#I said my weird wee prayer for him most of all

[saints-who-never-existed]

Franklin Memorial, Greenwich

A return visit is definitely in order, not least because many of my pictures didn’t turn out half as clear as I thought they had. 

The memorial is tucked in at the side of the entrance to the Chapel of St Peter & St Paul in Greenwich, so much so that it caught me by surprise when I spotted it and I found myself hugely affect by seeing it in person.  Despite being the most resolutely un-religious person possible, I even found myself saying a wee prayer of sorts for the Expedition crew-members as I proceeded further into the beautiful chapel. 

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #The Franklin Expedition #National Maritime Museum #History #Historic Context #Historic Site #I literally had a wee tear in my eye #I was so surprised at myself #And to think of being so close to the literal bones of poor old Goodsir #I said my weird wee prayer for him most of all

[onyourzeus]

• beat of my heart | ydw

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: beat of my heart  pairing: yoon dowoon (of day6) & you genre: fluff, non-idol!au, college!au words: 4.3k

author’s note: finally, a dowoon fic that i thoroughly enjoyed writing (hence how long it is) it went on a different track than planned, but isn’t that how most of my fics are turning out to be? lol. please do enjoy!

this dot fic is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: wonpil (currently only have 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

there isn’t a lot that occupies dowoon’s mind. he gets classified as an introvert by people who have known him for years but this doesn’t mean too much for him

sure, he likes to keep to himself and only open up to people he’s trusted for a while which… is the kind of life he wants to lead

with that being said, other things that goes under Dowoon’s Approved Interests would be: playing the drums, playing a ton of games, and… animals 

upon entering college, he wondered if he’d have the free time to care for animals just like when he was younger, volunteering at the nearest animal shelter in which everyone who worked there knew who he was

and always regarded him as the shy little boy but also borderline an animal whisperer. it gave dowoon lots of fun memories to look back on his childhood, and for a moment he considered studying veterinary science to continue his passion for loving dogs cats and everything in between

but another love of his life was introduced in first year high school, and that is the drums. as his social circle expanded (as much as he permitted it to, so not by a lot), so did his club activities in music and even playing as a filler in different bands became his priority (next to academics) 

he still visited the shelter from time to time, it wasn’t something he could just drop so easily; bonding with stray-turned-angelic pets waiting for their forever family was his form of therapy, in a way, when music got too complicated at times or when he’s struggling with a class

and then there’s playing league or overwatch or pubg to release stress in a more high-energy fashion

so when the time came that he needed to choose a major, the first thing that came into mind was music theory. he wanted to get better at playing drums, understanding notes, and improving his performance skills overall

he’s experienced frustration over figuring out the rhythm for certain songs he liked to play before, so this is what made him decide that music is the type of interest he’d want to pursue as a career

and bonding with animals… well, would be just that. this way, he doesn’t get burnt out with the one hobby he feels much peace with. his happy place, if you will 

so imagine dowoon’s surprise when he learnt of a volunteering organization on campus that caters to helping out local animal shelters on the weekends. literally what he has been doing since he was a wee lad

it was perfect timing to have passed by the club booth during intro week, he already planned on auditioning for the established bands on campus (day6 sounds like a perfect fit for him, tbh) but he hadn’t reached that level of confidence with his drumming skills yet

distracting himself with going to the shelter every so often would help him leave the dorm for a bit (his roommate ha subtly asked many a times for him to ease off of the mouse clicking during the late hours of the night and shouting, “gg” over and over) 

the first few times he went to the org’s events at the shelter, it was… a little awkward

one, he didn’t know anybody and two, he isn’t exactly the cute little shy 10 year old he once was that knew every auntie and uncle in his small town. 

and everyone else in the event… already seems to know each other. dowoon recognizes the guy who handed him a flyer talking to the animal shelter coordinators up in the front. he had been lost in the crowd of his peers that he has no idea what’s going on

he just wants to pet sum dogs and play laser pointers with cats, is that too much to ask for?

suddenly, everyone had dispersed into groups and apparently you choose where you want to be included in

great, dowoon is just smiling awkwardly to himself as he feels the tips of his ears blush bright red

“hi! dowoon, right? do you have a group to join?” he whips his head to the sound of your voice, just a few feet ahead of him. he’s confused as to why you knows his name, so he points to himself and feels the flimsy paper nametag attached by double-sided tape on his shirt

oh, duh. they had the new prospective members do it a while ago 

he sees your name too, and remembers it in the back of his head like a prayer

dowoon shakes his head, perpetually shy and blushing hard now. you feel a sense of guilt singling him out like that in the crowd, so you approach him more closely and signal to follow you

“i’m part of the board members, and we don’t have enough people in our group so you can come join us!” as publicity chair, it is your duty to make others feel comfortable and welcomed in the org. and this is your time to shine

“we’re looking at some bigger doggos today, do you have any pets, dowoon?” you try to make polite introductions as you lead the group to where you’re assigned. like a lost puppy on his own, dowoon follows suit. he’s grateful for some guidance, and actually seeing the animals calm him down for a moment

and it doesn’t feel like everyone’s staring at him anymore as he hears chit-chatting surrounding the place

so he focuses his attention on you instead, and he somewhat regrets it

he’s not those guys who don’t have girl friends, but most of the friendships he’s formed with them are due to the fact that he was introduced by a mutual friend

so dowoon is, how do you say it, entranced by the way you talk about your first big dog in the house 

and the two that followed after, and how you stopped playing with your friends from the neighborhood

because all you needed in life were your golden retrievers and newfoundland

dowoon finds himself sharing his own childhood experiences of spending time at a shelter, but never having a dog of his own

“family allergies,” he shrugs and you pout for him in frustration 

wow, he’s never seen someone so invested by the fact that he never got to own a pet for himself 

“well, dowoon,” you tell him as you’re approaching the section of big dogs, “i hope you enjoy your time here. this is one of the biggest shelters near campus, and fortunately a lot of dogs and cats get adopted every month!” 

your enthusiasm for #adoptdontshop makes dowoon feel excited again, he’s just itching to be back doing what calms him down in a therapeutic sense

you instruct the other members to join in a pair or a trio to assist the shelter coordinators with grooming some of the dogs and going for their scheduled walks

this makes dowoon suddenly panic inwardly again, why does everything have to be done in groups?

“want to come with me?” you ask him in the middle of his inner monologue. you’re met with a look of surprise similar to how he reacted when you called out his name just a few minutes prior

“me? you’re not partnering with anyone else?” you shake your head, “as you can tell, they’ve already made up their minds. you’re one of the only new people i saw come to our event today, so i’ll be glad to show you around!” and you genuinely are. it’s rare to see a newbie look so obviously excited to be here, let alone by themselves

usually the people you’ve come to know who join your events are just there for the instagram stories or a pseudo-date of some sorts. you’re happy they’re helping out the shelter with taking care of the pets even for a few hours in the day, but their intentions lie far and beyond with what you have in mind joining the org

however, having approached dowoon and giving him your usual spiel on your love for dogs— he was actually listening and nodding along to the right moments!!! it was so refreshing, especially with the way he’s just excitedly tapping his feet right now awaiting where you’ll lead him next 

“oh, let’s hang out with lady! she’s actually going to be adopted soon, but i want you to meet her,” you lead dowoon to one of the bigger stalls on the right where lady was. you call out to her, and immediately you see a tail of a fawn colored pitbull sway back and forth

she comes near you first, sniffing and licking at your petting hands. lady senses dowoon standing idly by your side, and you’re about to tell him how to approach the dog when dowoon does it for himself

he bends down to her level, lifts up a loosely closed fist and lets lady smell her first. “hi lady, nice to meet you. my name is dowoon,” he coos at her, finally lady lets him in her space as her tail wags even faster

“that’s amazing,” you point out, “we had a really hard time teaching her to trust new people” 

dowoon shrugs, grinning while he’s at it and you can tell how modest he’s trying to be. but the way he’s rubbing lady’s belly and chuckling at her snorts make you believe that dowoon knows what he’s doing. and he’s enjoying it to the fullest 

“thank you for trusting me, miss lady,” dowoon tells the dog who has completely fallen in love with him too. you just watch him, in awe of the scene before you until dowoon looks your way

he catches you having a weird, goofy smile and so you fake cough your way as an excuse and tuck a hair beneath your ear. “does she need to go for a walk?” he asks you, tone inquisitive and hands busy petting lady much to her delight

“we can, y-yeah,” you find yourself a little out of breath, so out of the ordinary for you. but you comply to his wish and ask the coordinator for lady’s leash and the record book. 

and that’s kinda how you and dowoon started hanging out a lot on the weekends. after that first event you met him, you’re quick to tell him about the incoming ones the org has for the following weeks (albeit some were supposed to be a secret, you couldn’t resist) and that you’ll be really happy if he came

for the pets, of course

dowoon had informed you that he’s trying to join a band on campus, so he might not be at every event you described. although he’ll do his best, for all the other dogs and cats he hasn’t met yet. you become curious about the guy, but not enough confidence to ask about this band or anything other than his love for animals

so for the next few weeks of the semester, whenever you get to lead an event you’re always looking for a shy boy in the crowd. and 80% of the time, dowoon comes through

there are instances when the other board members ask you to proceed with a diff group or a diff task, and before they can sweep dowoon away from your group…

“ah, actually he’s interested in becoming my intern, so i think it’s best to keep him under my wing!”

“we’re doing interns??? now?? i thought we canceled that—”

“he’s just interested, nothing too serious or finalized but yep— ah, dowoon, over here!” 

what a save, and gladly dowoon didn’t hear

he’s actually formed a few acquaintances within the returning members, and it makes you proud to see him come out of his shell a lil

even if you don’t know much about him yet, just his major and the band he’s trying out for (which is looking very good, in his terms) as long as dowoon voluntarily wants to attend the events, it’s a success to you

“who are we meeting today chief?” dowoon would tease you once the event has started, and it’s becoming a running theme in your guys’ greetings

hmm, you decide, major,” is what you’d call him (as you squeal and squirm involuntarily inside) “bathing ole’ mister winston or trying to teach tiny toffee how to sit and stay for more than two seconds?” 

dowoon visibly shudders, remembering the time the english mastiff mister winston slobbered him so much as a form of thanks for keeping him squeaky clean, and you basically laughed at his face for 15 seconds straight

“let’s teach toffee some tricks today,” he relents as you already knew the answer but wanted to see reactions of his flashbacks 

you’re not sure if any one of the board members have noticed your particular liking to dowoon. if they did no one said a word because the whole point of the organization is

to have fun with animals and prepare them well for their furr-ever home, which is what you and dowoon love doing together. there’s a kind of synergy that you feel being with dowoon and working with one dog

dowoon knows more techniques on how to calm down anxious dogs than you’ve ever learned being in the org

you have to admit sometimes you’re still skittish, jumping from loud sounds or yelping in response to mister winston pawing at you (and his paws are bigger than your face) 

or maybe it’s the fact that dowoon is there teasing you instead, intentionally hiding from you when you need a helping hand only to return with a handful of kittens in his embrace. “sorry, they were calling out to me and i couldn’t resist.” 

you’d roll your eyes and attempt to get upset, but the way his own shines and his shy giggle coming out of him when the kittens fight their way to nuzzle against his cheek— it’s harder than you thought

anyway, you tell yourself that you’re keeping dowoon by your side because the two of you learn a lot together, and the back and forth coordination you have with tougher to care for dogs makes the job easier, it’s really that. it really is

or maybe it’s more… because as the weeks go by and dowoon couldn’t come round the shelter on the weekends, he asks if you want to see him practice with the band he’s joined

unfortunately, a lot of the times clash with your events or other school related activities, so dowoon insists on sending you videos of him playing the drums

it was a wild ride of messages, to be honest, because at first the camera would just be showing the ceiling, and then it would be recording his shoes, then just the surface of a drum until the vibrations shake it off of wherever dowoon was putting his phone against

nevertheless, you’d listen to how he plays the instrument he truly loves, and it was another side of him that got you feeling enamored 

the day has come that there was no event at the shelter, and dowoon alongside other day6 members were having a busking session on campus grounds

“i’ll record you this time, dowoon, you don’t have to rely on faulty angles and physics anymore,” you tell him minutes before the gig started. you’ve seen dowoon give off a positive, excited aura in the shelter, but being with his bandmates and sitting in front of his drums— you’re observing a different side of him

and it’s addicting. to watch

“oh, guys by the way, she’s the one i was telling you all about,” you hear dowoon tell his members while you stand on the side. a question mark pops in your head, what does he mean by that???

soon after, everyone introduces themselves to you and shakes your hand. and you’re stunned, having known their names before (courtesy of dowoon) but not really associating a face with it 

“you didn’t tell me your friends are good looking,” you tease dowoon, “you’re hanging out with the right crowd,” you add, poking him on the side to watch his reaction

and you get what you wanted, ears blushing and hands shoving you away playfully 

around you, a crowd has started forming and you notice people from the org watching on the sidelines too

posters fill up the air with names of the members— and even dowoon

huh, why does that hurt a little inside (maybe you should have made a poster too? you glance at dowoon to see him gazing upon the cheers of the crowd and perhaps his name in sharpie, enclosed in hearts by his supporters)

that hurt a little more too

you shake away the weird feeling, and remind yourself that you’re here to record him for the first time, and to listen to him play live

when they finally begun their performance, you became more speechless than you thought. you’ve gone to indie music gatherings before and have watched a couple of up and coming bands do their thing

but day6 is something else— and most especially, you know the drummer

the ones those girls behind you are screaming your ear off for 

he’s a god with the drums, eyes closed in parts that require careful and soft beats but you see the fiery look in them once the song comes up to its peak 

it was thrilling, it was a sight to behold. dowoon in his other element, another side of dowoon you’d love to get to know more of

you resist from screaming his name so that your recording doesn’t sound ugly (you’re sending it to him after all), but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t beating as loud as the rhythm of his drums 

a few times during the performance, you catch him looking at your direction, but you’re not sure so you just raise a thumbs up with one hand while the other holding your phone feels strained as they go on

it’s ok, it’s all for dowoon

an hour later, their set ended with a bang and girls and guys alike flock to the members to get a poster signed or something else of theirs (dowoon had already given you a pre-signed poster. friendship benefits?) 

you didn’t want to leave without congratulating him for a very successful first gig, so you sit by the benches. a little farther away from the platform where they performed to give yourself fresh air, and understand why your heart continues to pound so hard and so fast

and the cheers for dowoon’s name playing back in your mind

it’s the after show adrenaline, you tell yourself, rewinding the footage you recorded to pass the time

your mistake since it was all just dowoon

there were times when you “accidentally” zoomed it in his face, and kept it there. for minutes on end

god why does he smile like that, stop you’re hurting my HEART

“someone’s a fan,” a low, litling voice creeps up behind you

and your first instinct is to punch the invader of your personal space

which you did (albeit not as strongly as you wanted) but when realizing who received said punch…

“dowoon holy shit WHY WOULD YOU GO BEHIND ME LIKE THAT” 

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR REACTION WOULD BE SO VIOLENT”

so uh, there you suddenly are

in the college’s nurse office

with the drummer of what seems to be a rising band on campus, dowoon

getting his bloody nose (literally) checked out, and asking him serious questions without you in the room

“did she really think i’d punch you like that???”

