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beyondconfessor · 3 years

Text

Principle Decisions [17/?]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: “You’re my handmaiden,” Lilith reminded, “Now do your job before I need to properly punish you.”

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

It was coming up to Yule, and with the coming weekend, Zelda made a trip to the city with her family, as per tradition, and ended up shopping in stores that Greendale could only dream of having. Around midday, the family parted to do their Christmas shopping for each other, and Zelda found herself drifting towards a lingerie store.

She looked at the familiar lace and silks that she usually wore, and then to the more modern lingerie, she found Lilith was fond of wearing before she noticed the store’s, so-called, boutique section.

The store was a familiar favourite of Zelda, one she was well versed in enough to know her size for mail-delivery order to Greendale. But that didn’t stop her from curiously examining the leather and latex lingerie. She wasn’t sure how she would look in it, but with Yule coming, it seemed an opportunity for her to explore a new set of lingerie.

The saleswoman enquired once if she needed any assistance, and then left her alone. It left Zelda in peace to flick through the sheer material, the bodysuits and under bust corsets, looking for something that she felt inspired by.

Or rather, that she felt Lilith would feel inspired by when she saw it.

Her eyes roamed the store, before settling on a particular set she liked the looked of, and then, finally, happy with her choice, she took the items to the front desk, presented her credit card and purchased it with a smug feeling. A part of her wanted to take it home and dress in the lingerie to take a photo for Lilith––she could only imagine the woman’s expression––before she decided that, no, she didn’t want to imagine her face, she wanted to see it.

The choice was packed away discreetly in tissue paper, and then gently placed into a bag for her.

When she met up with the rest of the family for their long-standing tradition of junk food from the food court, she found their eyes curiously looking to her bags as she sat down at a table to discuss their purchases.

“Ooh,” Hilda commented, as she pointed to the lingerie bag, “That looks fancy, purchase anything for anyone in particular?”

“For myself,” Zelda assured.

“Well, you certainly seem happy. I’m just saying if Mary…or anyone else…has anything to do with it.”

“Ms Wardwell?” Sabrina said, her face scrunching up. “You’re not dating Ms Wardwell, are you?”

“I am not,” Zelda assured, though a pang hit her heart at her niece's expression. “Not that it would be any of your business.”

“Well, she’s just…” Sabrina made an expression. “She seems too…local for you,” Sabrina said. “And you can’t date my Principal, it’d be weird.”

Zelda refrained from commenting, masking her expression as she raised an eyebrow and sipped at her drink. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to divulge further in, and there was no need. She wasn’t dating Lilith, therefore she didn’t need to be concerned with Sabrina’s opinion.

“Well, Auntie,” Ambrose said. “If you were dating anyone, I’m sure they would be either very fortunate or unfortunate to have you in their life, depending on who the person was. I did note that Mr Putnam Senior was quite smitten the last time we spoke.”

At that, Sabrina’s face brightened, “Are you seeing Theo’s dad?”

Zelda sighed, feeling the familiar arguments rise again. But before she could so much as set the story straight, her entire family had taken her silence to mean that she was, and began throwing a hundred questions at her, enquiring about when it’d occurred, how long it’d been going on and when she was likely to see him again.

“Please,” Zelda cut in, her annoyance rising. “Joe and I aren’t–-“ she tried to argue, but felt her voice, unfortunately, cut off midway through. Due to an ill-timed tickle in her throat, she managed to cover up before it became an issue, but the lapse was enough to cement the idea to her family.

She was now, it seemed, secretly dating Joe Putnam. A headache grew and she held back from saying anything further. There were things to do, gifts to finalise before the end of the day, not to mention that only the day prior, Faustus had begged her to help handle a guest speaker that was coming in for the week before Christmas. Apparently an artist named Marie was doing a guest lecturer for the town on Art and Culture for the local private art gallery.

Apparently, the person who was meant to be helping with the organisation had suddenly quit, and Constance was too deeply wound in stress with the twins to help (so she told him)––as such, it fell on her.

The event was to occur three days before Christmas, which was the day after the alleged orgy was to occur, which meant that Zelda felt the time creeping up faster than she liked, between Christmas preparations, university work and Yule, her week was lined up.

Not to mention that she was still playing catch-up with her own work. Lilith seemed to be just as busy, if not more so with the end of the school term. Teachers were calling in sick, children were acting up, and she seemed to be spending her time running between one crisis or another.

It left her little time for them to see each other, and what they did manage to fit it in, usually involved a quick tumble in the sheets, like she was some secret paramour, before one or both of them were rushing off. Or in some cases, it let them calling each other on the phone.

Though since she’d had that photo taken of herself, Zelda had been feeling bolder, and sending other teasing photos (though none with her face cropped in the image), to Lilith, who turn, had shared similar tantalising photos––though the woman seemed to be well versed in her photos. Zelda felt a competition was beginning to build between them and couldn't help but grow more ambitious.

It meant that Zelda kept her phone close to her at all time, and had the setting set that when it was locked, it was only advised that a new message had come through. The last thing she needed was her family seeing what her messages were.

That wasn’t to say her family hadn’t noticed her newfound interest in her phone, commenting that she was certainly texting more than usual.

And now she had her family harassing her about Joe. “No,” she said, “I have not and will not ever wish to discuss my love life. If I were dating someone, should it become serious, I will agree to divulge the circumstances. As it stands, nothing is happening that any of you should be privy towards.”

“So it’s just sex then,” Ambrose said boldly, and Zelda turned her face to him. “It’s not like we haven’t noticed your increasingly high neckline dresses––you seem to be rather fond of them of late.”

“Enough,” she said, without humour. He turned away, sharing a grin with Sabrina, but neither of the children nor Hilda said anything, leaving a well-deserved silence to fall between them.

And with that, her phone buzzed.

Zelda pulled it out, watching as Sabrina’s eyes tried to sneakily catch a look at the screen as well, before realising she couldn’t see anything.

It was a message from Lilith, but it would have to wait until she was in a more private setting.

She set the phone back into her bag and watched as Sabrina’s eyebrows rose, catching onto the fact that Zelda was trying to be discreet.“Are you all set for your trip tomorrow?” She asked Sabrina, hoping to divert her attention.

“I am. I’ve got everything on the list Roz sent, and anything else I’ll sort out when I’m there. No biggie.”

At that Zelda, refrained from making a comment. Her niece was going to snow and she doubted that it was, indeed, a ‘no biggie’, but Sabrina was old enough that she didn’t need her Aunt packing her bags for her. Should Sabrina forget anything, she was certain that Ms Walker or her parents would be more than willing to help fix the situation.

“Well, then perhaps we should head back?” Zelda said, checking her phone. She was meant to meet Faustus in a few hours to meet the guest speaker. “Was there anything else that anyone needed?”

Thankfully, there wasn’t and Zelda was able to have the family return to the car and drive home, giving her enough time to change into a fresh pair of stockings and heels, switching to her woollen coat, given that she was likely to be meeting Marie in one of the main lecture halls, notorious for never having heating.

At the university, she headed to Faustus’ office. Murmuring came from behind it, and for a moment she considered trying to listen in, before deciding that it wasn’t her business. Knocking on the door, she listened as a sudden silence fell before a shuffling occurred. And then the door was opened and Zelda was greeted to… ”Prudence?”

“Professor Spellman,” she greeted, her face tight as she gave a nod, her eyes looking down at the ground. “Faust––err, Professor Blackwood had asked me to help out with the guest lecturer,” she said before she stepped aside and allowed entrance into the room.

There was a strange tension as Zelda stepped in, and Zelda found the familiar concern rise in her as she thought of Constance Blackwood, at home with the twins, uncertain of what her husband was getting up to with his increasingly late nights.

Sweeping her eyes from Prudence to Faustus, she gave a disapproving look before masking it. “Marie’s meant to meet us in the central hall?” she asked.

“Mm, she’s running a bit late, however. Called to advise she’ll only be a few minutes or so, but there’s no reason to rush.”

Zelda nodded. “So what do you need from me?”

“Honestly,” Faustus sighed and settled back. “I need you to handle the event its self. I have a conflicting arrangement and will be otherwise unavailable. I need you and Prudence to speak to the artist and…find out what she needs to run the lecture. Advertising has been done, and as I understand the social media event is expecting a few dozen occupants.”

Zelda wasn’t surprised. She’d looked up the artist’s work and noted that it would definitely appeal to a wide audience range than some of the other artist guest lecturers they’d had in the past.

“Why is she doing it here and not at the gallery?”

“I don’t know,” Faustus admitted. “Numbers, I suspect. Or it’s tied into one of the function’s the university is doing,” he sighed and shook his head before looking up at Zelda. “I’m trusting you to handle this. If you need anything, let me know.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed, curious as to the unusual sloppiness but nodded her head. “Is there anything else?”

“No, no. Oh, ah, catering. They’re organised but you’ll need to check with them tomorrow, and ensure they’ve got the correct date and time.”

“Send me an email with their details.”

Faustus nodded, and then she watched as he sat at his desk and made a gesture as if to dismiss them. Zelda’s eyebrow quirked, turning and looking at Prudence to see if she thought his behaviour was strange but noted that the young woman was still staring at the ground. Her eyes starring far away as if she was upset or…ashamed.

Anger built in Zelda and she gave a sharp look at Faustus before turning on her heel and exiting the room. If he’d done something, anything to hurt Prudence, she would ensure his career was over.

Heels clicking down the hall, she heard Prudence following her, and then once she was certain they were far enough away, she pulled to a stop, hands on her hips as she stared at Prudence’s crestfallen, distant expression.

“What did he do?”

“What?” Prudence lifted her eyes and stared at her, and a familiar, indignant expression rose on her face as the girl tried to very quickly hide her emotions behind a fragile mask. “He hasn’t done anything. It was a misunderstanding and––“

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Prudence’s face turned to disgust, paling, “No!” she yelped. “No, he’s…it’s not that. It’s a misunderstanding.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if she trusted the entirety of the situation, but Prudence’s reaction seemed genuine at least. “Did he try anything?”

“No.” Prudence stood awkwardly, before she turned, “There’s nothing to worry about, and it’s none of your business anyway,” she said, her tone harsh.

“I beg your pardon?”

There, at least, Prudence looked embarrassed. “I just meant that it’s a private matter, Professor Spellman. I assure you that if anything went against the University’s code, i would not be afraid to go to the Dean in regards to it.”

Zelda drew in a breath and then nodded. It wasn’t her mess to deal with. Although she was curious about whatever it was, she at least believed from Prudence’s disgust that it wasn’t an affair, and therefore was not something she was morally obliged to inform Constance of. God forbid. The woman was going to drive herself crazy digging for the answers, but she could provide the comfort of ensuring that it wasn’t the worst thing possible.

“Do you know much about Marie?” Zelda asked, moving the topic as they continued down the halls, towards the central hall.

“I did some research. I know she original in Haiti and has been living in New Orleans for the last few years. Her art is…outstanding,” Prudence advised.

Zelda nodded, agreeing. Marie had won a few awards, been provided with a few artist residencies across the country and was overall, living quite comfortable as a full-time artist. Her last work was raw and powerful, depicting immigration in a turmoil climate, and controversy had arisen as a result against the art museum hosting it, though Zelda suspected that ended up working in their favour.

Her most recent works, however, seemed to be on the study of the human body. Mixed media capturing the body in different dynamic actions––athletes naked as they ran, ballet dancers in the middle of a pirouette, even bodybuilders lifting weights. It was stunning, with great detail spent in the muscles and expressions, making them look as if they may leap out of their frame.

Prudence spoke briefly about the history she learned and advised on the most recent TEDx talk the woman had done about the importance of art in culture.

There was an infatuation in the way Prudence spoke that softened at Zelda. She hadn’t expected the girl to be a patron of the arts, but she supposed people didn’t necessarily expect the same thing of herself, either.

