The Annotated "Ulysses"/Page 109
to save time. All souls’ day. Twentyseventh I’ll be at his grave. Ten shillings
for the gardener. He keeps it free of weeds. Old man himself. Bent down
double with his shears clipping. Near death’s door. Who passed away. Who
departed this life. As if they did it of their own accord. Got the shove, all of
them. Who kicked the bucket. More interesting if they told you what they were.
So and so, wheelwright. I travelled for cork lino. I paid five shillings in the
pound. Or a woman’s with her saucepan. I cooked good Irish stew. Eulogy in
a country churchyard it ought to be that poem of whose is it Wordsworth or
Thomas Campbell. Entered into rest the protestants put it. Old Dr Murren’s.
The great physician called him home. Well it’s God’s acre for them. Nice
country residence. Newly plastered and painted. Ideal spot to have a quiet smoke
and read the Church Times. Marriage ads they never try to beautify. Rusty
wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil. Better value that for the
money. Still, the flowers are more poetical. The other gets rather tiresome,
never withering. Expresses nothing. Immortelles.
A bird sat tamely perched on a poplar branch. Like stuffed. Like the
wedding present alderman Hooper gave us. Hu! Not a budge out of him.
Knows there are no catapults to let fly at him. Dead animal even sadder. Silly-
Milly burying the little dead bird in the kitchen matchbox, a daisychain and
bits of broken chainies on the grave.
The Sacred Heart that is : showing it. Heart on his sleeve. Ought to be
sideways and red it should be painted like a real heart. Ireland was dedic-
ated to it or whatever that. Seems anything but pleased. Why this infliction?
Would birds come then and peck like the boy with the basket of fruit but he
said no because they ought to have been afraid of the boy. Apollo that was.
How many! All these here once walked round Dublin. Faithful departed.
As you are now so once were we.
Besides how could you remember everybody? Eyes, walk, voice. Well, the
voice, yes : gramophone. Have a gramophone in every grave or keep it in the
house. After dinner on a Sunday. Put on poor old greatgrandfather Kraahraark!
Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeragain hellohello amarawf
kopthsth. Remind you of the voice like the photograph reminds you of the face.
Otherwise you couldn’t remember the face after fifteen years, say. For instance
who? For instance some fellow that died when I was in Wisdom Hely’s.
Rtststr! A rattle of pebbles. Wait. Stop.
He looked down intently into a stone crypt. Some animal. Wait. There
he goes.