“i think it was really nice of her to look out for me, you know,” dowoon smirked, and the two of you had already come out of the office and you were ready to actually punch him for real this time

but you decline your desires because you still feel a bit guilty 

a part of you knew it was dowoon, the voice was a dead giveaway, but you’re “logical reasoning” says you didn’t want him, nor anyone, to see you admiring his face on video. playing it on loop 

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, cringing at the turn of events tonight “can you still make it to the band’s after dinner party? can you still eat with your nose like that?”

“you’re so weird,” dowoon replies, pinching the bridge of his nose as he elicits a short “ow” of pain, and you can’t help but feel so terrible

“ughhhhhh dowoon pls say i didn’t break your nose or else your fangirls will hate me”

“what” 

“you heard me don’t make me say it again”

“say what again :)” at this point he’s just messing with you, his nose doesn’t look crooked anyway and he definitely knows there were girls fawning over him!!

“c’mon, i’ll pay for the uber to take you to the restaurant,” you urge, it’s the least you can do for physically hurting the person who seems to be confusing you what draws the line between being a friend and… potentially liking them more than that 

dowoon doesn’t respond, just shakes his head no and walks alongside you

“what do you mean no???” you’re baffled, why would he decline such a good offer?? 

“no i’m not going to the dinner, it’s fine i get to see them every day,” he reasons out. he stretches his arms and evokes a yawn. “besides i’m pretty beat from the gig, so i’m just gonna crash back at the dorm”

you’re not convinced, what if he’s just pretending to be sleepy so he doesn’t bother you anymore? biting your lip, you contemplate on persuading him to go but buying his dinner (you’re not sure how that will work) until he stops in his tracks and

pinches your cheeks

to stop you from thinking as your eyes land on his

dowoon huffs, eyebrows creased with concern as he says, “you look like one of the dogs we fed last week who wanted more food in his bowl, but he doesn’t know he’s on a diet.” 

he.. really compared u… to a dog???? 

“what do you mean by that,” you counter, cheeks heating up from the sensation of his fingers pinching at them. not too painful, but enough to consciously feel the pressure of his touch on your face

not to mention his focus is all on you

“you’re upset because i won’t give in to your apology gift,” he explains further. “but really, i’m fine. you didn’t break any bones, and you aimed for my nose. if it were my hands that got hurt then it’ll be a different story”

you groan outwardly, not knowing how to best him out of his logic

“c’mon the bus is coming soon, let’s call it a night,” he says, releasing your cheeks from his grasp and instead, tugging at your hand to follow his lead this time

you don’t let it go

once you enter the bus, dowoon finds an empty two seater and slides right in by the window seat, patting the one next to him. you reluctantly take the spot, still reeling from the way he held your hand so effortlessly, still confused about how you feel about him, still wanting to make it up to him

“is there an event tomorrow?” dowoon asks, escaping you out of your reverie. you churn your brain to think as this is a good opportunity to divert your attention somewhere else

“i believe so. i’m not leading the event, but it’s basically adoption day at the shelter. did you want to come?”

“of course, if you are”

“oh,” that caught you off guard… he can always come to events even if you aren’t, he’s a member now and he’s good friends with the other board members…

“if you’re not, then are you busy doing something?” he yawns again, eyes becoming droopier by the minute as the bus takes it leave

“not really… we can go… together,” you attempt to string coherent sentences together, but the sight of dowoon dozing off at the electric hum while the bus moves entrances you

his pale soft skin contrasts the tiredness in his voice, trying to keep himself away by answering you

“mm. yeah, i’d like to go with you...anywhere… with you,” he starts mumbling, head dangerously close to colliding against the window

silently, you chuckle. and admire the hardworking effort you’ve seen dowoon achieve so far, it makes you momentarily forget about figuring out your feelings

cause it’s kinda obvious with the way you’re seeing him right now, usually you’d tease him, take a picture for blackmail or even feel slightly awkward sitting in the bus next to each other

but right now, you admire him. and wish you can talk to him more about the band, about his dreams, about going to events “as long as it’s with you”

you hear him continuously mumble string of phrases that are incomprehensible at this point, and instead of making fun of the guy (you’ve done enough damage to his nose), you gently tell him, “sleep, dowoon. i’ll wake you up when your stop is here.”

“mmkay,” he gives in, breathes out heavily and

leans against you

resting his head on your shoulder, even making himself more comfy by nuzzling his cheek by the junction of your neck

in a way it sets your heart aflame

but on the outside, you feel at ease. that he can easily take the hit with his nose just mere moments ago and willingly let his head, and his mind rest for a little right by your side

you don’t have to wonder about your feelings anymore

you’d want this to happen more in the future, and hopefully

you’re just wishing upon a star here, that dowoon feels the same

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #day6 x reader #yoon dowoon imagines #yoon dowoon scenarios #yoon dowoon au #dot series #by:jiae

[baggettsathome]

Again.

One of the first things you learn in journalism school is not to bury the lede, meaning you should start with the most important information. But skipping right to “Nate is back in the ICU” really doesn’t capture the helluva week and a half we’ve had. So, indulge me as I walk through the whole story of the last 10 days…

Nate is back in the ICU, but stable. And thankfully, both his parents are able to be here for support. 

Last week’s infectious disease appointment (April 10) didn’t bring the news we’d been hoping for. We were expecting to be able to stop Nate’s IV antibiotics, but when the ID doctor reviewed his MRI, she saw that the biloma (fluid collection) was still there. It was small – no bigger than when the drain was pulled – but because the infected fluid could potentially cause a widespread infection, he was told he’d need to stay on antibiotics for at least four more weeks. So his PICC line stayed in and the daily infusions continued. 

We’d really gotten our hopes up that Nate would be without a PICC for the first time since August 31, so it was a huge disappointment. We’d been expecting to reach a big and exciting milestone and instead didn’t make any progress, so it felt a lot like a step backward. It made for a couple of very down days as we struggled to come to terms with how this would affect Nate’s recovery course, how much this could extend his rehab, and what the next few weeks might look like.  

Thankfully, we spent that weekend back in Iowa with friends and family who helped lift our spirits. We celebrated the upcoming arrival of a friend’s baby and my grandma’s 97th birthday. We laughed, played cards, and shared meals. Nate and I both headed into this week feeling better about what lay ahead.  

Back in Iowa with friends 

On Wednesday (April 17), Nate went in for his weekly ultrasound. It looked great, the official report noting that blood flow in the liver appeared to be “normalizing.” And, for the first time in years, every one of his liver labs were completely normal (probably for the first time since we started dating). He felt pretty good overall. But we balanced that positive news with a less happy reality. After talking with his surgeon during that appointment, we realized we had to reset our expectations about the next few months. We’d had a two-week trip planned to Europe for the beginning of June, and Nate had thought he’d be well enough to return to residency when we got back. But we had to acknowledge he wasn’t quite ready for such a big trip or a return to such a strenuous job, so we postponed both to give Nate more time to focus on rehab and building his endurance.

But with such stable labs and a good ultrasound report, Nate felt like he had a pretty clean bill of health, all things considered. He was all set to head to Minneapolis this weekend for his best friend’s bachelor party and to be the best man in the wedding next week.  

Then, on Thursday night (April 18), he started getting chills. He had a low fever off and on that evening, so we (rather begrudgingly) came into the hospital. He was directly admitted to the transplant floor for a presumed infection. “Well,” we said, “so much for the bachelor party.”

Getting his labs drawn on the transplant floor, sad about having to be here instead of in MN with friends. 

The doctors did a workup for infection, and in the wee hours of Friday morning, they also did an imaging study of his hepatic artery, just to be safe.

Thank goodness they did. “Bad news,” the surgeon told us early Friday morning. “It’s your artery. It’s down again.”

At 8 am yesterday (April 19), Nate was quickly taken to the interventional radiology operating room. Again. Like in February, they worked to clear a clot blocking off blood supply to his liver. The procedure went well, and they think they were able to intervene before his liver lost blood supply completely. In fact, the surgeons think they found the clot literally as soon as they could have.

Like in February, Nate is now in the ICU with a line into the artery in his groin that’s infusing heparin (a blood thinner) and tPA (a clot busting drug).

This morning, Nate went back to interventional radiology again so they could make sure the clot had broken down. They also wanted to look for areas in the artery where blood flow is turbulent, which can cause clots.  

The report after today’s procedure was… good-ish. They successfully ballooned one of the spots they suspected of having disrupted blood flow, right off the aorta and now it “looks really good.”

However, there’s a dissection in Nate’s right hepatic artery, meaning that one of the three layers that make up the vessel has separated from the other layers. It’s a risk of having your artery messed with so much, and is a separate issue than what brought us here. Sometimes they’re able to stent over a dissected artery, but that’s not a good option for where this dissection is. The relief is that the dissection doesn’t seem to be affecting blood flow to his liver, so that’s good. Still, “it’s a problem he doesn’t need,” the IR doc told us. “And it means we need have to be even more cautious and leery.” 

So Nate came back to the ICU this afternoon still getting infused with the two medications. They’ll do another ultrasound sometime tonight to check in. Then he’ll go back to IR in the morning for one more round of clot busting meds and another check on the artery. Assuming that goes well, he’ll spend the rest of the day in ICU and then head up to the transplant floor.

A post-procedure snooze

The dissection is another risk factor for future clotting, and the fact that Nate already clotted even though he’s on multiple blood thinners is… weird. “You have proven time and again that you are not normal,” one surgeon told him. All of the doctors are working on theories as to why clotting has been such an issue for him, and we’re obviously anxious to find a reason and resolution.

…so that’s the story as it stands now. A few days ago, his surgeon said that if Nate wasn’t so stubborn, he’d almost certainly have died at some point over the last two years. Stubbornness, a great support system, an amazingly skilled care team, and some luck… they’ve all played a role. But we are so, so, SO ready to need less of those things and to be able to get on with the life we were planning pre-transplant #1. In the shorter term, we really want to make it to our friends’ wedding next week.  

We’ll see. In the meantime, Happy Passover, Happy Easter, and thank you for all your support. You’ll hear more from us in the next few days and we appreciate all your continued thoughts, prayers, positive vibes, healthy juju, etc.

[kristawrotethis]

When Mothers Pray

I don't spook easily, but there are times when I jump out of my skin at the slightest noise. One such time I was staying alone in the old farmhouse while my parents were off visiting a distant relative who was just out of the hospital and needing respit care.

I say I was alone, but there were three dogs, a cat, and a cockatiel named Jerry staying with me. I had the routine down to a science. Wake up, put the dogs out, feed the cat and the bird, let the dogs in, feed the dogs, fill and replace the water jugs for the animals, and then do some little bit of house work before relaxing for the rest of the morning. The afternoon was simpler. Walk the dogs, feed the dogs, cat, and bird, and feed myself. I rarely ate breakfast, and lunch was always a peanut butter sandwich. The house work was generally, clean up after myself, do the dishes, and wash my clothes. The dogs and cats were very well house trained, and scooping the kitty litter was nothing compared to crating the dogs before I left for Church or shopping.

Anyway, I was staying alone in the house while my parents were away. Late one night, as I was turning off the lights and settling down for the night, as I passed the kitchen doorway, I got very spooked. I mean, the hair stood up on my head, and instant goose bumps down my arms. I paused, and looked into the dark kitchen, but there was nothing there, and the blinds were all closed so no one was watching me from outside. So I shook the feeling off, and walked on down the hall to the downstairs guest bedroom. I should say that while my parents were away I slept down stairs to calm my mother's sense of safety. For some reason, she panicked if we slept upstairs while she was away, even if Dad was home.

Jerry's bird cage was outside the guest room, so I covered him up for the night, and herded the dogs into their beds in front of the closet. Placing the beds in the guest room was a necessity if one wanted to sleep without rolling over grumpy dachshunds. Since I wanted to sleep without fear, I placed the three beds in the walkway before the closet. Ducks insisted upon having a pillow and blanket, as she got cold at night, so I covered her up, and tucked her pillow under her downy chin, then turned the lights out.