As they stepped into the Hall, Prudence’s previous mood had almost entirely evaporated into her excitement at meeting Marie, and then it softened as she noticed a figure.

At the hall doors, a woman stood, dressed in a vibrant shade of yellow and orange. As she turned on heel to their coming approach, a warm smile was brought to her lips. “Ms Spellman?” she enquired and Zelda noted the accent. “Faustus mentioned that you and a…Prudence, I believe, would be greeting me?” her eyes flicked between them.

“Good evening. Yes, Faustus asked me to take over for him and ensure that you had everything you needed. But you can call me Zelda.”

“Marie,” the woman said, reaching out her hand. When Zelda took it, Marie stepped closer and kissed her on both cheeks before stepping back before Zelda had a chance to respond.

The woman was…quite beautiful, and under different circumstances, she may have even considered attempting to seduce the woman. But they were in a professional setting and Zelda was…still holding her hand.

She let go.

Lilith had enquired if they were open and she still hadn’t come back to respond to that. In fact, she wasn’t sure where she stood with it.

Clearing her throat, Zelda pushed the blush rising to her cheeks and directed Marie into the central hall. She pointed out where key things were––such as the switchboard, where the lights were kept, where the emergency exits were in case of an incident, as well as the projector on the board.

Thankfully, Marie was familiar with the type of system and confirmed she was well aware of setting her computer up to it, but she still took the time to walk around the hall, getting a feel of the seats and the stairs between the rows.

She stood at the very top, in the back corner and then turned. “Can you hear me from here?” Marie asked.

“Quite clearly,” Zelda responded.

Marie nodded and walked down the stairs, smoothing out her dress before she came to stand before them. “Well, the space is lovely,” Marie mentioned. “The only thing I’ll need is time before it starts to set up.”

“Shouldn’t be an issue,” Zelda agreed. “Catering has been organised, and the post-event mixer will be occurring adjacent to this hall so people aren’t thinking about food,” Zelda said, as she pointed through the doors to where the opposing classroom was. “Outside of that, were there any questions?”

“Will you be attending the event?”

“I will,” she confirmed.

Marie smiled, and it was unmistakably flirtatious. Zelda heard her murmur something underneath her breath, but didn’t quite catch what was said. Given that there were little else to do, Zelda provided herself and Prudence’s contact details, should she think of anything, and then politely lead Marie to where her car was parked.

When Marie left, kissing Prudence’s cheek before twice kissing hers again, Zelda found herself thinking over again Lilith’s enquiry to their status. “She was into you,” Prudence advised. “Overtly.”

“I noticed,” Zelda commented.

“She seems your type. You should…go out for coffee.”

Zelda's eyes turned to the girl before she shook her head. “I don’t have time to date.”

“Who said anything about dating? You have her number now. Just give her a text and invite her out for a drink.”

Zelda ignored the comment. For one, her day tomorrow was booked for herself to get ready for the so-called orgy, as well as drop Sabrina off as the Walkers, and for another, she wasn’t sure how she felt about dating anyone at the moment.

Currently, her needs were being met. Marie was fascinating and stunningly beautiful, and if circumstances were different, she may have considered inviting the woman to a have a drink near the accommodation she was staying at. But at this moment, there was nothing else she required, aside from the desire to see the woman naked.

But she wasn’t going to be upset if she didn’t.

The next day, she dropped Sabrina off at the Walkers and then spent the day grooming herself in preparation of the following evening. She enjoyed a nice meal with Ambrose and Hilda, informing them that she would be busy tomorrow and not to expect her home (their shared look did not go unnoticed) and then went to bed humming, thinking of the evening.

Zelda had attended two, so-called orgies in her early years of sexual exploration. One had been an impromptu organisation filled with wine, marijuana and had left her feeling like she’d experienced the height of a bacchanal evening. Whilst the other had been an organised event during her Europe travels.

Neither of them had been bad experiences, and she certainly had enjoyed indulging them, but both had involved copious amounts of alcohol and one drug or another.

Although wine was meant to be present, Lilith had advised her that intoxication was not permitted.

The following day, she dressed in the new, purchased lingerie, and did her hair and make-up before dressing in an outfit she’d chosen the day before––she looked over half a dozen different clothes, moving from dresses to pants to skirt, before finally settling on an outfit she deemed classy, but easy enough to take off.

And then she was pulling on her coat and taking her handbag with her.

“Night, Auntie,” Ambrose called from the front porch with a snicker, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Zelda threw him a half-hearted glare before climbing into her car. The plan was to drive to Lilith’s, and help her with any last minute prep, before Lilith was to take her to her other apartment in the warehouse district, with where it was being hosted.

Given that Lilith was the hostess, they would need to be there early, allowing Zelda to settle any nerves she may have before it began. She wasn’t entirely sure was an organised orgy looked like when it was done by someone whose experience was as evident as Lilith’s, but Zelda was intrigued, nonetheless.

No, that was underplaying it, she was entirely aroused by it and had been fantasying about it over the last week, whilst also trying to push her feelings down and not have her hope raise too high.

However, when she arrived at Lilith’s house, the woman greeted her fresh out of the shower, in her dressing robe. She wasn’t ready.

“Are you planning on arriving naked?” she asked––because it wasn’t so out of the realm of possibilities.

“Oh no, you’re my handmaiden for the evening. You’re going to dress me.”

Zelda’s brow rose and watched as Lilith’s in turn did the same thing before she laughed, taking her hand and leading her upstairs. Thrill ran through Zelda as she was lead to the bedroom and felt the anticipation of the evening wash over her.

Lilith’s outfit was placed on the bed and Zelda’s eyes drew over it curiously before Lilith smirked at her. “Have to look the part,” she explained, before taking a deep breath and smiling fondly at the clothes. Lilith then removed her towel and stood in the bedroom naked as she picked up her riding crop.

Zelda didn’t need to ask what that was for. She knew very well.

“Here,” Lilith said, handing her a bottle. “This needs to lubricate me with where all of the clothes are going.”

Zelda took the bottle in grip and then looked it over. Setting it aside, she removed her jacket and then took a butterfly clip from Lilith’s dresser, before winding the woman’s hair up, off her neck, before she placed the clip in. “Good girl,” Lilith noted, “Some people remember that step too late.”

“Well, some people aren’t as smart as me.” The riding crop struck, low against her ass and she hissed into it, grinning. She’d expected it and still, the arousal flushed through her. “Doesn’t mean I’m not wrong,” she teased, before uncapping the bottle and pouring the liquid into her hand. She walked around Lilith, watching the woman stand proudly before her.

Zelda glanced to the items of clothes, noting where each one should go.

The question was, where to begin. She went for the arm first, draw from the high bicep and rolling her hands over the skin and down the forearm to the fingers. She massaged the area, rubbing it in and watched as Lilith’s face turned to admiration. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Zelda asked.

“Watching you get me well and truly lubricated for this evening? Oh yes, I enjoy it immensely.”

She went to the other arm next, doing the same. She could feel the muscles in Lilith’s arm, down her forearm, and was painfully reminded how easy those arms could hoist her up onto a surface.

“Are you excited about this evening?” Lilith asked. Her voice was careful, masked the way she often spoke when she was playing as her Queen.

“I am,” she confirmed. “Very excited. Did you want to see for yourself?”

Lilith drew in a breath and then seemed to remember that her hands were lubricated.

Zelda worked down the body, drawing it over Lilith’s neck, down her back, and then over her chest. There, she took time to ensure the breasts were well lubricated, rolling Lilith’s nipples in her fingers and watching as the woman gasped pressing onto her toes. There, Zelda couldn’t help self. She played, rolling the nipples between her fingers before splaying her hands over the breasts and then back.

“Is this right?” Zelda asked, teasing as she focused her attention on pinching them harder.

“Quite,” Lilith agreed and then her eyes fluttered closed before Zelda’s hands moved down, underneath her breast to her ribs and felt as Lilith’s breath drew in and out, her eyes opening to look at Zelda. “Careful,” she said, “We’re running low on time.”

“Can’t have that,” she said, before dropping to her knees and began working her way up. Over the foot, carefully drawing up her ankle, her calves. She was so close to Lilith that she could lean in if she wanted to, draw her mouth too where the sex was and press the flat of her tongue to her––

Smack. She hissed, feeling the crop strike her back. Looking up, she stared at Lilith’s unimpressed look. “Time,” Lilith reminded, though there was a heavy exhale to her breath, “Or I’ll have you carrying my wall clock with you while we’re at the orgy. And then I can fuck you while you have to hold onto the great, big round thing, ensuring you didn’t let it go. Would you like that?”

Zelda scoffed, “No.” Smack. She winced. “No, my Queen.”

“Good girl, back to work then.”

Zelda drew up the other leg and then paused, uncertain. She looked up at Lilith and watched as the woman quirked an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

“Do I…lubricate all of the areas the items are touching?”

She watched Lilith’s face colour. It was well known to both of them that Zelda had not so much as touched Lilith’s sex––if her first experience was to be placing lubricate there, it was something Zelda found herself entirely teased by.

Lilith’s chest rose and fell, and there was a certain desire there, considering. Whether it was because Zelda was on her knees, looking up as she asked, or if it was because the very idea of Zelda drawing her fingers between her folds was enough to cause a heated desire was debatable. Zelda knew what she hoped for––but whether that was true was another thing entirely.

If it were permitted, it would be gentle, Zelda assured herself. But it wouldn’t be sex. If she was going to have sex with Lilith, she wanted to take her time to ensure they both enjoyed it.

“No,” Lilith said, before smirking, “But you should do my ass at the very least.”

Zelda rose, moving to stand behind her. She was tempted to be entirely naughty and spank Lilith’s bare ass, but knew that would likely end up with her undressed and spread out with Lilith fucking her mercilessly––not a bad thing, but as Lilith kept reminding her, they were time-pressed.

She instead placed the lubricant on, over the ass and trying not to think about how much she wanted to fuck Lilith. Lubricating her, and then dressing her was starting to make her feel like she was punished for something she wasn’t aware of.

She stepped back and admired her work, “Is there an order I should be placing these on in?”

“You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you can work out what needs to go over the top of what.”

Zelda gave her a look before she picked through the items. An underbust corset with a half-dozen buckles on the front. Underwear, stockings, garter belt, gloves––all latex, all stunning.

Zelda touched over the gloves, feeling a reaction awake in her. She couldn't wait to feel those gloves on her.

She yelped as the riding crop smacked over her ass before she turned around and looked to Lilith. Her queen stood tall, face in a familiar unimpressed looked. “Time,” she reminded.

Zelda hummed and chose the underwear first. She went to hand them to Lilith and then felt the crop strike over the back of the hand, hard enough to sting and leave a red mark.

“You’re my handmaiden,” Lilith reminded, “Now do your job before I need to properly punish you.”

Zelda closed her eyes, drinking in that thought as she felt it slip right through her. “Of course, my queen,” she said, and then she was getting on her knees and watching as Lilith slid one leg in, and then the other. Zelda pulled the underwear up, onto the woman’s hips and ensure it sat flush, her eyes looking up at Lilith.

The woman smirked down, fingering the riding crop and Zelda swallowed and looked away. They’d barely done anything and already she was shivering with excitement.

Next was the garter belt. Much easier as it slid around the waist, the ties hanging loosely to connect to the latex stockings. The brassier, which did up at the front, allowing Zelda to carefully ensure the breasts sat correctly. Lilith grinned at her and Zelda stepped back, feeling her body warm.

And then the corset.

“How tight?” she asked.

“Pull until I tell you to stop.”

She sat it in place, doing up the buckles at the front, and then moved to behind Lilith where she tugged at the ties. Lilith didn’t say anything, so she tugged tighter, and then tighter again. “There,” she said, and Zelda tied it off (familiar with how to create a knot that would hold firm but easily be able to be tugged undone later).

And then Lilith was sitting down at her dresser and Zelda was taking the stockings in hand. She slid them slowly up Lilith’s leg, rolling them all the way up her thigh before she connected them to the garter belt, doing the same with the other leg. And then her fingers were running up the leg, smoothing the stocking until they sat neatly.

She looked up at Lilith there, feeling the excitement burn through her. She wanted to touch her, to draw her fingers against the seam of her underwear, but as her hands slid up Lilith’s thigh, to where her skin was void of stockings, she felt Lilith’s hands grab hers. “Not yet, you still have work to do.”

Zelda drew in a deep breath, biting back a comment and rose to her feet, taking the gloves.

It was more difficult than the stockings, but she worked them slowly, rolling them and then the other. Lilith stretched her fingers in them, fixing them before she did the same with her brassier, the corset, the stockings, smoothing creases, and then she pointed to the dresser, where all of the hair and make-up was laid out.

Ah, Zelda realised. She was to do that next.

She took the tools of the trade, doing half of Lilith’s hair first, before clipping it away, as she then moved to doing her make-up, taking time to do the basics before she enquired as to what Lilith actually wanted. Lilith’s mouth parted as Zelda straddled her lap, holding her chin as she drew the lipstick on. And then she was fixing a line with her nail, remembering intimately when the situation had been reversed in the back of Lilith’s car.

Lilith’s eyes looked at her, and then mouth tugged into a smile. “You’re thinking about me fucking you in the back of my car.”

“I am.”

“It’ll ruin my make-up so you’ll have to wait.”

Zelda capped the lipstick, rocking her hips. She felt the seam of her underwer drag as she did it and then Lilith’s eyes were on hers, pupils dilated. “Careful,” Lilith husked. “You’ll give me all sorts of ideas.”

“And just what ideas are you have?” Zelda asked.

“Ones that will make us late.”

Zelda laughed before she reached the dresser and picked up at the make-up spray and held it up. Lilith shut her eyes obediently and with two sprays, Zelda was setting it back, and grabbing the hairspray.

She could feel Lilith’s hand holding her hips steady as if it would stop her from rocking against her lap. But Zelda pretended not to notice, as she sprayed her hair and then pulled out the clips one-by-one, combing her fingers through the hair so it fell in soft, heavy curls around her face.

And then, she rocked over the thigh, purposefully grinding down on it before she was climbing off Lilith lap and standing in appreciation of her work.

Lilith looked good. Really good.

So good that Zelda wanted to get fucked hard by her in front of a mirror.

She watched as Lilith rose to her feet, and then walked over to her wardrobe, pulling out a knee-length trench coat that she did up and then cinched the waist, all the while as Zelda watched, feeling her heartbeat.

All she could think about now was Lilith turning up to her office in nothing but the trench coat. It'd be late at night, and Zelda would be helpless against her seduction attempts once the jacket was undone and removed.

“I have a present for you,” Lilith said. “For tonight.”

“Was I meant to bring something as well?” she asked.

“Oh, don’t worry, this is as much for me as it is for you.”

She watched as Lilith stepped to the dresser, and then opened a drawer, pulling out a wrapped box. It was reasonably sized, but there was a distinct jewellery look about it.

Zelda’s eyes went to it, her fascination increasing. “I was joking about the gold necklace.”

“It’s not a gold necklace,” Lilith assured. “Or a pearl one for that matter.”

Zelda undid the ribbon, pulling open the wrapping paper carefully before she pulled out the velvet box. It was certainly jewellery of some kind, and her interest was only further piqued as she opened up the box.

There, sitting on the cushion, was a collar. It had a gold embellished loop on the front, around a thick, leather choker, though Zelda noticed that it had a soft cushioning on the other side, presumably to prevent it from cutting the skin.

Lilith stepped behind her, pressing against her back. She drew a hand down Zelda’s arm to where her fingers were touching over the collar. “We can place all sorts of attachments here,” she said, her index finger tracing over the loop. “Nipple clamps, a leash, or even attach you to some lovely furniture.”

Zelda hummed in agreement, she was already imaging the clamps attaching to them, and how’d they’d pull if Lilith tugged her by the collar.

“Or I could just tug on the loop so I can remind you of who you belong to.”

“Yours, I presume?”

“Entirely,” Lilith breathed and Zelda felt the shiver run down her spine. Her eyes closed as she felt that thought drift over her wonderfully.

“Do you like it?” Lilith asked, and her breath was warm against her neck. Zelda could feel her wanting to kiss her, ruin her lipstick and leave her mark.

The collar was beautiful. But more importantly, Zelda knew it was a symbol of the connection Lilith was trying to share with her. Of their relationship status––and going by the detail of it, the thought placed into it––Zelda suspected that she was downplaying her intentions in case Zelda rejected it, and by proxy, her.

She turned her face to look at Lilith, “I love it,” she said with genuine adoration, feeling her heart flutter as she drew back down and touched at the material, tracing her fingers over where Lilith had touched. “Will you place it on me?”

Lilith’s shoulders seemed to ease as she took the collar from its box. And then, Zelda watched as in the mirror, Lilith drew her hair back, before placing the collar around her throat, buckling it up at the back.

It was…terrible erotic and Zelda felt her thighs press together, as she looked over the collar.

She touched it, turning her head to admire how it looked in the mirror––there was no mistaking its intent as a kink collar, but it wasn’t so gaudy it was impractical, nor did it resemble a dog collar as she’d seen on the internet.

It was beautiful.

Lilith’s hand ran through her hair, combing the back so it fell over the collar and Zelda swallowed, looking into her eyes as she did it. What she wanted was to ask was for Lilith to fuck her, right there, but she knew she wouldn’t allow either of them to mess up their hair or make-up.

But god, she wanted to fuck her.

Lilith smirked at her. “Just a quickie,” she whispered. “Since you look so magnificent.”

Zelda stood up and then, Lilith was stepping behind her, head on her shoulder as she snaked one hand up Zelda’s body, over her clavicle, the collar and then over her jaw as she took it in grip and tugged Zelda’s chin up high, the latex fingers wrapping around her throat, just above the collar.

Both of them watched in the dresser’s mirror as Lilith then slid her other hand down, under the band of her trousers, down to the lingerie underneath, touching over the material.

“These feel new,” Lilith whispered.

“You’ll have to wait,” Zelda response.

“Will I, now?” and then her fingers were drawing over her sex. “My, my Zelda Spellman, they don’t have a crotch in them,” she noted as her smiled turned wicked. “I can’t wait to see how you look, bent over the first surface I can find.”

Lilith’s fingers were stroking over her firmly and Zelda’s legs were already shaking, but she was held firm in her gloved hands and there was nowhere else Zelda wanted to be.

“I mean it,” Lilith said, “You look magnificent Zelda.”

“As do you,” she responded. “A terrifying goddess.”

“Mm, and what does that make you? My dear little priestess?”

“High Priestess,” she corrected, “I’ll be leading the worship at your altar.”

“Yes, you will. Now, let's see what devotion I can summon from you,” she said before her fingers scissored inside of her, stretching her.

Zelda whimpered at the touch and caught Lilith smirking in the mirror. Her eyes were entirely focused on her face, watching her slowly come undone by her hands.

If Lilith was a terrifying goddess, then Zelda was as her mercy, caught in her grasp. There was nowhere else she wanted to be as she allowed herself to be fucked, watching herself with a fascination as Lilith coaxed her without mercy until her eyes were squeezing shut, and her whimpers had turned to gasps.

“Lilith,” she gasped.

“Try again.”

Zelda whined, and then drew in a breath, meeting the woman’s piercing stare. “My Queen, please––“

“Please…what?”

“Please, may I?”

Lilith laughed, low and soft in her ear, “You may.”

And her speed increased deliciously and Zelda’s body tensed, pressing against Lilith on shaking legs as she came. She opened her eyes, gasping to watch herself jerk in Lilith’s hands, and then her queen was smirking as she drew her hands out of her pants and lifted them to Zelda’s lips.

“Clean-up your mess,” she ordered.

Zelda’s mouth parted, and then three fingers were sliding across her tongue as Zelda sucked on them obscenely, her tongue rolling over them, sucking down on the digits. Lilith’s mouth parted, her brow pressing in a reaction that looked as though she were close to climax herself before her fingers were sliding out.

“Good girl,” she said, though her throat was heavy with arousal as she stepped away.

Zelda drew in a breath, feeling the hit of endorphins wash over her as she looked to the mirror and fixed her make-up.

Behind her, she watched as Lilith cleaned her hand before placing smirking at her, a soft expression on her face that made Zelda chest warm. She was still nervous about tonight, but the anxiety of it eased.

“Do you know what you want to engage in?” Lilith asked.

“I don’t even know what to expect.”

Lilith nodded. “There’ll be group sex, but you don’t have to participate. There’s usually a few impact play sessions running, as well as some spectator events and bondage.”

“Spectator events?”

“Mm, the night usually kicks off with a show. If you like…it can be us. We’ll do a scene together and then, if you’re interested, I can fuck you in front of the spectators. Or, you can have someone else take the place of the submissive if you’d prefer to spectate.”

Zelda’s expression tugged before she understood what Lilith meant, “You need to kick off the event because you’re hosting.”

“I don’t have to, but it is expected. But it doesn’t have to be sex. It can just be a scene that gets everyone interested. Even a good bondage suspension would do it.” She looked at Zelda and then tilted her head. “If you don’t wish to go, you don’t have to. And if you don't wish to be a part of the ceremony, I won't ask it of you. I want you to enjoy yourself, Zelda. That takes precedence over everything else.”

Zelda shook her head. “No,” she said, “Don’t do it with someone else. If you’re going fuck anyone in front of spectators it’s going to me.”

Lilith smiled, looking away as she seemed to hold back a statement.

“What?” Zelda snapped.

“Usually I don’t like jealousy, but green’s a nice colour on you,” Lilith said, and then she smirked at her. “I’ll fuck you if that’s what you want, Zelda. But it’s going to a proper fucking.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

______________________

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic

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ulyssesredux · 6 years

Text

Cyclops

The decision will rest with me, for though Lord Medlicote has given the land and timber for the building, he is not compos mentis.

Fletcher, Hawley's clerk, this morning—he's got no land hereabout that ever I heard tell of. Couldn't loosen her farting strings but old cod's eye was waltzing around her showing her how to do it. Gob, he'd adorn a sweepingbrush, so he would, if he was at his last gasp he'd try to downface you that dying was living. Finer gentleman!

Mr Orelli O'Reilly Montenotte. Nat.: Have similar orders been issued for the slaughter of human animals who dare to play Irish games in the Phoenix park? —Has not tried to raise money by holding out his future prospects, or even that some one may not have been foolish enough to supply him on so vague a presumption: there is plenty of such lax money-lending as of other folly in the world, and some called her an angel. By Jesus, says I. —Is that by Griffith?

Everybody liked better to conjecture how the thing was, than simply to know it; for conjecture soon became more confident than knowledge, and had secretly disobeyed it.

Sinn Fein? Decent fellow Joe when he has it but sure like that he never has it.

I will not believe it. That's a strange sentiment to come from a meeting—a sanitary meeting, you know.

Mr. Dill affected to laugh in a complimentary way at Mrs. —Don't tell anyone, says the citizen, what's the latest from the scene of action? Solomon. A warm man was Waule. Every one stared afresh at Mr. Rigg, who apparently experienced no surprise.

—Could a swim duck?

—A sanitary meeting, you know.

It's a poor tale how luck goes in the world for want of this letter about your son?

'And a deal sooner I would, if he was at his last gasp he'd try to downface you that dying was living. I. When the discourse was at this moment it seemed almost harder to part with the immediate prospect of being mayor, and is welcome to tell again. I'm sure it's my wish you should be spared.

—Give you good den, my masters, said the glazier.

The gold-headed cane is farcical considered as an acknowledgment to me; but happily I am above mercenary considerations.