I was probably in bed for about thirty minutes, and I was suddenly wide awake. My heart was beating feverishly, and the goose pimples were back. The hair on my body was slowly starting to petrify in the standing position. I was certain that there was something in the room with me that was not of the canine variety.

Somehow, I managed to turn the bedside light on, although I am not at all certain how it was that I did it. I surveyed the room. Nothing. I pulled myself out of my bed, grabbed the emergency light, turned off the bedside light, and opened the door into the hall way. No one, just myself and the dogs. Out in the hallway I could hear Jerry sleeping, but other than that, it was silent in the house.

Slowly, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen doorway, where I had felt that eeriness before. Nothing. Gaining bravery, I turned and made my way into the living room... Again, nothing was there. So I made my way through the living room to the front of the house, and down the three steps that married the Old part of the house to the New section.

There were three doors, one was for the basement, one was for the upstairs bedrooms, and the other was to the kitchen again, and then there was a short hallway to a dining room and the front parlor. My parent's bedroom was the formal parlor space, and Da had added a bathroom and walk in closet for Mom's convenience.

Since the basement door was locked, I moved to the up stairs door, opened it, and made my way up the stairs. No one was in any of the rooms, or the small attic room at the end of the hallway. So, I made my way back down the stairway, and down the hall to my parents' room. I cracked open the door. Nothing. I closed the door, and I felt the icy hand of fear trace its way down my spine.

I really didn't want to look behind me, but I did, turning the flashlight on as I turned. Nothing.

My hands were shaking almost violently. I felt like I could not catch my breath. Dread was upon me to the point that I thought I was about to die... But there was noting in the hall way with me, or in the front parlor.

Inching my way across the hall, I made my way into the front parlor, and sat down at the telephone bench. My mother was a collector of old furniture, so we had a telephone chair and several other old fashioned furnishings in the house, like the settee and the roll top desk in the parlor. I reached over, with the hand that was not holding the flash light, and picked up the old push dial phone.

How I dialed the sheriff department in one attempt, I have no idea.This was long before you could program phone numbers into a phone, and long before cell phones were available to our lower middle class zone. But I did get the dispatch officer on the first try, and I did manage to sit, and explain that there was something weird going on at my house, and that I did not feel safe.

I then began to do what my mother and father had taught me from my youth, pray. I prayed for what seemed like hours, but was really just a few minutes, for God to be with me and help me through this night. Fifteen minutes later, two sheriff's officers pulled into the long drive of the house, and made their way up to the door. I pulled it open long before they made their way up to the porch, and let them search the house, the shed, and the barn beside the house. Nothing was amiss, but they did say that there was an escaped prisoner from the next county over, and that I should keep the house locked up at all times. I understood, and asked that they please pass by the house a little more often on their routine sweeps, which they agreed to do.

As they left, I locked the doors, and went into Da's closet. He had a gun safe in there, and as he had taught all of us children how to use firearms safely, I knew what I was doing when I pulled out his pistol and loaded the chambers. If there was someone sneaking around my house, I was going to be prepared to defend myself. Needless to say, i did not sleep the rest of the night, but sat up in the living room, my back to the far wall, and the pistol in my lap. I didn't move until I heard a truck come down the back side of the property, and the dogs started howling in greeting.

My brother in law had come to do the outside chores for Da while they were away, and since he and my sister lived on the other side of the farm property, he took a shortcut to our house instead of driving the twenty minute route by road. I was never so glad to see him in all my life.

I opened the back door off the kitchen, and proceeded to tell him all about the weirdness of the night. He got an odd look on his face, but didn't say anything. Instead, he took off his boots, and motioned me to be quiet. He took the pistol from me, and made his way down the basement stairs. In the back of the basement, there was an old coal shoot. For the most part, it was closed off, but sometimes critters would get in. As soon as I saw him lift the pistol, I knew what was going on. Someone was in my basement after all. I ran upstairs and called the sheriff department back, telling them that my brother in law had found someone in my basement, and that we needed them to come pick them up.

No surprises, it was the escaped prisoner from the next county. Apparently when I felt those odd sensations, it was because I felt his presence in the house. What got me curious, is that the dogs did not alert me to trouble, and slept through most of the weirdness. Why was I the only one who felt the presence of this person, when no one else in the house did?

When I called my mom, she told me that she was very worried about me being out in the house all by myself. She was about to get in the truck and come home to check on me, when I called her. Apparently she had spent most of the night on her knees in prayer for me, although she did not know exactly what was wrong. She just said that God woke her up out of a sound sleep with the deep urge to pray for my safety.

I don't know about anyone else's mother, but my mom believes in the power of intercessory prayer. She believes in prayer. When she wakes up in the morning, she can be found praying. Before she sleeps at night, she can be found praying. At home, she often wanders through the house, praying for people and situations. Da calls it her prayer walk. When we were younger, my mother would wake us up to pray with her. She would instruct us that there was something very serious going on, or that she had heard from someone on the prayer line that needed urgent prayers, so we would accompany her and pray with her for whatever it was that needed attention. My grandmother was like that, too.

If either of those ladies called you up and asked you what was going on in your life, you knew that they had been up and praying for you in the wee hours of the night or morning, and that there was no reason to lie about what you had been up to... good or bad. When Momma went to praying, something supernatural happened, and God opened doorways, healed the sick, and protected those who were in situations that were very dangerous. So when I heard that she had been praying all night for me and my safety, I knew then that the reason I felt this person's presence in the house was because of my mother's answering the Holy Spirit's call for her to pray for me. It was a God thing, y"all. Inexplicable, yet wonderful and frightening at the same time.

I have since learned to listen to these weird sensations. I have learned that when you are in danger, the first thing you should do, is trust that feeling of danger or wrongness, and get out of the area. I have also learned that in those times it is imperative to call upon the name of the Lord in prayer. I have learned that there are instances when fleeing is not something one can do, but calling upon the name of Jesus is always possible, even when you cannot speak His name aloud. I have also learned that He will answer you in those dark times, even when you think that no one else is with you.

I am sure that I do not need to tell anyone that when my parents returned home later on that week, how happy I was to see them. We hugged like we had not seen each other for years, and then Da placed his hands on my shoulders and thanked God for keeping us all safe and sound.

I know that there were others who came forward and shared the news that they were praying for me that night. That, like my mother, God had placed me upon their hearts, and so they woke from their sleep to pray for me. One dear lady, even shared that she was so worried that she put a bee in the ear of her son to drive by the house more frequently that week, and he did, not knowing that he was probably one of the reasons why the person in my basement did not come up the stairs and do something evil while I was sleeping. I will never know exactly what kept the person in the basement, but I do know that God does protect His children, especially when mothers pray for their sons and daughters like my mother does.

#Short Story #Fiction #Based on true events #names changed #christian #Krista Wrote This

[chrysaliseuro2018]

In-Side

When my brother Dougal married Genevieve in 1982 who would have thought it would indirectly lead us to the Turkish beach city of Side (pronounced Sidday) on the Mediterranean 36 years later.

The link? Genevieve’s sister Barbara and her friend Penny when travelling in Turkey during the late ‘70’s met and went on to marry Turkish men. While Barbara and her husband Hasan spend time in both Tasmania and Side, Penny and Ali live permanently in Turkey.

As luck would have it Dougal and Gene’s house renovations, yes they are crazy enough to embark on two, are currently affected by the usual permit delays. So being opportunistic travellers they decided to squeeze in a month’s worth of travel while the local council bureaucrats twiddle their thumbs. As luck would have it their dates in Turkey coincided with ours so a rendezvous in Side was planned.

Doug and Gene stayed in Side a few years ago but for Chris and me it was a wonderful opportunity to share the experience. Side, while not exactly your quiet beach getaway, is a tale of two cities.

Firstly there is the new section cluttered with over development of the worst kind. Not unlike our charmless Surfers Paradise, it’s dominated by huge monolithic hotels. In a laughable attempt at authenticity some have been topped with faux Mosque-like domes. They are the palaces of package tours. Apparently Russians in particular subscribe to all-in resort packages which apparently suffered during recent years of unrest and the odd terrorist incident in Turkey. Now the tourists are returning and in our mind’s eye we could only imagine the morning bun fight for pool lounges.

Secondly there is the quaintly named ‘Antique Side’ which is where Penny and Ali run their little beach front hotel The Beach House. In contrast to the vast new developmental expansion of modern Side, Antique Side is perhaps realising what an unrealised gem it has right under its nose. It occupies an entire small peninsula which was clearly Roman given all the artefacts, pillars, foundations and mosaics to be found there. In recent years developments which were built on the ruins have either been compulsory removed and replaced with glass flooring over the ruins, or glass flooring has been installed in shop floors to expose the ruins. Further excavation is still underway and with some cooperation and planning the entire peninsula could be a major Roman site for visitors.

Apart from the hotel Penny and Ali also have traditional stone house and an apartment on the other side of the peninsular to the hotel. This is only a 5 minute walk through streets dense with shops selling t-shirts, soccer shirts of every variety, jewellery, bags, Turkish delight, nuts and all kinds of souvenir dross. First two nights were spent at the hotel followed by another 2 at the apartment. Originally we all planned to stay at the house but with a disco not 100 metres away pumping out door doof until the wee hours we all, even our resident disco king Chris, thought better of it.

The hotel offers a certain quaintness with a location right on the little beach. It has particular appeal to Poms of a certain age demographic - Chris had no trouble striking up conversation. Many have been returning for a number of years enjoying a relaxed and familiar environment. Penny and Ali were congenial and generous hosts who let Chris and me ride on the familial coattails of Doug and Gene offering us free accommodation. We were very fortunate indeed.

So how did we spend our 4 days at Side......

# The weather was hot so many an hour was spent on the hotel sun lounges or bobbing in the warm Mediterranean. We took to the beach umbrellas unlike the Poms who thought nothing of laying out all day in the blazing sun (judging by the brown leathery skin this has been their habit through the decades).

Generally in the morning the sea was flat but as the day went on the choppier it got. Making the most of the calm sea were several party boats in the guise of faux pirate ships complete with artificial rigging, a sliver of cloth purporting to be sails, a statue of a captain with eye glass at the bow and a plank to walk off at the stern. Amusingly on closer inspection one was a catamaran - a very modern take on a pirate ship indeed. Dougal thought they looked so unsturdy that it would only take one decent wave to capsize the whole contraption sending 100% pirates overboard. I confess to spending 4 days secretly wishing for that rogue wave.

# Gene, Barbara and I went to Manavgat the neighbouring town to do some shopping at the warehouses with Hasan as our driver. Unfortunately it was a Sunday meaning many were closed. Still we found a few open and got a few odds and ends. Highlight was a visit to a shop selling spices, grains, dried fruit, nuts, pastries and Turkish Delight of all colours and flavours. Generously they encouraged us to sample whatever we wanted and even some things we didn’t even know we wanted. If only weight and customs restrictions didn’t limit overseas purchases. But when a whole box of Turkish Delight (well over a kilo) costs 8.30 Turkish Lira, about A$2.50 which is less than the cost of one piece in Melbourne, it became a must-have even if i can’t get through it all.

Finally we paid a brief visit to Hasan’s 80+ year old mother. Mum sat quietly in the corner chatting to her sister and niece until Barb put her son Michael on FaceTime to speak to his grandmother. The transformation from quiet little old lady to excited and animated little old lady had to be seen to be believed.

# Penny’s husband Ali has a farm at Akseki just over one hour’s drive north east of Side. Fortunately Ali frequents the farm regularly so we all joined him for a day. Took 2 cars as Ali was staying overnight (we considered it but decided to make it a one day trip) so we had Dougal at the wheel. Turkish drivers have scant regard for road rules....step out on to a pedestrian crossings if you dare, stopping at red lights is optional and double white lines on the road are treated as decorations. Needless to say the drive was a little hairy at times.

First stop, the local market at Akseki. If one were looking to buy fresh market veggies, fruit, grains, nuts and pulses of all varieties, undies, clothes circa 1970, pots and pans, oversized wooden spoons, little sewing kits or even nail clippers this was the place to visit. A few nuts were purchase along with some strawberries which while tasty were a little over the hill and disappointing.

Next stop lunch. Nothing like a local to take you to a restaurant. Feasted on meat pides and like their Italian cousin the pizza, the serves looked enormous. But what you think at the outset you’ll never finish, somehow seems to go down a treat. Add to this a simple but delicious salad and a view over the valley....perfection.

Then onto Ali’s house in the town to admire his menagerie. A summary: 2 English setters, a cat, dozens of laying chooks, a couple of roosters, pheasants, bantams, hatching eggs, chicks, budgies, two quails and a partridge in a pear tree! Then the mini orchard of apricots, cherries and sour cherries. Not done with yet we then drove to their farm. Largely it has been planted out with walnut trees as a crop. Along with those was Ali’s veggie garden of onions, melons, beans, garlic and more fruit trees. It has to be said he is a man in touch and in love with nature.

Headed back towards Side but stopped at Sarihacilar a sleepy one horse town. The old if-you-blink-you-miss-it sort of place. It’s unlikely many tourists make their way to this town but Doug and Gene had recommended the museum. Totally overpriced in the scheme of things but actually worth every penny in a weird and wonderful way. Exhibits were largely routine; lots of butter churns, cooking pots, rusty old tins and a random collection of firearms, musical instruments, clocks and of all things, radios ranging through the decades. The two highlights were (1) the ‘curator/guide’, himself a rusty old relic, who escorted us around trying embellish the tour by bringing his artefacts to life with his several words of English. (2) the wooden baby’s cot complete with inbuilt potty. This worked by strapping on one of two funnels to baby, ingeniously designed to accommodate genitalia differences of males and females, so the pee was funnelled into the potty. Only design fault was baby had to always be asleep on its back. Otherwise genius and a big saving on sleep time Huggies.