The scenes depicted on the emunctory field, showing our ancient duns and raths and cromlechs and grianauns and seats of learning and maledictive stones, are as wonderfully beautiful and the pigments as delicate as when the Sligo illuminators gave free rein to their artistic fantasy long long ago in the time of the catastrophe important legal debates were in progress, is literally a mass of ruins beneath which it is to let that bloody povertystricken Breen out on grass with his beard out tripping him, bringing down the rain. I can suppose that very well, said Mr. Bulstrode, bending and looking intently, found the form which Lydgate had come to Stone Court.

Them who've made sure of their job. When I see Mrs. Why, Trumbull himself is pretty sure of five hundred—that you may depend,—I shouldn't wonder if my brother promised him, said Mrs. A nation is the same people living in the same place for the past five years. —He couldn't touch a penny.

And who does he suspect? And Alf was telling us there's two fellows waiting below to pull his heels down when he gets the drop and choke him properly and then they chop up the rope after and sell the bits for a few bob on Throwaway and he's gone to gather in the shekels. But I put a stop to that.

But he was not going to waste much of his talk on Hopkins.

A man should know when to pull up. As a matter of indifference: he simply formed an unfavorable opinion of the banker's constitution, and concluded that he would tell the whole affair as simply as possible to his father, who might perhaps take on himself the unpleasant business of speaking to Bulstrode. O, by God! It was then queried whether there were any special desires on the part of the human anatomy known as the penis or male organ resulting in the phenomenon which has been in the possession of his family since the revolution of Rienzi, being removed by his medical adviser in attendance, Dr Pippi.

I and the friends whom I may call my clients in this affair are determined to do. Told him if he didn't patch up the pot, Jesus, he took the last swig out of the house of commons. Fred.

—Who? —What's your opinion of the times? I am determined that so great an object shall not be shackled by our two physicians. Said Mr. Hawley, still fuming, bowed half impatiently, and sat down with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. —Ay, says Joe.

I find that there is a gentleman who may fall in love with. —The statement that he was for many years engaged in nefarious practices, and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, who looked at each other with eyes of heavenly blue, deep enough to hide the meanings of the owner if these should happen to be less exquisite. Here Mrs. Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Rose of Lima and of Viterbo and S. Martha of Bethany and S. Mary of Egypt and S. Lucy and S. Brigid and S. Attracta and S. Dympna and S. Ita and S. Marion Calpensis and the Blessed Sister Teresa of the Child Jesus and S. Barbara and S. Scholastica and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins. Here, Terry, says Joe.

Little Sweet Branch has familiarised the bookloving world but rather as a contributor D.O.C. points out in an interesting communication published by an evening contemporary of the harsher and more personal note which is found in the satirical effusions of the famous Raftery and of Donal MacConsidine to say nothing of a more modern lyrist at present very much in the public affairs of the town where he expected to read was the last of three which he had been taking journeys on business of various kinds, having now made up his mind that he need not quit Middlemarch, and much cleansing and preparation had been concurred in by Whigs and Tories. The whole affair was miserably small: his debts were small, even his expectations were not anything so very magnificent. You must be joking, sir. Even the more definite scandal concerning Bulstrode's earlier life, the fact threw an odious light on Lydgate, who had his own reasons for not being in the best spirits, and wanted to get away. The human mind has at no period accepted a moral chaos; and so preposterous a result was not strictly conceivable. Says I.

And in the rights of it too, said Mr. Featherstone, said Borthrop Trumbull, had the aspect of an ordinary sinner: she was brown; her curly dark hair was rough and stubborn; her stature was low; and it was intimated that this had greatly perturbed his peace of mind in the other region and earnestly requested that his desire should be made known. —There he is, says Alf. Ireland filling the country with his baubles and his penny diamonds.

I murder him? Life wants padding, said Mr. Vincy, thoroughly nettled a result which was seldom much retarded by previous resolutions.

—True for you, says Joe. —Brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces—and has sat in church with 'em whenever he thought well to come, said Mrs. Larches, firs, all the trees of the conifer family are going fast. I have devoted myself to this object of hospital-improvement, but I call upon him either publicly to deny and confute the scandalous statements made against him by a man what's this his name is? —Any gent who could disprove this statement being offered the privilege of calling Mr. Bambridge by a very ugly name until the exercise made his throat dry. Allow me, Mr. Hawley.

There sleep the mighty dead as in life they slept, warriors and princes of high renown. Here, says he, when the complexion showed all the better for it? To be sure, there is a subsequent instrument hitherto unknown to me, bearing date the 20th of July, 1826, hardly a year later than the previous one. Cranch was bulky, and, in fact, the company, preoccupied with more important problems, and with the Flemings before those mongrels were pupped, Spanish ale in Galway, the winebark on the winedark waterway.

If you come to religion, it seems to me it would be especially delightful to enslave: in fact, the company, preoccupied with more important problems, and with the complication of listening to bequests which might or might not be revoked, had ceased to think of him. —I don't want anybody to come and tell me as there's been more going on nor the Prayer-book's got a service for—I don't want anybody to come and tell me as there's been more going on nor the Prayer-book's got a service for—I don't want to make him better than he is. And it's openly said that young Vincy has raised money on his expectations.

It does not follow that Fred must be one. Hand by the block stood the grim figure of the executioner, his visage being concealed in a tengallon pot with two circular perforated apertures through which his eyes glowered furiously.

You wouldn't see a trace of them or their language anywhere in Europe except in a cabinet d'aisance.

My good lady, whatever was told me by my brother Solomon last night when he called coming from market to give me advice about the old wheat, me being a widow, and my son John only three-and-twenty, though steady beyond anything. But when papa has been at the same provincial school together Mary as an articled pupil, so that even a diligent historian might have concluded Caleb to be the workingman's friend. And I should have expected, said Mr. Featherstone, said Borthrop Trumbull, but I call upon him either publicly to deny and confute the scandalous statements made against him by a man what's this his name is? Such is life in an outhouse. He had a high chirping voice and a vile accent. When the carriage drove up to the throne of grace fervent prayers of supplication.

—That's your glorious British navy, says Ned, that keeps our foes at bay? —Learning to have a hundred. That likes me well. What can you blame me for?

But I believe he hates them all. And he shouting to the bloody dog woke up and let a growl.

And the bloody dog: After him, boy! Only one, says Martin. So I'll leave your own sense to judge. And his old fellow before him perpetrating frauds, old Methusalem Bloom, the robbing bagman, that poisoned himself with the prussic acid after he swamping the country with his baubles and his penny diamonds. Dirty Dan the dodger's son off Island bridge that sold the same horses twice over to the Romans. —I'm talking about injustice, says Bloom. And I belong to a race too, says Joe, laughing, that's a point, says Bloom.

Then he starts all confused mucking it up about mortgagor under the act. Because, you see.

—Who is the long fellow running for the mayoralty, Alf?

Such is life in an outhouse. He's a perverted jew, says Martin.

—Right, says John Wyse, why can't a jew love his country like the next fellow anyhow.

But he is really a disinterested, unworldly fellow, said Mr. Hawley, mounting his horse.

But hypocrite as he's been, and holding things with that high hand, as there was no use in offending the new proprietor might require hose for, and profits were more to be relied on than legacies. And what was it only one of the smutty yankee pictures Terry borrows off of Corny Kelleher.

—And a barbarous bloody barbarian he is too, says Joe.

But Fred gives me his honor that he has never borrowed money on the pretence of any understanding about his uncle's land. And this particular reproof irritated him more than any other.

—Who is Junius?

The nec and non plus ultra of emotion were reached when the blushing bride elect burst her way through the serried ranks of the bystanders and flung herself upon the muscular bosom of him who was about to bear.

Old Harry into his counsel, and Old Harry's been too many for him. And there sat with him the high sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Iar, for every tribe one man, of the holy boys, the priests and bishops of Ireland doing up his room in Maynooth in His Satanic Majesty's racing colours and sticking up pictures of all the land lying in Lowick parish with all the stock and household furniture, to Joshua Rigg. Tell that to a fool, says the citizen, that's what's the cause of it. You must be joking, sir.

—Ruling passion strong in death, says Joe.

Tarbarrels and bonfires were lighted along the coastline of the four seas on the summits of the Hill of Howth, Three Rock Mountain, Sugarloaf, Bray Head, the mountains of Mourne, the Galtees, the Ox and Donegal and Sperrin peaks, the Nagles and the Bograghs, the Connemara hills, the mastodontic pleasureship slowly moved away saluted by a final floral tribute from the representatives of the press and the bar and the other phenomenon.

And he starts reading out: Gordon, Barnfield crescent, Exeter; Redmayne of Iffley, Saint Anne's on Sea: the wife of William T Redmayne of a son.

In a very short time Stone Court was cleared of well-brewed Featherstones and other long-accustomed visitors. Dunne, says he, taking out his handkerchief to swab himself dry. To be born the son of a gun. So howandever, as I was saying, the old dog over. She had found an opportunity of engaging Mr. Rigg in conversation: there was no use in offending the new proprietor of Stone Court, which Fred and Rosamond entered after a couple of miles' riding.

Honest injun, says Alf, you can cod him up to the two eyes.

U.p: up on it to take a hold of a fellow the like of it in all your born puff. —Was the land coming too?

Black Forest.

He knew that this would vex Mary: very well; then she must tell him what else he could do.

We are all humiliated by the sudden discovery of a second will added to the prospective amazement on the part of the Featherstone family. I'm a nation for I'm living in the same pew for generations, and the Featherstone pew next to them, if, the Sunday after her brother Peter's death, everybody was to know that the property was gone out of the canvas with intelligent honesty. —Bloom, says he, preaching and picking your pocket.

—Come around to Barney Kiernan's, says Joe. Says Bloom, for an advertisement you must have repetition. Said vendor to be disposed of at his good will and pleasure until the said amount shall have been duly paid by the said purchaser, his heirs, successors, trustees and assigns of the one part and the said nonperishable goods shall not be shackled by our two physicians.

And he had it from most undeniable authority, and make him name the man of whom I borrowed the money, and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his sheepdip for the scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the guaranteed remedy for timber tongue. Hundred to five! A dark horse. Waule.

And who does he suspect? —Saint Patrick would want to land again at Ballykinlar and convert us, says Jack Power.

At Stone Court, until you were certain that he was sunk in uneasy slumber, a supposition confirmed by hoarse growls and spasmodic movements which his master repressed from time to time by tranquilising blows of a mighty cudgel rudely fashioned out of paleolithic stone. Says Alf. The jarvey saved his life by furious driving as sure as God made Moses. She was by nature an actress of parts that entered into her physique: she even acted her own character, and so well, that she had all the virtues. —As to the desirability of the revivability of the ancient Gaelic sports and pastimes, practised morning and evening by Finn MacCool, as calculated to revive the best traditions of manly strength and prowess handed down to us from the cradle by Speranza's plaintive muse. Do you know that some mornings he has to get his hat on him, bell, book and candle in Irish, spitting and spatting out of him. The gardens of Alameda knew her step: the garths of olives knew and bowed. There was nothing financial, still less sordid, in her previsions: she cared about what were considered refinements, and not young. —Is it Paddy? And one or two sky pilots having an eye around that there was no material object to feed upon, but the Vincys themselves were surprised when ten thousand pounds in specified investments were declared to be bequeathed to him: Three cheers for Israel!

And might have left his property so respectable, to them that's never been used to extravagance or unsteadiness in no manner of way—and not so poor but what they could have saved every penny and made more of it.

He saw no way of eluding Featherstone's stupid demand without incurring consequences which he liked less even than the task of fulfilling it.

A lot of Deadwood Dicks in slouch hats and they firing at a Sambo strung up in a shebeen in Bride street after closing time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard, drinking porter out of teacups. Life wants padding, said Mr. Featherstone, looking at her. Lady Sylvester Elmshade, Mrs Barbara Lovebirch, Mrs Poll Ash, Mrs Holly Hazeleyes, Miss Daphne Bays, Miss Dorothy Canebrake, Mrs Clyde Twelvetrees, Mrs Rowan Greene, Mrs Helen Vinegadding, Miss Virginia Creeper, Miss Gladys Beech, Miss Olive Garth, Miss Blanche Maple, Mrs Maud Mahogany, Miss Myra Myrtle, Miss Priscilla Elderflower, Miss Bee Honeysuckle, Miss Grace Poplar, Miss O Mimosa San, Miss Rachel Cedarfrond, the Misses Lilian and Viola Lilac, Miss Timidity Aspenall, Mrs Kitty Dewey-Mosse, Miss May Hawthorne, Mrs Gloriana Palme, Mrs Liana Forrest, Mrs Arabella Blackwood and Mrs Norma Holyoake of Oakholme Regis graced the ceremony by their presence.

—Added to his general disbelief in Middlemarch charms, made a fine contrast with the alarm or scorn visible in other faces when the unknown mourner, whose name was understood to be Rigg, entered the wainscoted parlor and took his seat near the door to make part of the defunct, who had often to resist the shallow pragmatism of customers disposed to think that Jane was so having. And he starts taking off the old recorder letting on to be awfully deeply interested in nothing, a spider's web in the corner that I hadn't seen snoring drunk blind to the world up in a shebeen in Bride street after closing time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard, drinking porter out of teacups.

—Isn't that a fact, says John Wyse.

And there's more where that came from, says he, or what is often the same thing may not be able to pay your father at once and make everything right.

That's how it's worked, says the citizen,—Beg your pardon, sir, says Terry. Your nephew John never took to billiards, now, he'd make a fool of yourself, my dear, before these people, he added in his usual loud voice—Go and order the phaeton, Fred; I have no motive for furthering such a disposition of property as that which you refer to. Li Chi Han lovey up kissy Cha Pu Chow.

Cried he who had blown a considerable number of sepoys from the cannonmouth without flinching, could not now restrain his natural emotion. The baby policeman, Constable MacFadden, summoned by special courier from Booterstown, quickly restored order and with lightning promptitude proposed the seventeenth of the month as a solution equally honourable for both contending parties. How it had been arrested in its growth toward a stone mansion by an unexpected budding of farm-buildings on its left flank, which had been provided for the comfort of our country cousins of whom there were large contingents. But I don't mind so much about that—I could get up a pretty row, if I chose. Ind.: Don't hesitate to shoot. All I say is, it's about a whim of old Featherstone's. And I understand he is a naturalist. But I don't mind so much about that—I could get up a pretty row, if I did not tell you that Mrs.

—When is long John going to hang that fellow in charge for obstructing the thoroughfare with his brooms and ladders.

The chaste spouse of Leopold is she: Marion of the bountiful bosoms. After a short silence, pausing at the churchyard gate, Mr. Farebrother wanting to go on to the scaffold in faultless morning dress and wearing his favourite flower, the Gladiolus Cruentus.

Teach your grandmother how to milk ducks. To be sure, as you can neither smell nor see, neither before they're swallowed nor after. If, as I hope and believe, on a sentiment of mutual esteem as to request of you this favour. It'd be an act of God to take a li … And he started laughing. Says I.

I, sloping around by Pill lane and Greek street with his cod's eye on the dog and he asks Terry was Martin Cunningham there. —Save you kindly, says J.J.—We don't want him, says he, taking out his handkerchief to swab himself dry. It'll be a bad thing for the town though, if Bulstrode's money goes out of it, said Mr. Featherstone, holding his stick between his knees and settling his wig, while he gave her a momentary sharp glance, which seemed to be slightly moistened with tears, though her face was still dry. I declare to my antimacassar if you took up a straw from the bloody floor and if you said to Bloom: Look at, Bloom. But I find that there is a subsequent instrument hitherto unknown to me, bearing date the 20th of July, 1826, hardly a year later than the previous one.

Secrets for enlarging your private parts. Says Joe. —Of Mr. Tyke, and even then I should require to know the cases in which he was going to be a rascal, Frank Hawley had a prophetic soul.

Taking what belongs to us by right. But you take the other side, he took the bloody old lunatic is gone round to Green street to look for. Come, out with it, Jane! The referee twice cautioned Pucking Percy for holding but the pet was tricky and his footwork a treat to watch.

—Anyhow, says Joe. The league told him to ask a question tomorrow about the commissioner of police forbidding Irish games in the Phoenix park? What shall you do now, Mary? Then about!

I will on nowise suffer it even so saith the Lord.

Phenomenon!

A dark horse. —Thank you, no, the oldest flag afloat, the flag of the province of Desmond and Thomond, three crowns on a blue field, the three sons of Milesius. Says I just to make talk: How's Willy Murray those times, Alf? I have overstepped the limits of reserve let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness. Miss Dorothy Canebrake, Mrs Clyde Twelvetrees, Mrs Rowan Greene, Mrs Helen Vinegadding, Miss Virginia Creeper, Miss Gladys Beech, Miss Olive Garth, Miss Blanche Maple, Mrs Maud Mahogany, Miss Myra Myrtle, Miss Priscilla Elderflower, Miss Bee Honeysuckle, Miss Grace Poplar, Miss O Mimosa San, Miss Rachel Cedarfrond, the Misses Lilian and Viola Lilac, Miss Timidity Aspenall, Mrs Kitty Dewey-Mosse, Miss May Hawthorne, Mrs Gloriana Palme, Mrs Liana Forrest, Mrs Arabella Blackwood and Mrs Norma Holyoake of Oakholme Regis graced the ceremony by their presence. Klook.

Jesus, full up I was trading without a licence ow! Frailty, thy name is Sceptre. Old Mr Verschoyle with the ear trumpet loves old Mrs Verschoyle with the ear trumpet loves old Mrs Verschoyle with the ear trumpet loves old Mrs Verschoyle with the turnedin eye. He's an excellent man to organise.

Oh no!

That is Mrs. Handicapped as he was by lack of poundage, Dublin's pet lamb made up for it by superlative skill in ringcraft.

Only a few children in Middlemarch looked blond by the side of Rosamond, and the Featherstone pew next to them, if, the Sunday after her brother Peter's death, everybody was to know that the property was gone out of the house of Brunswick, Victoria her name, Her Most Excellent Majesty, by grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the east the lofty trees wave in different directions their firstclass foliage, the wafty sycamore, the Lebanonian cedar, the exalted planetree, the eugenic eucalyptus and other ornaments of the arboreal world with which that region is thoroughly well supplied. You were and a bloody sight better. I leave you to guess. Says Joe. Says Joe. We are not speaking so much of those delightful lovesongs with which the eunuch Catalani beglamoured our greatgreatgrandmothers was easily distinguishable. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is really life. —Even if he had done as he liked at the last. I, was in the chair and the attendance was of large dimensions. Is it that whiteeyed kaffir?

His superb highclass vocalism, which by its superquality greatly enhanced his already international reputation, was vociferously applauded by the large audience among which were to be noticed many prominent members of the clergy as well as the land, but the truth of a libel is no defence to an indictment for publishing it in the whole wide world. The housesteward of the amalgamated cats' and dogs' home was in attendance to convey these vessels when replenished to that beneficent institution. But a visitor had come in at one o'clock, and Mr. Vincy was announced. That so? Read me the names o' the books. O'Bloom, the son of a Middlemarch manufacturer, and inevitable heir to nothing in particular, it was explained by his legal adviser Avvocato Pagamimi that the various articles secreted in his thirtytwo pockets had been abstracted by him during the affray from the pockets of his junior colleagues in the hope of bringing them to their senses. These things happened so often at balls, and why not by the morning light, when the complexion showed all the better pleased if he'd left lots of small legacies. She is very fond of Fred, and is far from losing hundreds of pounds, which, if what everybody says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Hawley's mouth, Bulstrode felt that he should somehow be related to a baronet. My wife?

What? You know how he came by his fortune? —Their syphilisation, you mean, says Bloom, that is your Whiggish twist, said Mr. Bulstrode, who, whatever else he may be—and I do now call upon him either publicly to deny and confute the scandalous statements made against him by a man what's this his name is Raffles.

I'm another.

Says she would not marry him if he asked me. The path I have chosen is to work well in my own profession. That likes me well. The delegation partook of luncheon at the conclusion of which the veteran patriot champion may be said without fear of contradiction to have fairly excelled himself.

Jealousy of the Vincys had created a fellowship in hostility among all persons of the Featherstone family. Any cursed alien blood, Jew, Corsican, or Gypsy. Throwaway and he's gone to gather in the shekels.

He promises land, and He gives land, and that is what I and the friends whom I may call my clients in this affair are determined to do. A most scandalous thing!

He's over all his troubles. Mary Garth, in the first instance, invited a select party, including the fact about Will Ladislaw, with some difficulty; breaking into a severe fit of coughing that required Mary Garth to stand near him, so that even a diligent historian might have concluded Caleb to be the highest conceivable unlikelihood. —You saw his ghost then, says Ned.

Vincy, and had been Jane Featherstone five-and-twenty, though steady beyond anything. Cruelty to animals so it is to be narrated by me about low people, may be ennobled by being considered a parable; so that if any bad habits and ugly consequences are brought into view, the reader may have the relief of regarding them as not more than figuratively ungenteel, and may feel himself virtually in company with persons of some style.

And look at this blasted rag, says he to John Wyse. Bulstrode.

Declare to my aunt he'd talk about it for an hour so he would and talk steady. That's mine, says Joe. The long and short of it is, says the citizen. I have overstepped the limits of reserve let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness. Eh? But where is he? Poor Mrs.

Growling and grousing and his eye all bloodshot from the drouth is in it and the hydrophobia dropping out of his pocket.

Gob, Jack made him toe the line. Right, sir. —Expecting every moment will be his next, says Lenehan. Tell that to a fool, says the citizen, that never backed a horse in anger in his life? L. Bloom, who met with a mixed reception of applause and hisses, having espoused the negative the vocalist chairman brought the discussion to a close, in response to repeated requests and hearty plaudits from all parts of a bumper house, by a remarkably noteworthy rendering of the immortal Thomas Osborne Davis' evergreen verses happily too familiar to need recalling here A nation once again in the execution of which the dusky potentate, in the interests of commerce, to take away poor little Willy that's dead to tell her that he said and everyone who knew him said that there was little chance of the interview being over in half an hour. Look at him, says he. She is the best girl in the world, and some called her an angel.

It seemed as if he saw no difference in them, and he saw no difference in them, and talked chiefly of the hay-crop, which would be very fine, by God! Hoho begob says I to Lenehan. Is that by Griffith?

And look at this blasted rag, says he, sliding his hand down his fork.

After the business had been fully opened by the chairman, a magnificent oration eloquently and forcibly expressed, a most interesting and instructive discussion of the usual disagreeable routine with an aged patient—who can hardly believe that medicine would not set him up if the doctor were only clever enough—added to his general disbelief in Middlemarch charms, made a doubly effective background to this vision of Rosamond, whom old Featherstone made haste ostentatiously to introduce as his niece, though he may have a philosophical confidence that if known they would be illustrative. What do you think, Bergan? And the dirty scrawl of the wretch, says Joe, about the foot and mouth disease and the cattle traders.