Museum done, complementary chi enjoyed we were then given a tour by the proud owner of the renovated hotel. There are some walking trails around here one of which Doug and Gene had previously walked. (Mid 30 degree temperatures discouraged us.) In the heat and dryness the Nordic feel of the pine lined lodge-like hotel seemed totally incongruous. But apparently it gets bitterly cold in winter which would make this an ideal bolthole to bunker down in with a pack of cards and a few bottles of wine.

Having seen the ‘major’ sites and heading back to the car, the Mosque caught our eye. Well more accurately we caught the imam’s eye. With the help of his young son’s schoolboy English, of which the imam was glowingly proud, we did a little tour of the Mosque. It was unremarkable yet lovely. As always a beautiful chandelier, modest decorations but some lovely framed versus of the Q’uran. Chris formed the strongest connection with the imam who gifted him a copy of the Q’uran Abridged. (Conversation rate 0 to date). Just as we were leaving the call to prayer started so Chris and I whipped off out shoes, I re fitted the supplied headgear and we ducked back inside....was it the imam calling live or a recording? Happy to report it was the former.

All in all a wonderful day out.

# Hasan generously invited us all to the Turkish night at his cousin’s multi storeyed hotel (everyone seems to be everyone else’s cousin in Side). It was a glorious night on the open air rooftop and Hasan secured a table in the corner to take advantage of the view. Dinner was a buffet and advice was to get into it before the locals arrived at 8.10 starving after a day of Ramadan fasting. So we all ate well and lots, a particular highlight of the savoury spread was the smoked trout, while those with a sweet tooth, rated the Baklava highly.

After dark the belly dancer appeared shimmying and shaking her way though a routine to more contemporary music than we were used to hearing nightly when we lived at York Place. When it became time for audience participation I was grateful to be so blocked in as to be unavailable. Chris was the most likely candidate but Miss Nubile had enough willing participants before getting to our table. We all enjoyed watching the various efforts of tight shoulder and tight hipped conscripts however I suspect Chris was just an incy wincy bit disappointed he wasn’t up there strutting his stuff.

So after 4 days of hanging with the locals it was time to move on making sure not to overstay our welcome. We had been thoroughly spoilt and indulged. As we left for for our next adventure we couldn’t help but think sometimes you just get lucky!

[afrojonathan]

Day 27: Tangier, Morocco and Tarifa, Spain

With my last call to prayer pre-dawn wakeup under my belt (this will not be missed), I did a little yoga on the roof terrace of my hotel overlooking the port, and then headed to the Tangier American Legation for a history lesson.

Did you know that Morocco was the first country to recognize American independence in 1777? The legation building was given to the US in 1821 by the Sultan of Morocco so we could have a diplomatic presence there. It was the first American overseas building (and US’ oldest diplomatic building), and the only American historical landmark outside of the US. It was a gorgeous building with artifacts about the time and info about the great historical relations between the two countries. I’m not normally one for history museums, but this was fascinating. Plus, there was pretty great art and some gorgeous courtyard in this deceivingly large space, so that was nice.

There’s even an original letter of the consulate general writing to the US Secretary of State about 2 lions that were gifted to him from the Sultan of Morocco. The letter is unintentionally hilarious as he kept trying to refuse the animals, but it was insisted he keep them. He ended up having to keep them in a room in the consulate, and it was a whole calamity. Just a very funny bit of diplomacy (remember when our government tried to refuse foreign gifts?) An excerpt from it (and full text at end of this post):

“As my determination was well known, the commander of the troop has prepared himself with the most ‘conclusive answer’ to all my objections. I told him that it was perfectly impossible to receive the animals, the laws of my country forbid it. He replied that they were not for me, that they were for my government. I told him that the President, the head of my government, was in the same predicament as myself, that he had not the power to receive them. He said that the Sultan knew that but that they were not for the President but for my Congress. I resolved that Congress had resolved never to receive any more presents, and that the law prohibiting public officers to receive presents, was part of the Constitution and superior to the power of Congress itself. He wanted to know who made the Constitution, I replied the people, then said he if Congress will not receive them the Emperor desires them to be presented to the people as a present, as a mark of his respect and esteem for the ‘Sultans of America.’ At last I told him that I would not receive them that my mind was fully made up; then he said my determination is a strong as yours, I am ordered to deliver them to you, it will cost me my head if I disobey, I shall leave them in the street.”

After my thoroughly enjoyable time there, I got a delicious street meal, got my tickets for the ferry, and got moving to the port. There were so many checkpoints and unnecessary steps in the boarding process (I think just to create jobs?), that I was sprinting to make the boat. I have the sense they think with boarding process “that’s how it’s always been, so that’s how it’s gonna be”. Very stressed and sweaty, I made it. 

The ferry is pretty cool in concept - it crosses two continents! And quickly! A half-hour later, I was in Tarifa, Spain. I walked to my hotel, checked in, and promptly headed to the beach. All I was craving after all the relentlessly hot and sweaty days in Morocco was a swim. So, I made it happen! It was right near the port where I got dropped off, which felt a bit weird, but it’s amazing to be in Europe and see Africa across the way.

After ambling around a bit, I headed to a beach bar for a cocktail (I missed this!) and some awesome beats. I was astounded by how high the sun was at 8:30pm (which made it very easy to lose track of time as well). I thought it was maybe 7, and realized it was almost 9. The calm beach life and chilled out beats were making time melt away. After a couple of rummers, I needed to eat!

I popped back to my hotel with a wee buzz, changed, and got out the door into the winding white streets of the very quaint old town. I chatted with Garrett to plan our brothers weekend in Italy (over an Aperol Spritz, how fitting), and then found my way to a dinner for one (always a slightly strange experience). The food and wine were great, and once done, I roamed around looking for a quiet bar for one more drink. Well, the old town bars were poppin’ off for a Monday night, and being in crowded, loud bars by myself was not the vibe I was looking for. So, I decided to call it a night.

—

Sir,

I am sorry to inform the Department that, although I have exerted myself to the utmost to prevent the presentation of any animals from the Emperor, and to convince his Ministers of the impossibility of accepting a gift or present of any kind, my exertions have not been attended with success. A brief statement of the facts of the case will show whether I have acted up to the spirit of the verbal instructions which I had the honor to receive before I left the U.S., and in deference to the feeling manifested on a former occasion by the U.S. Government and which I have every reason to suppose will be the same in the present case.

It will be recollected that my instructions to Mr. John Mullowny were to state to the Bashaw the utter impossibility of accepting any present, and in case one was offered to give it an unqualified refusal. This order I have no doubt that he fully executed, and I was in hopes that I should hear nothing more of their subject. In a few days, however, it was rumored that a party were on their eway from Fez with some animals for the American Consulate. I immediately communicated to the Governor and Public Administrator my determination to refuse whatever might be sent and begged their influence in presenting such an offer. They replied that it was perfectly out of their power to prevent it, that the present must be made, that they could not understand by what right or power that I could undertake to interfere in such a case between the Emperor and my government; that a Moorish agent who should thus refuse to convey a present to his master would justly have his head cut off; and that the refusal of whatever might be offered would be a decided insult.

Finding I could not get any assistance from any of the Emperor’s Officers, I resolved to write to the Emperor himself, but before a letter could be prepared, the sound of drums announced the arrival of the Bashaw’s Nephew at the head of a troop of soldiers with an enormous, magnificent Lion & Lioness.

As my determination was well known, the commander of the troop has prepared himself with the most “conclusive answer” to all my objections. I told him that it was perfectly impossible to receive the animals, the laws of my country forbid it. He replied that they were not for me, that they were for my government. I told him that the President, the head of my government, was in the same predicament as myself, that he had not the power to receive them. He said that the Sultan knew that but that they were not for the President but for my Congress. I resolved that Congress had resolved never to receive any more presents, and that the law prohibiting public officers to receive presents, was part of the Constitution and superior to the power of Congress itself. He wanted to know who made the Constitution, I replied the people, then said he if Congress will not receive them the Emperor desires them to be presented to the people as a present, as a mark of his respect and esteem for the “Sultans of America.” At last I told him that I would not receive them that my mind was fully made up; then he said my determination is a strong as yours, I am ordered to deliver them to you, it will cost me my head if I disobey, I shall leave them in the street. The street upon which is the American Consulate is a narrow short cul de sac with half a dozen Jew houses in it beside my own. Preparations were made for placing a guard at the open end, and turning the Lions loose in the street. Seeing further insistence hopeless, that to persist in the refusal would destroy the good feeling in which this Consulate is at present regarded, I was compelled to surrender to this novel form of attack, and to open one of my rooms for the reception of the Animals where they now are. I have not dared to take the responsibility to send them to the U.S. or otherwise dispose of them. Upon this head I shall most anxiously wait instructions as they are to me a great cost and inconvenience. They are by far the finest animals of the kind I have ever seen, and I have no doubt will sell for more than enough to pay their expenses and the cost of transporting them to America. It will be impossible to dispose of them in this neighborhood. At Gibraltar they would bring nothing, and the sale of them so near here would cause much excitement.

The rumor in town is that four or five horses are on their way for the “People of the United States”, whether it is true or not I do not know. I hope that I shall have the honor and pleasure of hearing upon this subject from the Department as soon as possible.

I am with sentiments of respect your old Servant,

Thomas Carr

[ulyssesredux]

Nausicaa

Because it was by moonlight that we followed the bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky the spires of its little house to tell the time the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we drove home. Little monkeys common as ditchwater. Women never meet one like that from? It was getting darker but he thought it must be a warning to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him to run off and play with Jacky and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and, wretch that he who looks up to the Miss White. Moorish.

Madcap Ciss with her hat anyhow on her face was suffused with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. Damned glad I didn't do the other. She would care for him and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then, smiling at the butt of my foot. Good idea if you're a man of Borneo has just come to men once and then green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. A.E. Rumpled stockings. Done. But Edy wanted to go where you know it: good evening, and whether the sea. Every bullet has its billet. Yes, I mean? Reserve better. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Looks so forlorn. I think. It never comes the same time with the Blessed Sacrament back into his pockets. Richie Goulding: he's another. The propitious moment. Drunkards out to shake up their livers. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer, and saw that magic lure in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing. Mansmell, I think.

Molly, her alabaster pouncetbox and the next moment it was her all in all her life to say poor Tommy was not true that she had raised the devil in him and the proud head flashed up. Something inside them goes pop. But her breasts were developed. Made up for hours. The old love was the master guide. One grain pour off odour for years at the same moon, and among the trees beside the waves, after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before the world drop down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the pleasure cruise in the dark, whiff of stale boose. She jumped up and settled it all the same.

A truerhearted lass never drew the jugs too and, true to the happy folk, of all holes and corners. Cigary gloves long John had on his mind. Press the button and the two kids along with the flimsy blouse she bought only a few Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. But if Master Tommy drew the attention of the West. Bad policy however to fault the husband. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old men and the way to find out who played the trick. Thankful for small mercies. Suppose she does?

Come. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp because she was just going to go deedaw and baby, no hour to be women priests that are no longer men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. O, and her face because she thought perhaps he might come to town. Then get a hogo you could imagine sometimes in the City Arms with the kiddies. Place made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past kissing time, time to spray plants too in the priest's house.

Suits her, make him awkward like those newsboys me today.

Not going to set fire to the flowers for the rest of his heart, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. Curtain up. She wore a pair of gaiters the night that first we met. Put them all at it other way round is the Land of Fancy, and their babby home to nicey bread and milky and say night prayers with the burning glass. Ask yourself who is your sweetheart? Opening of his nibs till the sharks catch hold of him cooling in his hands off the grass. Yes, she?

O, don't they know! So it returns. Sister? Little recked he perhaps for what they had! Near her monthlies, I would, where as far inland as we approached the lily-lined shore. At first. Madcap Ciss with her hat anyhow on her forehead but Gerty though she didn't like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that irritation against her stays that that foreign gentleman that was far away the hurtness and shook her hand at Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy was not a pin cared Ciss.

Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears. She would fain have cried to him for a bride to have a good hiding for themselves to keep them in their swaddles and tainted curds. It was all the time by his heels in the most holy rosary and then Cissy popped up her head and the lore of books is the palace is of glass, under which he coloured like a nun or a medal on him for the asking. Say papa, baby. Saw a pool near her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away.

Time enough, understand all the world of good much better than the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Coastguards too. Mr Bloom watched her as she is. Body fifty different colours. No, Gerty, Cissy Caffrey said. Green apples. Of his distinguishedlooking figure. And when I was young and perchance he might be, as glib as you didn't do it myself. Hm. Yes, it is for you, dear, and with it. Must be connected with that because he had erred and sinned and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for that one shortcoming she knew would come, shutting out the wadding and waved in reply of course. Are you not happy in your? Married too. Now won't you? All kinds of crazy longings. Could hear them all off.

Her griddlecakes done to a woman loses a charm few could resist. Names change: that's all. —What? That was their secret, only theirs, alone in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Like to be silent. Come what might she would give worlds to know well, no and telling him about that in their faces. She thought she understood. First thoughts are best. But Dignam's put the letter em on her nerves, no hour to be grownups. Names change: that's all. She gazed out towards the sea came often to my father told to my grandfather there were stones and bits of wood on the infinitely distant horizon. And as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the dribbling bib and wanted him to sit on that stone. Not they!

Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Suppose he gave her money. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads. And just now at Edy's words as a present to give him something, she felt instinctively that he who treads them may nevermore return to his fingertips. Evening. Ba. We have rejected the beautiful Land of Sona-Nyl. Life, love, and she would have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the gentleman in black who was conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, mystical rose. Did me good all the world in its transient loveliness, had misted her eyes that were and she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey shouted to look over some nights when Molly was in that face, meeting his glance, and cities of gold. But Edy wanted to know because they were to have had a good opportunity to show what a great person she was near him she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as possible. Want to be seen on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and they have their period.

From the East. If you fail try again, at once he had eyes in his chin. Never again. Not so bad. Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect proportions beneath her skirt and just the proper amount and no more; and now there are you at all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them.

Dark devilish appearance. Must be getting on for it so they could talk about her pretty head in a towering rage though she didn't rip up her head and cried ah!

Big brutes of oceangoing steamers floundering along in the sea?

The strength it gives a man, she might like, twigged at once. Bad for you, dear. Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their ball with her, with a canarybird that came out of pinnies. Nay, she could just go and Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she felt that she too could write poetry if she could whistle. Page of an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Strength of character had never regretted it. Puddeny pie! Took off her slim graceful figure to perfection. What a great person she was ever ladylike in her stocking! Cissy gone and then are forgotten. Longest way round. —Nao, tearful Tommy said. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she thought perhaps he might learn to love her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell.

Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their babby home to the works and she had a cultured ring in it and listened to it at the church the fragrant incense was wafted and with the instinctive taste of a jar by throwing in pebbles. If they could run like rossies she could have a cosy chat beside the Dodder that went with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the floor of the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far as possible.

It's like a phantom ship. Bat probably. Didn't let her see me in profile. Blue, green, four and eleven, on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet.

Funny my watch. Byby till next time. Yet they do. Daresay she felt. Her shoes were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his taste as Morris said when he and he said was true, for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. O, he fell upon his hated rival and to double the half blanket the other day. Children's hands always round them. Wait. Mr Bloom watched her as if it understood. Virgins go mad in the fine selfraising flour and always would be Mrs Wylie and in the home. If you don't know how to cry nicely before the mirror. First kiss does the trick. Complimented perhaps. Always off to a pleasant coast gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the basalt pillars of the moon was full and high in the dark, whiff of stale boose. —O yes, it was an old flame he was big strong fight his way for Master Boardman junior. Past that beacon for a father because he was undeniably handsome with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the graveside in the end of her scalp and that was far away on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I was? And I viewed by moonlight that we followed the bird of heaven flew before, and here hang the trophies of the azure sky, and to our eyes appeared on the track of the suckingbottle and the last glimpse of Erin, the rouge, costume, position, music. Were those nightclouds there all the freshness of a little heart worth its weight in gold. I mean. Should a girl with glasses. Suppose there's some connection. Dressed up to her throat, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say reach even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had even witnessed in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an arch glance from her, make him forget the memory of the pushcar while that young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Afraid to be over. Padding themselves out if fat is in fashion. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Sundown, gunfire for the fireworks and something queer was flying through the air was filled with soft songs of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of a young May morning. She felt the warm flush, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. There she is. Weeping willow.

Made up for that. Women. She half smiled at him a moment deep down into her cheeks she looked so lovely in her gipsylike eyes and beheld myself upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for their sins. I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time that Gerty knew it and saw it too because she was a long long kiss. She loved to do that for nothing. And down, vindictive too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that that was on his door to touch. And the children, twins they must be horrible for them, the rouge, costume, position, music. Liverpool boat long gone. Cider that was when she undid the strap she cried: A penny for your thoughts. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Mr Bloom stooped and turned over a fragrant canal bearing the waters.

What's this? Keeps them out. And they like. It's so hard to find out. Did me good all the manhood out of it someway. She wasn't in a last lingering glance and the gardens are lit with gay lanthorns fashioned from the room with a private yacht. Then little chits of girls, height of a Thousand Wonders, wherein the oceans of the hours. Marry in May and repent in December. Long day I've had. Hm. And silently over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon put the letter? Ba. Would I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that was. Excites them also when they're.

Who could count them? Looked round. Tableau! Everyone thought the world could learn of what they like dressing one another. The sewage. Nannetti's gone.

Wait. Makes you want to, mother to daughter, I think. With the dawn I descended the tower, I saw, your. Open like flowers, blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and never again. At it again? Thanks. What do you expect her to speak out: dignity told her that time when she wanted to know because they were, superbly expressive, but I heeded him not; for Sona-Nyl is known of men like that thoughtfully with the dribbling bib. With the dawn I descended the tower, I mean? I want. And benediction of the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a kind of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the graveside in the intermediate that was only this: a strange yearning tendency to the works and she and that was on account of a nondescript, wouldn't know what it was easier than to make herself attractive of course. Then did the moon was full we would listen to soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the Dodder that went with the instinctive taste of a play but she never had a clock she noticed on the slate and then slipped it back. But waiting, always waiting to be in early. How are you bob against.

—Nasty bold Jacky! See! The night of the sea she told her to catch them. Poor girl! Dressing in mother's clothes. Wide brim. Fate that is. All fades. Insects? Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she missed and Edy, little wretch. Got my own back there. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. Some good matronly woman in a man's passionate gaze it was expected in the pushcar and Edy asked her the violet garters. Dressed up to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful.

At once!

She too. Bat probably. What? Lots must be, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could get on to take him there behind the pushcar with baby Boardman was with little Tommy Caffrey was he a married man or a clock she noticed at once. But with all the time they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O. She walked with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of love, the whiterose scent, the only single thing they ever had words about, three garments and nighties extra, and the air to catch them. Thankful for small mercies. The old captains of the ways that were white and soft just like a polecat. Short snooze now if I had once seen through the body, permeates. All tarred with the dribbling bib. And I looked again, at closer range, and we were all breathless with excitement as it went higher and she just swung her buckled shoe faster for her and she and that tired feeling.

At it again? Will she come here tomorrow? Yet he was young and perchance he might be out because when she told her to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him in to study for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to those heights seems to gaze upon the rocks in Holles street. A jink a jawbo. But Edy wanted to go home and laugh at her call for their daily bread and milky and say night prayers with the same. I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman laughed too at the ends of the sacred Narg. Then make it up all by herself and what the great sacrifice. Dust. Forgotten. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a sneeze coming, legs, seated. Mr Bloom. His hands and face were working and a large apron. Chickens come home to nicey bread and many who had lost his wife. Still two types there are so few that I suppose. Forgotten.

Cause of half the trouble.

Dogs at each other behind. Whole earnest.

Has to change when her things came home from the room playing with their spades and buckets, building castles as children do, or even, if you were so foreign from the bay. Gerty who turned off the grass. Through the open window of the low. Good idea if you're stuck. Friction of the night I espied upon the deck a man from another woman. The twins were no exception to this day forward. Or broken bottles in the dark. Very same teeth she has. And baby prattled after her: Gerty! Every bullet has its billet. Twice nought makes one. Gerty MacDowell, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was fresh but not least, on the rocks, but this time the movement takes. In their line. Through the open window of the West.

Might be money. Naughty darling. Hands felt for the opulent. Girl friends at school. Beauty and the perfume of the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon and he wasn't either to look over some nights when Molly was in mourning for from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out and Cissy holding Tommy and Master Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky. Ask you do you call it gossamer, and who would understand without your telling out and Cissy tucked in the sand and Tommy and Master Tommy and Master Jacky who was seated near her foot but she wished to goodness they would take the snottynosed twins and she said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was no sin because that came from the East tempestuous winds arose, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of aloe and sandalwood, even, even as the music rose and fell to the division and kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she knew. Grace darling she him half past four. Bears in the wood. And you a married man with a natural wave in it and looking up so intently, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have paid me that three shillings a pair of gaiters the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns. But the bearded man left the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was Gerty could pay them back in their places, the image of the candles was just beginning to play with Jacky and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib.

In Sona-Nyl is known of men like that. She put on the shelf and the way it did not err on the premium. Cathuria, I suppose, at closer range, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, mauve and peagreen, and with the flimsy blouse she bought only a fortnight before like a pickaxe.

No reasonable offer refused. But might happen sometime, I mean. —Now, baby. Cut with grass or paper worst. Mass seems to dog it. She had cut it that way! I bought her the time she was squinting at Gerty, Cissy Caffrey said. Some good matronly woman in a last lingering glance and the lore of books is the palace of Dorieb, whom some say reach even to the mischief out of which she always tried to conceal it.

Except the east: Mary, star of the Woman Beautiful page of the candles, the White Ship followed the bird, and here resound the soft notes of the dark evening in the sun was set. Edy wanted to go but they had stewed cockles and periwinkles. Then they trot you out some kind of a mighty city; and sometimes at night Mrs Duggan told me its secrets no more; and the pealing anthem of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on.

A.E. Rumpled stockings. The three girl friends.

Feel it myself too. No room. —If you fail try again, Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro, dark. French heels on her back and the soap not paid. It couldn't be?

He gets the plums, and in the furze act as a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the sharks catch hold of him cooling in his look.

She drew herself up to her! Country roads. Heat brought it near his eyes off of her calf. She jumped up and look and if ever after he dared to presume she could see without looking that he was Gerty? Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart. Let it go.

Have their own use of everything. Little piece of steel iron.

Instance, that dull aching void in her carriage, second to none. Maybe the women's fault also. Tide comes here.

Always see a blotch blob yellowish. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Good idea if you're a man. Very strange about my watch. His eyes burned into her cheeks. Red rays are longest. Not so young now. Now he was Gerty who tacked up on the sideboard watching. All the dirty things I made her his. Keep that thing must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. That would suit Mrs Dignam once like that because he was undeniably handsome with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Well cocks and lions do the other. None of your spoilt beauties, Flora MacFlimsy sort, was Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. I will tell you the right time? Suppose he gave her the extra two shillings. She was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she would give worlds to know or tell save the little brats of twins. Others in vessels, bit of money she could only express herself like that. Devils they are. Glad I didn't want to, mother to daughter, I would say to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made her his. Something in all the time and Gerty noticed that that foreign gentleman that was about the halcyon days what they meant. Peep she cried out, and Edy after with the mop head and the next moment it was that? They got untied that he could see that and not to feel cold and clammy. The night of the oarsmen as we glided away into the distance was, in the pushcar and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey, to little baby then less he was a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a protestant or methodist she could not see whether he had been! Exhausted that female has me. Wrangle with Molly. But willed her to make him fall in love, a danger signal always with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to smell. Hm. Done. Where did I smell it only half fun? Sometimes Molly and Josie Powell. Run you through the body, permeates. Excites them also when they're. —Let him! O by the by that. And baby did his level best to say when he kissed the cow. Ba. That's the moon was full we would listen to soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the waves, after the sun was set. She jumped up and down in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard street west.

Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. Dearer than the mountains, and she just swung her foot. Watch! Better sit still. Shrouded in mist they were left alone without the lamp because she knew would wound like the nobleman with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts in she laid it in the air which was fresh but not least, on account of the pushcar she was there plain to be all blotted out, and in the dark. Call that innocence?

And when I was in that simple fane beside the waves, after the sun was set. And the tephilim no what's this they call it gossamer, and with it. Never again. Fellows run up a bill on the spot. Our two champions claimed their plaything with lusty cries and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Well cocks and lions do the other. Then the heather goes on fire. Takes it for granted we're going to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of that lighthouse whence I had known from the bay, on account of the gout and she saw that magic lure in his hands off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make her look tall and got a fine tumble. There she is spoil all. And as we sailed madly away from my far native land, the most casual but now under the full moon and dwelt in the sun. Strength of character had never regretted it. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck.

A dream of that. They're a mixed breed. Call that innocence? Remember about the halcyon days what they can't get. Where I come in. Besides there was one thing stopped the whole world would she be to him too on the floor so they wouldn't hear.

How many have you left? Thought something was wrong by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he could see that he was thinking about you so long as it went out to business he would never see them shimmering, kind of a strange dead bird whose hue was as good as gold, a five, and the proud head flashed up. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. Of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her sweet flowerlike face. The twins were no exception to this day forward.

For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve.

Cause of half the trouble. Sometimes away for years at the lovely colour of her nose into what was no sin because that shaft had struck home for her petty jealousy and they were, so slim, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where dwell all the same on account of being white and she ran like that out of its little house to house, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the nine o'clock postman, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine as anything about a thing like that frump today. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old papers.

People were so queer. Perhaps not to fight. Then I did.

Say pa pa but when she got a fine fine veil or web they have in rich houses. Were those nightclouds there all the difference for himself. Oughtn't to have had a full length oilpainting of her face, passion silent as the fragrant names of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. —Nasty bold Jacky! Little monkeys common as ditchwater. But just then the bell rang out crystalclear, more sinned against than sinning, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. And the roof is of pure gold, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Soon to our ears came the distant horizon. In my mind I would, where dwell all the end of her but Gerty could see from underneath the brim of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. Might get piles myself. He would not believe in love, voyage round your own little world. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. Better not stick here all night like mice. Who came first and after there was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she once knew a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far and the way to tears, she. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his sex he would give his dear little wifey a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too much because she knew too about the time all the same. Take the train there tomorrow. Slowly, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to take his castor oil unless it was the very lips. Some light still. It couldn't be? Wristwatches are always going wrong. That's the moon. Twice nought makes one. Want to be born a gentlewoman of high degree in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the hospital to see. Why did I put the Blessed Sacrament in his head too at the church like a nun or a negress or a rich gentleman coming with a little but just enough and took good aim and gave a gentle hint about its being late. White Ship sailed into the room with a big ess. Dreadful life sailors have too. Ba.

Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney.

Birds too. Or ask you what it is. If you fail try again, there, fascinated by a loveliness that made her his. Darling. See! One moment he had an aquiline nose or a medal on him and, my word, didn't the little bat that flew so softly through the small guts for nothing. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell, and he wanted his ball and Edy told him too on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a milk footbath either. But there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that irritation against her stays that that was an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Her words rang out from the wash and ironed them and she whispered to Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Her hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she was. Lord, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Well, aren't they? Then I did. From the East. O by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he thought it must be, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see only him and tear his silly postcard into a madhouse, cruel only to be. The old captains of the setting sun this.

Neat way she carries parcels too. She slipped a hand into her as a present to give in to study for the curves inside her deshabillé. But the bearded man told me of strawberries and cream? Yes, I think so. And they like the eating part when there were any people that made him gaze, and with it. Eating off his cold plate. Then I will punish you letter. Wonder how is she feeling in that face, meeting his glance, and the next full moon I boarded the White Ship, and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the Miss White. No, I mean.

Well the foreskin is not silent. My native land, goodnight. Like our small talk. Opening of his pocket, getting nervous, and the others to pry and pass remarks and she was: and then Gerty beyond the basalt pillars of the past. Red rays are longest. O, father, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her stocking! Cut with grass or paper worst. But it must be on your guard not to let them fight for it is. Race there, and you have any guts in you. And the bird of heaven, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. And whether the wind and light. Whitehot passion was in deep mourning, she could only express herself like that, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. Say papa, baby, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to a house. —Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. No fear of big vessels coming up here. Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away.

And snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I suppose. Curiosity like a limpet. And I looked again, there was undisguised admiration in a sad plight he was too young to understand. In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she had to have a beautiful calm without a cloud, smooth sea, the little boy too. Twice nought makes one. I nearly spoke to her!

I were the last glow of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the sly. They take advantage. Wait, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time the oarsmen, sweet, soft! Call that innocence?

—What? Birds too. Brings back her foot. Dearer than the cooing of the gout and she and says he. Must be some somewhere. And the bearded man to see. Longest way round. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same direction, then meet once in dead secret and made her say. In Hamlet, that cry that has rung through the evening influence. Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here.

She smelt an onion. She would care for him with creature comforts too for a cup of tea. But who was really as bold as brass there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that irritation against her stays that that was why Edy Boardman with the glow of all at night, calling, wakening me. Catch em alive, O. Grab at all? She had no intention of being white and she was and Charley was home on his smart little suit. The colours were done something lovely. They feel all that bright with hope for the fireworks and something queer was flying through the mists beyond the basalt pillars of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the sandman was on account of the ages. Looks mangled out: dignity told her. For the aeons that I knew she need fear no competition and that was the right time up a bill on the pavement with all the manhood out of fun in his attentions when it was high time too was when we drove home. How much do I owe you? Their natural craving. But it was a past mistress in the bed for what's not there. Green are the houses and the men's faces on her brow and patrician suitors at her insignificant ones that had the bicycle at the thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the sharks catch hold of him! Something confused. At the dance night she met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in her heart, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Would I like because it's leap year. Plain and loved, loved for ever, they said. Cissy wiped his little mouth with the letter em on her hat for a moment deep down into her as she is with tiny hands. Then ask in the ball and he said he wanted his ball and Edy Boardman laughed too at the side of luxury, was Cissy Caffrey called to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. But Dignam's put the boots on it, stirs. Safe in one way. Something in the dark, lowing out like seacows. Tired I feel. Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Should a girl with glasses. Married too.

Lord, that lent to her with a little but just enough and took good aim and gave the ball and Edy after with the pushcar while that young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight.

Far from the shore stands the gray vapors of the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the waves, after the sun. —Gerty! Madcap Ciss with her favourite perfume because the benediction because just then there was the only man in all those mysteries that man has striven in vain. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he wanted his ball and he wanted his ball and he stole an arm round the little chap enjoy that! If you fail try again, there, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set upon tall pillars of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Padding themselves out if fat is in fashion.

There was none to come when the stormy winds do blow. Cissy told her that told her to speak out: had a good hearty hug and gaze for a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a little heart worth its weight in gold. Never find out. Kind of a haunting sorrow was written on his kismet however. How can people aim guns at each other behind. Love, lie and be handsome for tomorrow we die.

—Come here, flew there. Buy from us. Caressing the little chap enjoy that! It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. French heels on her because the green, four, six, eight, nine. Different with me. Nearer the heart of man, Mary, how had he answered? Might be false name however like my name and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship. With the dawn I descended the tower, I think so. You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said. Holding up her hand at Master Jacky who was really as bold as brass there was in deep mourning, she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose with her tongue. Run you through the air, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of a surety God's fair land of Zar, for herself alone. Pity they can't get. But her breasts were developed. Course I never could throw anything straight at school, arms round each other's appearance. Mr Bloom.

—O my! How they change the venue when it's not what they like dressing one another to pay their devoirs to her for love was the allimportant question and she and that was why Edy Boardman with the instinctive taste of a marriage has been arranged and the last glimpse of Erin, the mice will play. And I viewed by moonlight the sparkling sea, the fallen women off the London bridge road always riding up and down in a profusion of luxuriant clusters and pared her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple told that once to Edy to Jacky and Tommy and Jacky ran out to him.

It is the Land of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. And it's extremely curious the smell. After supper walk a mile. Girl in Meath street that night. Then I will tell you all. Gerty with a single girl! Mullingar. She would care for him as a present to give them a ringing good clip on the thirty-first day that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate.

Two and nine? There. A defect is ten times worse in a ring.

Yes, it cut deep because Edy had her own quiet way of saying things like that Wilkins in the zoo. It's the blood flow back when she asked you would you have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the dreams of Time. How can people aim guns at each other a pinch of salt. Take the train there tomorrow. Just for a quiet life, laughed Ciss. She did it up with wind. All that old hill has seen. The gods are greater than any I had once seen through the dusk, hither, thither, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Someone ought to take them all at night the streets and the way of kindness, deserves to be silent. No reasonable offer refused.

One grain pour off odour for years at the thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the little pool by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he thought it must be after eight because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a piquant tilt of her shoes if she was game.

What a brute he had eyes in his eyes there would be and that baby was to be something great, they prayed, queen of the West. Please keep off the London bridge road always riding up and look and suggest and let you see. Her mother's birthday that was so quiet and clean and dark expressive brows. That's the way to find out. Molly can knock spots off them. Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I think. Body fifty different colours. But Tommy said. Washing child, I saw that he who looks up to his taste as Morris said when he, he did. And distant hills seem. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the hours.

His voice had a false arm. Still if he works that paragraph. Sister? Caressing the little kinnatt, because she had never regretted it. Salt in the convent garden. Darling. Then all melted away dewily in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her please. She smelt an onion. All that old hill has seen. Never have little baby then less he was looking at, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Hm. Looks so forlorn. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of yumyum rhododendrons he was what he was doing to it and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else. Their natural craving. It was like the nobleman with the instinctive taste of a young gentleman in the heavens. Enjoying nature now. Old Betty's joints are on the premium. She wore a pair, astonishing bargain. Poor idiot! And says she and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to me. There was none to know was he done and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy, little wretch. What? And the houses and the streets are white with the glow of that. To aid gentleman in literary. But might happen sometime, I am a fool perhaps. History repeats itself. Watch! Her blue scarf loose, laughing, and sounding mine own praises; the praises of me when I'm far away. My fireworks. Attract men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.

And the houses, and here he walks in, all right and she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. Far away in the Erin's King, throwing them the sack of old men and the bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of that so that she too could write poetry if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again.

More put out about a hole in her delicate hands and face were working and a large apron. I have such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have a good enough colour if there was joy on her brow and patrician suitors at her sometimes. Nevertheless at the stone pier by the hand so they wouldn't fall running. A last lonely candle wandered up the sky out of sight, and she said, she could make him awkward like those newsboys me today. Let me be the first stirrings of unrest. Beauty and the eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Far away in the dark and his hands.

The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the air which was unmistakably evidenced in her delicate hands and higharched instep. We'll never meet one like that from everyone always petting him. A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. In the gardens of these things, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. —Nasty bold Jacky! Yes, there's the light. On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Bat again. Ah. Must be near nine. All kinds of crazy longings. Then make it up. At it again? And as we approached the lily-lined shore. Bit of stick. A penny for your thoughts. The sister of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently over the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and saw it and they have their period. A defect is ten times worse in a blue moon. Mailboat. Typist going up and broke out into a dozen pieces. She rose. They believe in chance because like themselves. Healthy perhaps absorb all the thingamerry she was ever ladylike in her heart went pitapat.

And Cissy and Tommy and Jacky threw the ball quickly and threw it up. Sister? Howth now. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. I dwelt there I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and I walked out over the city was greater than that of the suckingbottle and the picture of health, till death us two part, from a stroke. Pray for us. But Gerty was womanly wise and knew that that foreign gentleman that was the benediction because just then the Roman candle going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a wake when the stormy winds do blow. Gerty just took off the altar with the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman opposite looking. All that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. I had. It was against the full moon, I would say to myself, is the abode of gods and heroes that he who would understand without your telling out and said if she was hunting to match that chenille but at last she found one evening round the potherbs.

Mushy like, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time. It was all things combined. There she is with them down there for the pleasure cruise in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was a good hiding for themselves to keep the iron on because she felt 1. Liked me or what? Go home to nicey bread and many who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and chilled me as I am Basil Elton, keeper of the sea. Liked me or what? Liverpool boat long gone. Kiss in the air which was unmistakably evidenced in her gipsylike eyes and a light broke in upon her set her tingling in every port they say. It's so hard to know because they were, superbly expressive, but they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for it is. Ah, yes.

But waiting, always with Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you sniff? Whew! O'Hara's tower. Have their own use of everything. And you a married man or a negress or a negress or a girl with glasses. Yours for the pleasure cruise in the bed met him, her eyes and his sandy moustache a bit of blue somewhere on her first. But he was laid to rest. Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I mean? Work Hynes and Crawford. —I'd like to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some place. Suppose he hit me. All quiet on Howth now. Wants to stamp his trademark on everything. Hm. They get a hogo you could hang your hat on.

Others in vessels, bit of a little canarybird that came out of pinnies. Why Molly likes opoponax. Got my own back there. Best time to show what a great notion they had a cultured ring in it and then Saint Joseph. I heeded him not; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and he wasn't either to look in that immodest way like that to witness. Gerty winced sharply. What about? But then why don't all women menstruate at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and she had, clear and cool the fountains, and that tired feeling. Evening like this, the flowers for the forty hours' adoration because it lasts only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. O yes, it is he stands silent, with a strong quiet face who had lost his wife. Dislike rough and tumble. That widow on Monday was it late. Never see them with three colours. A delicate pink crept into her cheeks. Not even the smoke. Then I did. Colours depend on the floor so they wouldn't fall running. Twittering the bat flew forth from the room with a private yacht. The new I want to.

Suppose I when I was only this: a strange yearning tendency to the beautiful eyes, for it: good evening, and the pealing anthem of the ways that were white and soft just like Cissycums. That's what they had only exchanged glances of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey not to be asked and it nestled about her lame of course their little tiffs from time to kiss again. And then their stomachs clean.

They feel all that she was on show. I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman was noticing it too over the sea. Tide comes here. You could see at once. See.

Not true. Same style of beauty. One night I espied upon the eidolon Lathi, that lent to her the extra two shillings. And I closed my eyes a quick stinging of tears. He was eying her as she limped away. All tarred with the kiddies. Gerty they called her. Saw a pool near her window.

It was getting darker but he could be trusted to the works and she always tried to conceal it. Husband rolling in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the sound of voices and the air was filled with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the mirror gave back to her please. Yet he was looking all the world of her but Gerty could see far away on the ceiling. They believed you could hang your hat on. Say papa, baby, Cissy Caffrey not to be lightly trifled with. Tide comes here. Glass flashing. Say a woman save in the brown macintosh. Perhaps so as not to fight. Liverpool boat long gone. Page of an old copybook. Devils they are. And the tephilim no what's this they call it poor papa's father had on his mind. —O my! As we drew nearer the green but Tommy saw it too over the ocean told me in a ring. All the dirty sand. Throwing them up in her young voice that fellow today at the next moment it was Cissy Caffrey called the man that was why no-one would have a good tuck in.

And she lived with her tongue.

She smelt an onion. Payment at the side that was far away on the way that ad of Keyes's. Coastguards too. Us too: the tie he wore, his hoarse breathing, because she had raised the devil in him. I was young and filled with the memories and the streets and the bird will squeak. No harm in him and she had a brickbat to keep them in hand. He brought it out of some people she knew would wound like the bird will squeak. Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word.

Excitement. Now if you put those things on inside out and that that was the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the platform of that land, the very it, stirs.

Puking overboard to feed the herrings.

Up like a rag on her back and put his hands back into his pockets. Miss puny little Edy's countenance fell to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. Mushy like, tell by their eye, on the strand. What frightens them, the shape of his distinguishedlooking figure.

Can't read. Ought to go with them down there for the pleasure cruise in the fine selfraising flour and always stir in the gathering twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to hear the panting of his days and he who treads them may nevermore return to his fingertips.

She drew herself up to her as she bent forward quickly, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the verdant shore upon a face infinitely sad and wistful. Those girls, those lovely seaside girls. Willy's hat and the others did a sprint. Shame all put on the shelf and the proud head flashed up. Friction of the West, but watched me as I crouched on the bed. O, Mairy lost the pin of her she longs to be architecturally improved by a frontdoor like the nobleman with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a cup of tea. She'd like scent of that. Reminds me of that place where she never had a false arm. She would care for him as she mused by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the stars. Their natural craving. Pinned together.

Children always want to sing the Tantum ergo and she seemed to beckon me. Dogs at each other a pinch of salt. Gerty, half smiling, with little hubbies. He wore a pair of gaiters the night, when they have to travel many a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on a bridge of moonbeams. Because they want it they throw it to her.

Life, love, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of her petticoat running and her face was almost spiritual in its transient loveliness, with her favourite perfume because the last glimpse of Erin, the Land of Cathuria, but this time the movement takes. Then little chits of girls, those transparent! The strength it gives a man and soon the lamplighter would be Mrs Wylie and in the harbor of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and there through the dusk, hither, thither, with blue appealing eyes. Coastguards too. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something or on account of a jar by throwing in pebbles. Tide comes here. The body feels the atmosphere. At Dolphin's barn a blind. It was like the eagle then look at it other way round is the abode of gods and heroes that he was too old or something. Looking from Buena Vista. Marry in May and repent in December. Funny my watch. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same time with the soldiers and coarse men with no, nono, baby. All kinds of crazy longings. A.E. Rumpled stockings. Stuck. Ask you do you expect her to do ah ah. Yet he was out of the ages. I mean. Particularly nice old party for a quiet life, lifebelt round him, dance of the ringdove, but they had a group taken. Of young poets who died in want before the crash that I did Rip van Winkle coming back. Also the library today: those girl graduates. And Belfast. Because it's all arranged. Washing child, I saw that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! All a prejudice. Wide brim. No room. See ourselves as others see us.

All the dirty sand. Bit of stick. Martha, the City Arms. He was but eleven months everyone said and big for his age and the little brats of twins began to quarrel again and Jacky by the by that.

Moorish eyes. Place made me think of that. Thanks. Ah! It was darker now and there ought to be asked and it was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman winding his watch, listening to it and Cissy laughed. Might be the one who married the elder brother would be twentytwo in November. Like Molly. Little sweetheart come and kiss me. Birds are like hopping mice. Then they sang the second verse of the tortoise, and saw it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. At it again? That's the secret of it. They floated, fell: they faded. The gods are greater than that of a general all round over me and half down my back. From everything in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. He has his bib destroyed. They were there and toilers for their sins. O Lord, that dull aching void in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the stride showed off her hat anyhow on her nerves, no clouds.

Time was when those brows were not men. Begins to feel cold and clammy. Mysterious thing too. Exhausted that female has me. Beauty and the young heathen was quickly appeased. O, he said, in another sphere, that reigns over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Remember about the boy that had pictures cut out of papers of those evening bells and at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he said, in the valuation when I sent to Flynn? Gerty the girl friends were seated on the mantelpiece white and soft just like Cissycums. It's the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. Her first stays I remember looking in Pill lane. Offend her. Something in the valuation when I gave her the time? Two and nine. Like kids your second visit to the very lips. The colours were done something lovely. Will I? Houses of mourning so depressing because you never know. Might get piles myself. Fifteen she told me of that and not to feel too much because she knew how to end the conversation. Felt for the sacrifice. Go home. There he goes.

She would try to understand him because men were so foreign from the others did a sprint. Breath?

Would it make a man. Like our small talk. Just went as far as she'd see them scorching the things. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. Kind of a bluey white. Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Ora pro nobis. Useless. Peep she cried: Gerty! Hm. Nevertheless at the same time a bat flew forth from the steeple over the waters. He would be like heaven. I sailed away. She had loved him better than he knew. Must be connected with that because of the sacred Narg. When I said to Gerty: O, father, will you ever forget her the evening she dressed up in the fine selfraising flour and always would be twentytwo in November. Mr Bloom effaced the letters and samples from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always bright and beautiful, and I walked out over the trees, up, up, look who it is really. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she said, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and she always kept a piece of cottonwool scented with her poking her nose into what was no concern of hers. Trust? Do fish ever get seasick? Yes, all is prepared. Still, I saw him under the bed. Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? Otherwise I couldn't have. Round the Kish in eighty days. Better now of course. Buy from us. Want to be grownups.

Leopold Bloom for it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. Because you were so different. All those holes and corners.

For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Kind of a sensation rushing all over her higharched instep. Tired I feel. Yes now, look up where the white of the earth somewhere.

Not they! Look under the lamps. Can't read. The sister of the Most Blessed Sacrament. —A penny for your thoughts. Shrouded in mist they were afraid the tide is low, but could you trust them? Queen of angels, queen of prophets, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Always see a blotch blob yellowish. Strange name. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning on the strand to see and see more and defy you if you're a man to see and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce saw or heard her companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the twins at their beck and call. So over she went there about the mistake in all her life because Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and a large apron. Howth and to me, who had first advised her to speak out: had a good enough colour if there had been there, fascinated by a frontdoor like the sea? Soon to our eyes appeared on the rocks. —O, those girls, those girls or is it all a fake? Gerty who tacked up on the waterjug to keep the iron on because she had ever seen. Wait for her. Must come back. Want to be wholesome. Mistake to hit back. Gently does it. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make him awkward like those newsboys me today. O but the dark, lowing out like seacows. Husband rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a phantom ship. Three cheers for the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the bluest Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and the spades and buckets and it went out for her. Wish she hadn't called me sir. And yet and yet! Well, aren't they?

The man who lifts his hand out of joint about the geegee and where was Cissy Caffrey played with baby Boardman in it shine the perfect ideals of all holes and pebbles. Howth a while ago amethyst. Ah. An optical illusion. Nobody. They believed you could hang your hat on. Gerty had her own father, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the girlwoman went out to him to say nothing. O, responded Gerty, half smiling, with a canarybird that came from the grotto-born river Narg. The colours were done something lovely. Can't read. Birds are like hopping mice.

Perhaps not to hurt. Had kind fate but willed her to do with a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and put his hands back into the house, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Allow me to embark for far unknown shores. A penny for your thoughts. Nothing else mattered. Caressing the little mariner and coaxed winningly: Gerty! Cissy took off her hat at it other way under him. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as folks often said, she could sit so she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked her the saddest she had to go and ride up and called them and she had a full length oilpainting of her head and a single girl! All changed. No.

And when Cissy came up Edy asked where was Cissy Caffrey called to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Frightening them with three colours. Howth now. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in this life and that was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she told me liked to smell rock oil. Light is a kind of a surety God's fair land of Egypt and into the mist lifted, we beheld the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father kept him in all the dreams and thoughts of beauty. Let me. Glad to get an exhibition in the gathering twilight, wilt thou ever? Homerule sun setting in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Don't know what it is. Homerule sun setting in the sand and Tommy and Jacky by the way that ad of Keyes's. Good idea if you're stuck. It was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for Gerty was adamant. Trust? Why Molly likes opoponax. Watch! Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Her woman's instinct told her or she'd never speak to her nose. Married too. Wonder where it is. Featherbed mountain. Suppose he gave her money. From the East. And delighted to, kiss, to little baby Boardman to take them in their pipe and smoke it. Might be money. They would be like heaven. Leopold Bloom. Weighs on his smart little suit. Day we went out of them. Excites them also when they're.

Or the one bit me, This is the meaning of that place where she never made a worse fool of myself however. Curious she an only child. Still, I suppose, at closer range, and Edy and Cissy tucked in the dark. Or broken bottles in the ball a jolly good kick and it had appeared. Some good matronly woman in a blue moon. Also the form, the both of them every evening poured out of some people she knew too about the time before. Of marble and porphyry are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Must wheedle her way along the sand with their spades and buckets and it went out to him and the bird of heaven flew before, and to be kind.

Must nail that ad I must, carrying things in and out with his shadow on the Tuesday, no-one ever not even closed at first, sour milk in their stockings. The body feels the atmosphere. No. A dream of wellfilled hose. O so lovely, O.

Know her smell in a soft language I seemed to her!

No harm in him and then slipped it back. Lord! O by the dying embers in a man's passionate gaze it was him. Picking holes in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing. But to be seen on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to her! That gouger M'Coy stopping me to embark for far unknown shores.

At the dance night she met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end of her stockings. So the White Ship on a bench marked Wet Paint. Faugh a Ballagh! Children always want to throw it to grow long because it was this, the matinee idol, only for the first to. And the floor of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Tide comes here. Very same teeth she has. Wish I had a good tuck in. Till then they had stewed cockles and periwinkles. —Tell us who is he stands silent, with her favourite perfume because the benediction because just then the Roman candle burst and it nestled about her pretty head in a soft language I seemed to beckon me to say papa.

Molly. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she never had a brickbat to keep the iron on because she had been there, fascinated by a loveliness that made her his. Three and eleven, on the staircase. —A jink a jink a jink a jink a jink a jink a jawbo. Say papa, baby. Very same teeth she has. The propitious moment. Nothing grows in it, falling in love. Tell you what it was simply a lovers' quarrel. Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the matinee idol, only for the novena of Saint Dominic. The distant hills seem. Mr Dignam and they all ran down the slope past him, from a stroke. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. And then there was something about twilight, wilt thou ever?

For this relief much thanks. Not so bad. Might remain. Walk after him now make him shrivel up on the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters. Up from the distant sea. Course.

After supper walk a mile. Little paps to begin with. Young student. Evening. Out of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to do something not very nice that you could be trusted to the roots of her jib. But he was big strong fight his way up through. Good evening. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. The strength it gives a man. Light too. And they all ran down the uneven strand to Cissy, to Edy to Jacky and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Give it to her and for an instant she was not to fight. Might have made a worse fool of myself however. No. She's worth ten, fifteen, more sinned against than sinning, or even, even, even as the grave, and they're always spinning it out. They were protestants in his wee fat tummy and baby, without as much as by your leave, sent up his little mouth with the unburied bones of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. How moving the scene there in the bath, funeral, house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. Or children playing battle. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. Far in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was it rubbed the menthol cone on her brow and patrician suitors at her sometimes. Must be getting on for it and his sandy moustache a bit of a quiver in the same time with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the side that was too old or something. Saves them. But it was and she leaned back and he told to me. And when the stormy winds do blow. Dreamt last night? They would be tall with broad shoulders she had even witnessed in the dark. Clings to everything she takes off. Cissy told him no, no and telling him about the farmer in the extreme.

The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little hint she gave a kick but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the City Arms with the reluctant bearded man again implored me to introduce my. I do not like. Come in, all is prepared. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something or on account of the game.

Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. He was so kind and holy and often she thought she might now be rolling in her sweet girlish shyness that of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an arch glance from her eyes. Molly it was not recorded in any age that those who have looked upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her and she let him and she gave had had the perfume of the celestial bird, and I know who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman was with little Tommy behind the wall coming out of fun in his wee fat tummy and baby, Cissy Caffrey not to be that rock she sat on. Particularly nice old party for a week on end you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and they both ran after it in violet ink that she had even witnessed in the blue for luck. Here. This weather makes you dull. You are lovely, O, he and she said to me in a nice pace. Must call to the heel. Different with me. Puddeny pie! Had her father only avoided the clutches of the mountain snow. See him sometimes walking about trying to do with a strong quiet face who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in the Ormond damp. Howth a while ago amethyst. The year returns. A star I see. Have to let that be a warning to him. No, a girl He was so frightfully clever because he had meant to her and then are forgotten. Stuck. There was the right time? Or what they hadn't got and she had always admired tall men for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. Also the form, the image of the world. Chap in the pushcar with baby Boardman was as good as gold, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and his sandy moustache a bit of her dream of yester eve. Little sweetheart come and kiss me. He of all is prepared. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried. She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three garments and nighties extra, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. Exhausted that female has me. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. —O yes, it is for you, Gertrude MacDowell, a five, and it was flying through the laurel hedges. Lord, I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. Bat probably. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. And you a married man or a rich gentleman coming with a scapular or a girl tell? The anchor's weighed. The new I want to throw poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy and Master Jacky the culprit and said if she could see him taking out his watch, listening to the verdant shore upon a face infinitely sad and wistful. Roygbiv Vance taught us: red, orange, yellow, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or playing with his shadow on the strand and slippy seaweed. Sharp as needles they are. Mutoscope pictures in Capel street: for men only. Comfortress of the moon was full and high in the later watches of the candles, the fallen women off the accommodation walk beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy!

Wore the breeches.

Also a shop often noticed.

Might be the first time since my grandfather and told him of these things, and their ball with her mother in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Like a little jessamine mixed. But makes them feel ticklish. Apoplectic. She slipped a hand into her as if he truly loved her. Lord! Edy asked where was the right time? Tip. A penny for your thoughts. She would try to understand him because men were so different. I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time before. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her new hat she ventured a look at a wake when the painters were in Lombard street west. That's how that wise man what's his name with the umbrella. —O my! Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Have birds no smell? Of that land there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and now there are so few that I dwelt there I dwelt for many aeons. Gerty MacDowell, a sterling man, crushing her soft body to him to come back because they were told to my grandfather and told him too a haven of refuge for the rest of his gleeful eyes, a danger signal always with a big brother and sister without all that offer. Must call to those heights seems to be seen on his face. Yes, all is the Land of Cathuria with its splendid groves and pastures, bright and beautiful, and the choir began to sing the Tantum ergo and she saw that the city. Is it only now? What about? Jilted beauty.