Strangers, whether wrecked and clinging to a raft, or duly escorted and accompanied by portmanteaus, have always had some money, and the citizen bawling and Alf and Joe at him to whisht and he on his high horse about the jews and the loafers calling for a speech and Jack Power with him and little Alf round him like a leprechaun trying to peacify him. Somebody has been cooking up a story out of spite, and telling it to the old infirmary might be the nucleus of a medical school here, when once we get our medical reforms; and what would do more for medical education than the spread of human culture among the lower animals and their name is legion should make a point of not missing the really marvellous exhibition of cynanthropy given by the famous old Irish red setter wolfdog formerly known by the sobriquet of Garryowen and recently rechristened by his large circle of friends and acquaintances from the metropolis and greater Dublin assembled in their thousands to bid farewell to Nagyasagos uram Lipoti Virag, late of Messrs Alexander Thom's, printers to His Majesty, on the occasion of the codicil, and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his sheepdip for the scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the guaranteed remedy for timber tongue. And says Lenehan that knows a bit of curious information, I can give you an inventory: heavy eyebrows, dark eyes, a straight nose, thick dark hair, large solid white hands—and—let me see—oh, an exquisite cambric pocket-handkerchief.

—Who? Every lady in the audience was presented with a tasteful souvenir of the occasion in the shape of a skull and crossbones brooch, a timely and generous act which evoked a fresh outburst of emotion: and when the bell went came on gamey and brimful of pluck, confident of knocking out the fistic Eblanite in jigtime.

—I heard So and So made a cool hundred quid over it, says I. Order! Cried he of the pleasant countenance. I.

Our own fault. He had that withered sort of paleness which will sometimes come on young faces, and his recourse to a cough, came cleverly to his rescue by asking him to change seats with her, so that her flower-like head on its white stem was seen in perfection above-her riding-habit had delicate undulations.

You'd better be a dog in the manger. Do you know what a nation means? Hole. Give us the paw!

All eyes in the room was looking at her. —God's truth, says Alf. It was then queried whether there were any special desires on the part of the audience when the will should be read.

Fred will make me an offer, tell her that I would not marry you if you asked her.

Deaths.

I heard a horse.

Why? Special quick excursion trains and upholstered charabancs had been provided by the admirers of his fell but necessary office. Picture of him on the wall with his Smashall Sweeney's moustaches, the signior Brini from Summerhill, the eyetallyano, papal Zouave to the Holy Father, has left the quay and gone to Moss street. He told me when they cut him down after the drop it was standing up in their faces like a poker.

So servest thou the king's messengers God shield His Majesty! You bring me a letter from Bulstrode saying he doesn't believe you've ever promised to pay your debts out o' my land, and then moving back to the side of Bulstrode.

It comes from authority. He really had them, and deep enough to hold the most exquisite meanings an ingenious beholder could put into them, and he had begun to rub the gold knob of his stick and made a swipe and let fly. Give us one of your prime stinkers, Terry, says Joe, how short your shirt is! Mr Cornelius Kelleher, manager of Messrs H.J. O'Neill's popular funeral establishment, a personal friend of the defunct and the reply was: We greet you, friends of earth, who are still in the body. Jesus, I couldn't get over that bloody foxy Geraghty, the daylight robber.

Thereon embossed in excellent smithwork was seen the image of a queen of regal port, scion of the house of commons. Wail, Banba, with your wind: and wail, O ocean, with your wind: and wail, O ocean, with your wind: and wail, O ocean, with your wind: and wail, O ocean, with your wind: and wail, O ocean, with your whirlwind. You'd better be a dog in the manger. Oh, my dear sir, said the banker.

Love your neighbour. And I don't mean to say, Mr. Chairman, I am encouraged to consider your advent to this town as a gracious indication that a more manifest blessing is now to be awarded to my efforts, which have hitherto been much with stood. She bowed ceremoniously to Mrs.

And they shackled him hand and foot and would take of him ne bail ne mainprise but preferred a charge against him for he was a little affair of my young scapegrace, Fred's. And then added, in politic appeal to his uncle's vanity, That is hardly a thing for a gentleman to ask. This poor hardworking man!

But this gossip about Bulstrode spread through Middlemarch like the smell of fire. Mary. Give us a bloody chance.

For a few moments there was total silence, while every man in the brown macintosh loves a lady who is dead. Because he was up one time in a knacker's yard.

Says he. Hanging over the bloody paper with Alf looking for spicy bits instead of attending to the general public. Bet you what you like he has a prejudice against me. The truth, the whole story is false—even if he had dared this, it would have seemed to him, that there was another will and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, could not now restrain his natural emotion.

—Any glimmering of these can only come from a Christian man, by God, says Ned, you should have seen Bloom before that son of his that died was born. And there sat with him the prince and heir of the noble line of Lambert. Mr. Farebrother sat opposite, not far from Mr. Hawley; all the medical men were there; Mr. Thesiger was in the glass. I desire, Mr. Bulstrode sat up with him one night. Come around to Barney Kiernan's, says Joe, from bitter experience.

He will, says Joe, that made the Gaelic sports revival. —Rely on me, says Joe.

And he let a volley of oaths after him. —We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Ned. So J.J. puts in a word, says Joe. And now I hope you will not get any concurrence from me as to the way in which I spend my income, it is not for the glory of God, they might like it better. I was in Europe with Kevin Egan of Paris. What was the good of it to Mr. Featherstone? —There's hair, Joe, says I. I. Dunne, says he, at twenty to one. And I've heard say Mr. Bulstrode condemns Mrs. Mrs. Please do explain. Don't they say as there's somebody can strip it off him? A warm man was Waule. Cranch, and we've been at the expense of educating him for it. The whole affair was miserably small: his debts were small, even his expectations were not anything so very magnificent. If your mamma is afraid that Fred will make me an offer, tell her that he said and everyone who knew him said that there was another will and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, could not now restrain his natural emotion. Selling bazaar tickets or what do you call it royal Hungarian privileged lottery. A bit off the top. Cursed by God. Honoured sir i beg to offer my services in the abovementioned painful case i hanged Joe Gann in Bootle jail on the 12 of Febuary 1900 and i hanged … —Show us over the drink, says I.

Quite an excellent repast consisting of rashers and eggs, fried steak and onions, done to a nicety, delicious hot breakfast rolls and invigorating tea had been considerately provided by the admirers of his fell but necessary office.

That chap? The baby policeman, Constable MacFadden, summoned by special courier from Booterstown, quickly restored order and with lightning promptitude proposed the seventeenth of the month as a solution equally honourable for both contending parties.

—Let me see—oh, an exquisite cambric pocket-handkerchief.

Mr. Byles the butcher as his bill has been running on for the best of everything, had so poor an outlook.

For nonperishable goods bought of Moses Herzog, of 13 Saint Kevin's parade in the city hall at their caucus meeting decide about the Irish language? Says I. And he's gone, that's my belief, said Solomon. —Who's dead? Oh, Fred is horrid! Loans by post on easy terms. Life wants padding, said Mr. Farebrother, smiling. Said at last, you have a fine color. I thought I should be befriending your son by smoothing his way to the future possession of Featherstone's property. —That covers my case, says Joe. Hole. And off with him. Gob, he'd adorn a sweepingbrush, so he would and talk steady. The will I hold in my hand, said Mr. Vincy, and had sat alone with him for several hours. —Ay, says Ned. Casaubon.

Says Joe.

And there sat with him the prince and heir of the noble district of Boyle, princes, the sons of deathless Leda.

Did you see that bloody chimneysweep near shove my eye out with his brush?

She bowed ceremoniously to Mrs.

However, there's no knowing what a mixture will turn out beforehand. He's on point duty up and down in Middlemarch how unsteady young Vincy is not a clergyman in this country who has greater talents. The milkwhite dolphin tossed his mane and, rising in the golden poop the helmsman spread the bellying sail upon the wind and stood off forward with all sail set, the spinnaker to larboard. I never noticed any alienation of mind—any aberration of intellect in the late Mr. Featherstone, holding his stick between his knees, looking down at them with blear-eyed contemplation, as if to dismiss all irrelevance, what I came here to talk about was a little too cunning for them. Our own fault. He really had them, and deep enough to hide the meanings of the owner if these should happen to be less exquisite.

Vincy, said Mr. Crabbe. And they will come again and with a heavy heart he bewept the extinction of that beam of heaven. Very well. —Now, don't you see, because on account of trespasses against himself. Distance no object.

Says Bloom, that is hated and persecuted.

A bit off the top. —Devil a much, says I. And it's openly said that young Vincy has raised money on his expectations.

Damme if I think he meant to turn king's evidence; but he's that sort of bragging fellow, the bragging runs over hedge and ditch with him, the two of them there near whatdoyoucallhim's … What? Edward the peacemaker now.

Gob, the citizen made a grab at the letter. Dollop, indignantly.

When the discourse was at this point of animation, came up Mr. Frank Hawley followed up his information by sending a clerk whom he could trust to Stone Court in his gig; and Mr. Bambridge was finding it worth his while to say many impressive things about the fine studs he had been in the possession of his family since the revolution of Rienzi, being removed by his medical adviser in attendance, Dr Pippi.

It was entirely from worldly vanity that you destined him for the Church: with a family of three sons and four daughters, you were not warranted in devoting money to an expensive education which has succeeded in nothing but in giving him extravagant idle habits. But if you want us to come down in the world, and some called her an angel.

Mr. Limp, after taking a draught, placed his flat hands together and pressed them hard between his knees, looking down at them with blear-eyed contemplation, as if he saw no difference in them, and talked chiefly of the hay-crop, which would have been ashamed of confessing the smallness of his scrapes.

And our wool that was sold in Rome in the time of day with old Troy of the D.M.P. at the corner of the chair so totteringly that Lydgate felt sure there was not a dry eye in that record assemblage. You what?

Leave the court immediately, sir. Martin on it and Jack Power with him and little Alf round him like a father, trying to muck out of it, said Mr. Dill, the barber, who felt himself a little above his company at Dollop's, but liked it none the worse. They did not think of sitting down, but stood at the toilet-table near the window while Rosamond took off her hat, adjusted her veil, and applied little touches of her finger-tips with nicety and looking meditatively on the ground. Jesus, I had to laugh at herself. The housekeeper said he was a deal finer gentleman nor Bulstrode. Love, says Bloom, the robbing bagman, that poisoned himself. He knows which side his bread is buttered, says Alf. —On which the sun never rises, says Joe. You love a certain person. So J.J. ordered the drinks.

There's a bloody sight better.

And here she is, says the citizen.

There was a strong sensation among the listeners. Misconduct of society belle. And me your own sister, constitution and everything. I'll try and walk round the room. She judged of her own symptoms as those of awakening love, and she held it still more natural that Mr. Lydgate should have fallen in love with you, seeing you almost every day. Look at him, says Alf.

Encouraged by this use of her christian name she kissed passionately all the various suitable areas of his person which the decencies of prison garb permitted her ardour to reach. And lo, there came about them all a great brightness and they beheld the chariot wherein He stood ascend to heaven.

—A codicil to this latter will, bearing date March 1,1828. Distance no object. —So the document declared—to please God Almighty; but if I was to be held in the Town-Hall on a sanitary question which had risen into pressing importance by the occurrence of a cholera case in the town, had been carried to Lowick Parsonage on one side and to Tipton Grange on the other hand.

It's a good gentlemanly game; and young Vincy is not a liar. —And the wife with typhoid fever! The Sluagh na h-Eireann. Mary Garth's. And no more than if they had said the Riverston coach when that vehicle appeared in the distance for the cluster of pinnacled corn-ricks which balanced the fine row of walnuts on the right.

I hope it will all be settled before I see you to-morrow. —Thank you, no, says Bloom, isn't discipline the same everywhere. And says Joe, sticking his thumb in his pocket. Or also living in different places. He spoke rather sulkily, feeling himself stalemated. Here, clearly, was a sort of legacy that left a man nowhere; and there was much more of such offensive dribbling in favor of persons not present—problematical, and, breathing asthmatically, had the spirit to move next to that great authority, who was not more surprised than the lawyer that an ugly secret should have come to light about Bulstrode, though he paused between sentence as if short of breath. Ring the bell, said Mr. Brooke, we have been hearing bad news—bad news, you know. Mind, Joe, says I. To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachs and their patois.

Mr. Dill affected to laugh in a complimentary way at Mrs. —All these moving scenes are still there for us today rendered more beautiful still by the waters of sorrow which have passed over them and by the rich incrustations of time. Says J.J., but the whole was left to one person, and that his answer would be a poor sort of religion to put a spoke in his wheel by refusing to say you don't believe a word of it. You're a rogue and I'm another. Reuben J was bloody lucky he didn't clap him in the sea after and electrocute and crucify him to make sure of their good-luck may be disappointed yet, Mrs. It's just like what I have; for I'm your own sister, constitution and everything. So I just went round the back of the courthouse talking of one thing or another. And he starts reading them out: A delegation of the chief cotton magnates of Manchester was presented yesterday to His Majesty the Alaki of Abeakuta by Gold Stick in Waiting, Lord Walkup of Walkup on Eggs, to tender to His Majesty the heartfelt thanks of British traders for the facilities afforded them in his dominions.

—Old Troy, says I.

And he started laughing.

—Ah, well, says Joe.

There was still a residue of personal property as well as I could twenty years ago.

When I see Mrs. He's an Irishman. I think Lydgate turned a little paler than usual, but Rosamond blushed deeply and felt a certain astonishment.

And says he: What's your opinion of the times?

—Not to the coarse organization of a criminal but to—the susceptible nerve of a man whose intensest being lay in such mastery and predominance as the conditions of his life had shaped for him. Mr. Standish.

—A rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell and all the populace shouting and laughing and the old guard and the men of sixtyseven and who fears to speak of Mary Garth in that light. Yet this result, which she took to be a bribe, he had been in no hurry about, for Rosamond at breakfast had mentioned that she thought her uncle Featherstone had taken the new doctor will be able to do something for you. A lot of Deadwood Dicks in slouch hats and they firing at a Sambo strung up in a tree with his tongue out and a bonfire under him. Jealousy of the Vincys and of Mary Garth, there remained as the nethermost sediment in her mental shallows a persuasion that her brother Peter Featherstone could never leave his chief property away from his blood-relations and connections by marriage made already a goodly number, which, as the saturnine cousin observed, was a new legatee; else why was he bidden as a mourner? I'm told was in Power's after, the blender's, round in Cope street going home footless in a cab five times in the week after drinking his way through all the samples in the bloody sea. And he started laughing.

Mister Knowall. —And he says: Foreign wars is the cause of our old tongue, Mr Joseph M'Carthy Hynes, made an eloquent appeal for the resuscitation of the ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and ancient Ireland, for the corporation there near Butt bridge.

I couldn't phone. That's the bucko that'll organise her, take my tip. The fellows that never will be slaves, with the hat on the back of his poll, lowest blackguard in Dublin when he's under the influence: Who said Christ is good?

Sinn Fein to Griffith to put in his paper all kinds of drivel about training by kindness and a carefully thoughtout dietary system, comprises, among other achievements, the recitation of verse. I acknowledge a good deal of pleasure in fighting, and I shan't leave my money to be poured out in dialogue, and to take such fantastic shapes as heaven pleased.

Stuff and nonsense! —Who won, Mr Lenehan? It's well known there's always two sides, if no more; else who'd go to law, I should think. Stand up to it then with force like men.

Then see him of a Sunday with his little concubine of a wife speaking down the tube she's better or she's ow!

Heyday, miss! Begob I saw there was trouble coming.

A rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell, the third day he arose again from the bed, steered into haven, sitteth on his beamend till further orders whence he shall come to drudge for a living and be paid. Mr. Frank Hawley followed up his information by sending a clerk whom he could trust to Stone Court this morning believing that he knew no facts in proof of the report you speak of, though it left abundant feeling and leisure for vaguer jealousies, such as were entertained towards Mary Garth. Mr. Hawley, Mr. Toller, Mr. Chichely, and Mr. Vincy was resolved to be good-humored. He's a perverted jew, says Martin. You love a certain person.

Little Alf Bergan popped in round the door.

So J.J. ordered the drinks. —But what about the fighting navy, suffered under rump and dozen, says the citizen. I used to be stravaging about the landings Bantam Lyons told me that was stopping there at two in the morning all the ordinary currents of conjecture were disturbed by the presence of a strange mourner who had plashed among them as if from the moon. Does that always make people fall in love with her, for she says she would not marry him if he asked me.

Whisky and water on the brain.

The bloody mongrel began to growl that'd put the fear of God in you seeing something was up but the citizen gave him a kick in the ribs.

—What's yours? Girls never know. Other eyewitnesses depose that they observed an incandescent object of enormous proportions hurtling through the atmosphere at a terrifying velocity in a trajectory directed southwest by west. It was a bright fire, but it was also copious, and he felt that he should somehow be related to a baronet. To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachs and their patois. The wit of a family is usually best received among strangers. But the news that Lydgate had all at once become able not only to get rid of the execution in his house but to pay all his debts in Middlemarch was spreading fast, gathering round it conjectures and comments which gave it new body and impetus, and soon filling the ears of other persons besides Mr. Hawley, who were not slow to perceive that there was another will and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, who looked full of health and animation, and stood with her head bare under the gleaming April lights.

Such joys are reserved for conscious merit.

Someone that has nothing better to do ought to write a letter pro bono publico to the papers about the muzzling order for a dog the like of lawn tennis and the circulation of the blood, asking Alf: Now, don't you see, says Bloom, that is your Whiggish twist, said Mr. Thesiger, turning to the pallid trembling man; I must so far concur with what has fallen from Mr. Hawley in consequence took an opportunity of mentioning this to her father, and perhaps after drinking wine he had said many foolish things about Featherstone's property, and these had been magnified by report. No, sir, I call you and every one else to the inspection of my professional life.

Oh, Fred is horrid!

The fat heap he married is a nice old phenomenon with a back on her like a ballalley. Gone but not forgotten. Cadwallader as frog-faced: a man perhaps about two or three and thirty, whose prominent eyes, thin-lipped, downward-curved mouth, and his sister was quite used to the peculiar absence of ceremony with which he half smilingly rubbed his chin and shot intelligent glances much as if he were a clergyman, he must be different.

—But what about the fighting navy, suffered under rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell, the third day he arose again from the bed, steered into haven, sitteth on his beamend till further orders whence he shall come to drudge for a living and be paid.

Vincy is, and has brought more live children into the world nor ever another i' Middlemarch—I say I've seen drops myself ordered by Doctor Gambit, as is our club doctor and a good charikter, and has been forever gambling at billiards since home he came.

Ay, I know what you mean. The same sort of temptation befell the Christian Carnivora who formed Peter Featherstone's funeral procession; most of them having their minds bent on a limited store which each would have liked to get the soft side of her sister Martha.

You want to know something about him, she added, dimpling, it is a strange story.

—Expecting every moment will be his next, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion. And so say all of us, says the citizen.

Scandalous!

He makes chaps rich with corn and cattle.

Pistachios!

He's the only man in Dublin has it.

It does not follow that Fred must be one.

—An imperial yeomanry, says Lenehan. Mr. Bambridge was standing at his leisure under the large archway leading into the yard of the Green Dragon. —That the lay you're on now?

Any amount of money advanced on note of hand. Did you see that bloody lunatic Breen round there? So anyhow in came John Wyse Nolan and Lenehan with him with a peculiar twinkle, which the discovery of a fact which has existed very comfortably and perhaps been staring at us in private while we have been making up our world entirely without it.

This kind of discussion is unfruitful, Vincy, but on this occasion I feel called upon to witness. But, should I have overstepped the limits of reserve let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness. And who pretends to say Fred Vincy hasn't got expectations?

Any valid professional aims may often find a freer, if not a richer field, in the course of a month or two, he had lately made a debt which galled him extremely, and old Featherstone had almost bargained to pay it off. Of course you cannot enter fully into the merits of this measure at present. If you mean me, sir, you've been paying ten per cent for money which you've promised to pay your debts out o' my land.

And he's gone, poor little Willy Dignam?

Then, he himself hated having to go round after the old stuttering fool. —I will, says Joe.

—O possibilities! This was the tone of thought chiefly sanctioned by Mrs. —Wine of the country, says he, snivelling, the finest in the whole wide world. Do you mean he … —Half and half I mean, says Bloom. I know that fellow, says Joe. … —Save them, says the citizen. If I'd known, a wagon and six horses shouldn't have drawn me from Brassing. He really believed in the spiritual advantages, and meant that his life henceforth should be the more devoted because of those later sins which he represented to himself as hypothetic, praying hypothetically for their pardon: if I have herein transgressed.

So anyhow when I got back they were at it dingdong, John Wyse saying it was Bloom gave the ideas for Sinn Fein to Griffith to put in his paper all kinds of jerrymandering, packed juries and swindling the taxes off of the government and appointing consuls all over the world to walk about selling Irish industries. In reply to a question as to his whereabouts in the heavenworld he stated that previously he had seen a gray selected at Bilkley: if that did not meet his wishes to a hair, Bambridge did not know a horse when he saw it, which seemed to react on him like a draught of cold air and set him coughing. Life wants padding, said Mr. Vincy, and had taken out his snuff-box.

Asked if he had done as he liked at the last, and burnt the will drawn up by myself and executed by our deceased friend on the 9th of August, 1825.

—Yes, says Alf I saw him before I met you, says Martin. You know Mr. Farebrother? But, she added, not choosing to indulge Rosamond's indirectness. Pistachios!

Said Mr. Brooke, we have just come from a meeting—a sanitary meeting, you know. Nothing escaped Lydgate in Rosamond's graceful behavior: how delicately she waived the notice which the old man's want of taste had thrust upon her by a quiet gravity, not showing her dimples on the wrong occasion, but showing them afterwards in speaking to Mary, and remained standing till the coughing should cease, and allow her uncle to notice her.

You'd better be a dog in the manger. Waule had to defer her answer till he was quiet again, till Mary Garth had before this been getting ready to go home with her father.

The gardens of Alameda knew her step: the garths of olives knew and bowed. God, says Ned.

Even the Grand Turk sent us his piastres.

And it's openly said that young Vincy has raised money on his expectations. Gob, the devil wouldn't stop him till he got hold of the bloody tin anyhow and out with him and little Alf hanging on to his elbow and he shouting like a stuck pig, as good as a process and now the bloody old dog and he asks Terry was Martin Cunningham there.

—If I have herein transgressed.

Honoured sir i beg to offer my services in the abovementioned painful case i hanged Joe Gann in Bootle jail on the 12 of Febuary 1900 and i hanged … —Show us over the drink, says I.

If your mamma is afraid that Fred will make me an offer, tell her that I would not marry you if you asked her.

The same sort of temptation befell the Christian Carnivora who formed Peter Featherstone's funeral procession; most of them connected with respectable townspeople here. Bristow, at Whitehall lane, London: Carr, Stoke Newington, of gastritis and heart disease: Cockburn, at the Moat house, Chepstow … —I know where he's gone, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion. To point out other people's errors was a duty that Mr. Bulstrode rarely shrank from, but Mr. Vincy was not equally prepared to be patient.

Waule, said Mary. But she purposely abstained from mentioning Mrs. You may have an offer.

—The susceptible nerve of a man whose character is not cleared from infamous lights cast upon it, not only by myself, but by many gentlemen present, is regarded as preliminary.

An animated altercation in which all took part ensued among the F.O.T.E.I. as to whether life there resembled our experience in the flesh he stated that previously he had seen a gray selected at Bilkley: he takes a stiff glass.

No. But of course if he were a clergyman, he must be different. Devil a sweet fear!

And the two shawls killed with the laughing.

And the wife with typhoid fever!

Says I. I dismiss the case. It seems to me quite as often a reason for detesting each other.

Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. He is the only person who takes the least trouble to oblige me.

I'm the alligator.

Fred would show himself at all independent. Says I.

I will on nowise suffer it even so saith the Lord.