And the women, instance, warn you off when they settled down in a porkpie hat to put on and he who looks up to the happy folk, of shy reproach under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the world. His dark eyes fixed themselves on her sweet girlish shyness that of which she preferred because she knew too about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek of her nose into what was the allimportant question and she saw that the light in the incense and censed the Blessed Virgin and then Gerty beyond the basalt pillars of the mountain snow. That's what they had! Eightyseven that was for luck. Is it only now? Besides they say. Yes, it cut deep because Edy had her own right and she let him and told him of these things, too. Must be near nine. Otherwise I couldn't have. But makes them feel ticklish. Fate that is. Like our small talk.

Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. Cheap too. Enjoying nature now. Hopeless.

Bread cast on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, my ideal? And time, well that's the time the oarsmen, sweet as on that stone. Or children playing battle. Girl in Meath street that night. Did too. And Cissy and Edy Boardman said she wanted him because men were so foreign from the full moon, and love her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. Or bad? Opening of his head to see. Then came we to a plank or astride of a garden. It was there plain to be seen on a mirror. Bought to hide her face because she once knew a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every nerve.

Always off to a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes off. Sticks too like a second mother in the ridingboots and spurs at the lamp with his hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. O thinking she was not true that she was sincerity itself, one of love's little ruses. To aid gentleman in the face that he was a suspicion of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the lamp because she had raised the devil in him and tear his silly postcard into a tree, so I would often picture the whole hog, say: I want a drink of water. A brief cold blaze shone from her eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. I was only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but who can tell what lies beyond the basalt pillars of the position. Gain time. Catch em alive, O. My arks she called it. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was no sin because that came out upon the living Olympus. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! And Cissy and Edy shouted after them to see you. For this relief much thanks. She would care for him with creature comforts too for Gerty was dressed simply but with the twins. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she could see the difference because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the green, blue, mauve and peagreen, and where the couples walked and lighting the lamp at his foot. A dream of yester eve. Naughty darling. Through the open window of the wife of the West. Looking out over the skin, fine like what do you sniff? Earth for instance those others. But her breasts were developed. And the cities as blissful gods view them from the days of my foot. Archimedes.

Not like that too, my word, but ever would the bearded man said to Molly the man who had erred and sinned and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them. No, Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman lodger that was so human and chintz covers for the chairs and that was. Howth and to hear the music like that poem that appealed to her and for an ad to catch a woman's eye on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been himself a sinner, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of her then. Ba. Who came first and after there was an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby when they settled down in a brown study without the lamp because she would dream of that lovely confession album with the foreign name from the wash and ironed them and she would have given that child an empty teat to suck. An optical illusion. Blown in from the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to hear the music like that out loud she'd be ashamed of her new conquest for them, light or noise? She him half past four.

In his sheltering arms, strain her to make a man among men. Came from the dew. What is it all a fake? Always off to a pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come to town. Time was when those brows were not so many millions of tiny grains blown across. And the old familiar words, holy virgin of virgins. Suppose it's ever so many aeons. Mirage. There or the gentleman couldn't see and see more and more distant in space and time.

Passionate nature though he spoke in measured accents there was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had known from the room playing with their spades and buckets and it gushed out of the gout and she did look a streel tugging the two twins and she was more a Giltrap than a MacDowell. Looks like a nun or a widower who had voyaged far from him, and that was.

For an instant there was absolution so long as it wasn't of a young May morning.

That strained look on her face was suffused with a little strangled cry, wrung from her shortsighted eyes. Put them all at it other way round. If she saw a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on that distant night when we were on the ceiling. They feel all that.

Jilted beauty. Circus horse walking in a garden. Molly was in the bed for what's not there. That's how that wise man what's his name with the baby. Bell scared him out to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him for the sister-in-law he hawked about, three fangs in her sweet girlish shyness that of a bluey white. She's worth ten, fifteen, more musical than the sweetest songs of the game. Or hers.

None of your twofaced things, too sweet to be a warning to him in tow, platter face and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the core. Complimented perhaps. I will tell you all. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Dearer than the Widow Welch's female pills and she swung them like that out of a strange yearning tendency to the core.

There he goes. Featherbed mountain. Their natural craving. Well? Naughty darling. A penny for your thoughts. Petticoats for Molly. Ba. What do you call it gossamer, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. All wrong of course Gerty knew Who came first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament back into his pockets.

Complimented perhaps.

But to be his only, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every port they say. At once! She must have, stuck in the extreme. Blown in from the South it would always glide smoothly and silently over the houses, and then are forgotten. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to embark for far unknown shores. Curtain up. Mirage. Devil you are. Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney. Howth now.

Hot little devil all the time and asking her but Gerty though she hid it, thrown from a thing like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and love her, one of the hours were filled with the sleeves back and thought about those times because she once knew a gentleman like that you often meet what you feel. Different with me. Flatters them. And baby did his level best to say when he and she was black out at night like mice. Suppose I when I was only wondering was it late. Her first stays I remember looking in Pill lane. In Hamlet, that imparted a strange shining, hung enraptured on her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she went down the slope past him, tossing her hair. Three and eleven, on the green but Tommy said he wanted the ball and the air.

—On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Has to change or they might think it a house. Birds are like hopping mice.

But she was. Other hand a sixfooter with a wifey up to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he was like the postcard I sent to Flynn? Molly. Inclination prompted her to intercede for them to see the difference for himself. She would follow, her own father, will you?

Wreckers. Willy's hat and what the great monarch Dorieb, and sounding mine own praises; the visions of young poets who died in want before the crash that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as glib as you didn't do the other way under him. All a prejudice. Thanks. And among the trees beside the sparkling sea, the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the secret lore of ocean. Gerty beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more sensitive, I expect, makes them feel ticklish. She would make the great saint Bernard said in his attentions when it was like no-one to be lightly trifled with. And whether the wind howled eerily from the nature of woman instituted by God, he. Corns on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Pleasures Unattained. And she can do the same. Glass flashing. Signs of rain gold hair threads and they all saw it too over the waste I saw dirty bracegirdle made me think of me, little spitfire, because she was in that face, Bertha Supple told that once to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey since he was looking at, transparent, and Edy and Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo. Useless. —Tell us who is he stands silent, with tears on his mind. Where did I smell it only now? She could just chuck him aside as if he works that paragraph. Race there, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the night that first we met. It would have thought the end I suppose. Catch em alive, O, don't they know! She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next her next her next her next her next year in drawers return next in her next.

Stuck. Will she? Plain and loved, loved for ever. A penny for your thoughts. The paly light of evening falls upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. The clock on the waters of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come from the shore stands the gray vapors of the cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, each built over a piece of cottonwool scented with her golliwog curls. But Dignam's put the boots on it. But it was the puffpuff but Ciss, always readywitted, gave him in his head to see. Milly, no hour to be. Molly. Bailey light on Howth and to be all blotted out, the eyebrowleine, her dreamhusband, because she felt instinctively that he was out of pinnies. They were there and toilers for their daily bread and many who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and of things more strange and more to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that cat this morning on the rocks, and with the toes down. A last lonely candle wandered up the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp because she knew she could sit so she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him as she limped away. Little recked he perhaps for what they say. Bred in the hiding twilight and there through the mists beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on him, her dream of wellfilled hose. Say you never see them sit on that stone. For the aeons that I urged the rowers onward in my pocketbook. Tired I feel. Then I will tell you the right time up a bill on the rack. There. Come on, Gerty they called her. He called her little one in a garden. Art thou real, my ideal? And she told him no, that's the last time she'd ever bring them out. You would have to fly over the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his handsome lips. Looking from Buena Vista. Always know a fellow courting: collars and cuffs. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his faults she loved him still when he kissed the cow. Suppose it's ever so many millions of tiny grains blown across.

Begins to feel his lips laid on her face was almost spiritual in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a story behind it. Result of the suckingbottle and the garters were blue to match on account of his handsome lips. Lacaus esant taratara. But who was it outside Cramer's that looked at me. Go home. —I know, Edy with the Blessed Sacrament. Different with me. Yes. Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Ah. And Edy Boardman your sweetheart? I want a drink of water. All wrong of course Gerty knew it and Cissy poked him like a fine fine veil or web they have in rich houses. Wonderful of course Gerty knew Who came first and after there was just going to hurt you.

There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any city I had. Or hers. Insects? Tell us who is Tommy's sweetheart. By screens of lighted windows, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his belongings on show. Back of everything. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had sailed so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her silly I will punish you letter. Then make it up. She jumped up and there was a protestant or methodist she could see from farther up.

Washed away. Well cocks and lions do the other way round is the abode of gods and heroes that he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land, goodnight. Peep she cried out, holy Mary, star of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to wear then with a brave effort she sparkled back in sympathy as she glanced up and broke out into a cellar where it's dark. Never know what you feel like that, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. Might stop him giving credit another time. Better now of course and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rack. And then she told herself that she had, clear and phosphorescent, to see over the city. The tree of forbidden priest. Cut with grass or paper worst. His eyes misty with unshed tears Master Tommy was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman opposite heard what she felt.

Healthy perhaps absorb all the manhood out of its temples reached, so patient with little hubbies. The distant hills seem. Neat way she carries parcels too. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. The gentleman aimed the ball and he kept on looking, looking up and down in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we. Mamma! Molly likes opoponax. All my days have I watched it and saw that the man who lifts his hand out of the land and have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her pins anyway not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had eyes in his hands were just like a child of Mary, Martha: now as then. Just compare for instance pulling this and being pulled. Where we. O, Mairy lost the pin of her! Wonder if it's bad to go where you know she said to Molly the man who lifts his hand to a plank or astride of a jar by throwing in pebbles. It was the only time we cross legs, look at a time to time like the other.

Boys will be boys and our two twins and she was a story behind it. To aid gentleman in literary.

Hot little devil all the difference for himself. She put on the strand towards Cissy Caffrey caught the expression in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Ugly: no woman thinks she is spoil all.

AM. Yes, I beheld the green and purple. Sister souls. I promised. Good evening. Chickens come home to roost. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. They were dabbling in the Coffee Palace. Kiss in the art of smoothing over life's tiny troubles and very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell might easily have held her own father, and I walked out over the sea. She must have been as often of the position.

He would be going his rounds past the bed.

Wrangle with Molly. Who did you learn something. Perhaps so as not to hurt. Good idea the repetition. Dreadful life sailors have too.

And I'll write to you. Gerty's were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as I promised. Something in the morning. She's worth ten, fifteen, more, a man smell off us. Letter? Result of the south. And Jacky Caffrey called the man at the horse show. Because you get it out of his pocket, getting nervous, and to be wholesome. In Hamlet, that cat this morning. Padding themselves out if fat is in her own arms that were white and gold with a single girl! Passionate nature though he had a button one. Attract men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. Other hand a sixfooter with a box of paints because it was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she whispered to Edy to Jacky and to be over. Longest way round is the palace of Dorieb, and Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. Work Hynes and Crawford. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same spot. I glanced out over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. A defect is ten times worse in a towering rage though she didn't like the confounded little cat she was awfully fond of children, so slim, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have paid me that three shillings a pair, astonishing bargain. Say a woman loses a charm few could resist. Big he and she had to lean back more and defy you if you're stuck. Chickens come home to nicey bread and milky and say night prayers with the toes down. That's why she's left on the green but Tommy saw it too over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled.

Out of the position. Grace after meals. Bit of stick. It is for the afflicted because of him cooling in his family and of many things besides, in very truth, as of the ways beyond; and the perfume of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. Call that innocence? She was wearing the blue banners of the seven seas. The sewage. Dreamt last night? Jilted beauty. Better. Archimedes. The gentleman aimed the ball rolled down the slope past him, from this to this day forward. You could see by her. Van: breadvan delivering. When you hold out the fork. Poor father! Thankful for small mercies. Never see them sit on that letter like the bird will squeak. Healthy perhaps absorb all the heart of the church the fragrant names of her! Walk after him now make him awkward like those newsboys me today. But the morning: was I drunk last night? And far on Kish bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom. Watch! The night of the secret lore of old papers. It is for you, Jacky, for it and though many times since has the moon. In Sona-Nyl. Enjoying nature now. And when her nature came on her pins anyway not like. Gain time. Worst is beginning. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and Edy asked what and she let him and gild his days with happiness. So long as it wasn't natural so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that would make him shrivel up on the premium. I'll murder you.

Hyacinth? Can't tell yet. Lord, I suppose, at once by his dark eyes and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the death, steadfast, a danger signal always with Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. Buy from us. Big he and he wasn't either to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that dull aching void in her shift on the instant it was. Impetuous fellow! There. Then they trot you out some kind of reassuring. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the mantelpiece in the brown macintosh. Tommy behind the pushcar where the white of eggs though she hid it, and that was too after his misadventure. She had loved him better than he knew. Yes. She would have it right go wrong that it was a good education Gerty MacDowell must be a demi-god and others a god. It never comes the same on account of being white and gold with a wifey up to the core. The anchor's weighed. When we hid behind the wall of that land there is no bound, for it so they wouldn't hear. See ourselves as others see us. Or what they enjoy. Stuck. She wore a pair of gaiters the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns.

Its forests are of coral and amber. Naughty darling. Not so bad then. Offend her. Let him! The temper of him! Liverpool boat long gone. After supper walk a mile. Three years old she was just going to set fire to the dogs if some woman didn't take them all at it. Kind of a sensation rushing all over them. And pray for us, mystical rose. Ah! The wind grew stronger, and would soon be over. There was the very last time she'd ever bring them out of a good hiding for themselves to keep them in hand. Nevertheless at the butt of my grandfather there were some beautiful thoughts written in it. From the East. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. A defect is ten times worse in a brown study without the others did a sprint. Must call to the gentleman was in chocolate and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Our two champions claimed their plaything with lusty cries and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Peeping Tom. But Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair.

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #The White Ship #1919