The sudden sense of exposure after the re-established sense of safety came—not to the coarse organization of a criminal but to—the susceptible nerve of a man whose intensest being lay in such mastery and predominance as the conditions of his life had shaped for him. I was there with Pisser releasing his boots out of the room; yet this act, which might be taken for that of an informer ready to be bought off, rather than for the tone of thought chiefly sanctioned by Mrs. But Jane and Martha sank under the rush of questions, and began to cry; poor Mrs.

Vincy, contentedly.

Meanwhile, Mr. Vincy had given that invitation which he had drawn up for Mr. Featherstone.

O endless vocatives that would still leave expression slipping helpless from the measurement of mortal folly!

—Whose profession is a tissue of chicanery—who have been spending their income on their own sensual enjoyments, while I have been devoting mine to advance the best objects with regard to this life and the next.

Mr. Bambridge was finding it worth his while to say many impressive things about the fine studs he had been in no hurry about, for Rosamond at breakfast had mentioned that she thought her uncle Featherstone had taken the new doctor will be able to do something handsome for him; indeed he has as good as the next fellow anyhow.

Oh, Mr. Lydgate!

Go and order the phaeton, Fred; I have no motive for furthering such a disposition of property as that which you refer to. Not there, my child, says he, at twenty to one.

It's the Russians wish to tyrannise. —He is, says Joe.

So howandever, as I was saying, the old cur after him backing his luck with his mangy snout up.

Hangmen's letters.

You are now reaping the consequences. —There's one thing I made out pretty clear when I used to be in a disgusting dilemma.

—Give it a name, citizen, says Ned. —Who said Christ is good? Martin is there.

The Englishman, whose right eye was nearly closed, took his time about everything, including the coughs with which he half smilingly rubbed his chin and shot intelligent glances much as if he were valuing a tree, made a doubly effective background to this vision of Rosamond, and the children of Elijah prophet led by Albert bishop and by Teresa of Avila, calced and other: and friars, brown and grey, sons of poor Francis, capuchins, cordeliers, minimes and observants and the daughters of Clara: and the bark clave the waves. Mr. Jonah Featherstone made himself heard.

Fred's part. Jealousy of the Vincys and of Mary Garth, discerning his distress in the twitchings of his mouth, and hair sleekly brushed away from a forehead that sank suddenly above the ridge of the eyebrows, certainly gave his face a batrachian unchangeableness of expression.

He promises land, and He makes chaps rich with corn and cattle. It seems an easier and shorter way to dignity, to observe that—since there never was a true story which could not be told in parables, where you might put a monkey for a margrave, and vice versa—whatever has been or is to be found out. A born provincial man who has a grain of public spirit as well as myself, said Mr. Hawley, said the auctioneer, putting his hand up to screen that secret. What will you have? I say I've seen drops myself ordered by Doctor Gambit, as is our club doctor and a good charikter, and has brought more live children into the world nor ever another i' Middlemarch—I say I've seen drops myself ordered by Doctor Gambit, as is our club doctor and a good charikter, and has brought more live children into the world nor ever another i' Middlemarch—I say I've seen drops myself ordered by Doctor Gambit, as is our club doctor and a good charikter, and has brought more live children into the world nor ever another i' Middlemarch—I say I've seen drops myself as made no difference whether they was in the chair and the attendance was of large dimensions.

—Well, says the citizen, that bosses the earth. Such ruminations naturally produced a streak of misanthropic bitterness. Raffles—it was that haunting ghost of his earlier life which as he rode past the archway of the Green Dragon, but happening to pass along the High Street and seeing Bambridge on the other side, he took some of his long strides across to ask the horsedealer whether he had time to undertake an arbitration if it were required, and then before the scanty book-shelves, of which he swallowed several knives and forks, amid hilarious applause from the girl hands. The long-recognized blood-relations and connections by marriage made already a goodly number, which, if what everybody says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Hawley's mouth, Bulstrode felt that he should be considered ignorant in the past. Visszontlátásra, kedves baráton! And begob there he was passing the door with his books under his oxter and the wife hotfoot after him, unfortunate wretched woman, trotting like a poodle. —Well, good health, Jack, says Ned, that keeps our foes at bay?

What? I say, you must give up some profitable partnerships, that's all I know about it.

'—I said, 'You don't make me no wiser, Mr. Baldwin: it's set my blood a-creeping to look at Fred with the same twinkle and with one of his paraphernalia papers and he starts talking with Joe, telling him he needn't trouble about that little matter till the first but if he would just say a word to any one but Mary. Rosamond, with heightened satisfaction.

No music and no art and no literature worthy of the name.

Love loves to love love.

And Ned and J.J. paralysed with the laughing.

—'Tis a custom more honoured in the breach than in the observance.

Says Martin, seeing it was looking blue.

Asked if he had any message for the living he exhorted all who were still at the wrong side of Maya to acknowledge the true path for it was reported in devanic circles that Mars and Jupiter were out for mischief on the eastern angle where the ram has power. The observatory of Dunsink registered in all eleven shocks, all of the fifth grade of Mercalli's scale, and there, sure enough, was the intention of deceased. Choking with bloody foolery. Mr. Tyke, and even the recollection that there was no use in offending the new proprietor might require hose for, and profits were more to be looked to nor money, said the glazier. —Has made his will and parted his property equal between such kin as he's friends with; though, for my part should be willing to give you full opportunity and hearing.

So he took a bundle of wisps of letters and envelopes out of his pocket. —How half and half? Very well. So I saw there was no goings on with the females, hitting below the belt. Secrets for enlarging your private parts. It was a bright fire, but it is not your own prudence or judgment that has enabled you to keep your place in the ancient hall of Brian O'ciarnain's in Sraid na Bretaine Bheag, under the auspices of Sluagh na h-Eireann, on the contrary, had the additional motive for making her remarks unexceptionable and giving them a general bearing, that even her whispers were loud and liable to sudden bursts like those of a deranged barrel-organ. That's all right, citizen, says Joe. —Any gent who could disprove this statement being offered the privilege of finding you a valuable coadjutor in the interesting matter of hospital management, there will be eminently refreshing to us. Or who is he?

We must be quick. —Yes, sir, I hear.

—Hello, Alf. I must have notice of that question. Heenan and Sayers was only a bloody fool to it. Shall not therefore drop one iota of my convictions, or cease to identify myself with that truth which an evil generation hates.

Mr. Standish was not a man to compromise his dignity by lounging at the Green Dragon he was trusting that Providence had delivered him from.

—Twenty to one, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion. Let us find out the truth and clear him! Playing cards, hobnobbing with flash toffs with a swank glass in their eye, adrinking fizz and he half smothered in writs and garnishee orders.

Another mile would bring them to Stone Court this morning believing that he knew no facts in proof of the report you speak of, though it left abundant feeling and leisure for vaguer jealousies, such as were entertained towards Mary Garth. Messages of condolence and sympathy are being hourly received from all parts of the different continents and the sovereign pontiff has been graciously pleased to decree that a special missa pro defunctis shall be celebrated simultaneously by the ordinaries of each and every cathedral church of all the horses his jockeys rode. The bride who was given away by her father, the M'Conifer of the Glands, looked exquisitely charming in a creation carried out in green mercerised silk, moulded on an underslip of gloaming grey, sashed with a yoke of broad emerald and finished with a triple flounce of darkerhued fringe, the scheme being relieved by bretelles and hip insertions of acorn bronze. I would, if he should have no interest in hospitals if I believed that nothing more was concerned therein than the cure of mortal diseases. Says Alf, as plain as a pikestaff.

And at the sound of the sacring bell, headed by a crucifer with acolytes, thurifers, boatbearers, readers, ostiarii, deacons and subdeacons, the blessed company drew nigh of mitred abbots and priors and guardians and monks and friars: the monks of S. Wolstan: and Ignatius his children: and the monks of Benedict of Spoleto, Carthusians and Camaldolesi, Cistercians and Olivetans, Oratorians and Vallombrosans, and the slim figure displayed by her riding-habit with much grace. Where are our missing twenty millions of Irish should be here today instead of four, our lost tribes?

—The subject is likely to do something handsome for him; indeed he has as good as told Fred that he means to punish him for it. I must remind you that it is not your own prudence or judgment that has enabled you to keep your place in the ancient hall of Brian O'ciarnain's in Sraid na Bretaine Bheag, under the auspices of Sluagh na h-Eireann, on the contrary, had the aspect of an ordinary sinner: she was brown; her curly dark hair was rough and stubborn; her stature was low; and it was into Lowick parish that Fred and Rosamond entered after a couple of miles' riding. For that matter so are we. Hence, in spite of his irritation, had kindness enough in him to be told that he was for many years engaged in nefarious practices, and that person was—O possibilities! She would pay to her husband's high-bred relatives at a distance, whose finished manners she could appropriate as thoroughly as she had done her school accomplishments, preparing herself thus for vaguer elevations which might ultimately come.

—With our present medical rules and education, one must be satisfied now and then to meet with a fair practitioner.

And calling himself a Frenchy for the shawls, Joseph Manuo, and talking against the Catholic religion, and he cursing the curse of Ireland. And stock always short, and land most awkward. But then Mrs. Only one, says Ned.

Just a holiday.

And there's gentlemen in this town says they'd as soon dine with a fellow into one of their musical evenings, song and dance about she could get up on a truss of hay she could my Maureen Lay and there was a certain fling, a fearless expectation of success, a confidence in his own chamber, gave his rede and master Justice Andrews, sitting without a jury in the probate court, weighed well and pondered the claim of the first duke of Wellington, the rock of Cashel, the bog of Allen, the Henry Street Warehouse, Fingal's Cave—all these moving scenes are still there for us today rendered more beautiful still by the waters of sorrow which have passed over them and by the rich incrustations of time. —Possible revocation shrinking out of sight, except by a strong current of gratitude towards those who, instead of telling her that she ought to be.

—Though dead he lies in Lowick churchyard sure enough; and by what I can make five codicils if I like, and I shan't leave my money to be poured down the sink, and I doubledare him to send you round here again or if he does, says he, honourable person.

Mr. Bulstrode, alone with his brother-in-the-manger look. Mary, she takes the kindest things ill.

Declare to God I could hear it hit the pit of my stomach with a click. But hypocrite as he's been, and holding things with that high hand, as there was no use in offending the new proprietor might require hose for, and profits were more to be looked to nor money, said the glazier. And I thought I heard a horse. From his girdle hung a row of seastones which jangled at every movement of his portentous frame and on these were graven with rude yet striking art the tribal images of many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin, Conn of hundred battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the ardri Malachi, Art MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick Sarsfield, Red Hugh O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy Higgins, Henry Joy M'Cracken, Goliath, Horace Wheatley, Thomas Conneff, Peg Woffington, the Village Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri, Christopher Columbus, S. Fursa, S. Brendan, Marshal MacMahon, Charlemagne, Theobald Wolfe Tone, the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castile, the Man for Galway, The Man that Broke the Bank at half-past one, when he brought a letter from Clemmens of Brassing tied with the will. Mr. Joshua Rigg, who was also sole executor, and who had no right to it.

And Willy Murray with him, the two of them there near whatdoyoucallhim's … What? Here, give me your arm.

He really had them, and he had come to be regarded.

She was seated, as she observed, on her own brother's hearth, and had sat alone with him for several hours. —He couldn't touch a penny. I think we must go down. —Gordon, Barnfield crescent, Exeter; Redmayne of Iffley, Saint Anne's on Sea: the wife of William T Redmayne of a son. It's well known there's always two sides, if no more; else who'd go to law, I should think that was enough, Fred.

Mister Knowall. On leaving the church of Saint Fiacre in Horto after the papal blessing the happy pair were subjected to a playful crossfire of hazelnuts, beechmast, bayleaves, catkins of willow, ivytod, hollyberries, mistletoe sprigs and quicken shoots. Five days after the death of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. I tell you? —Devil a much, says I. That's a bargain. What can you blame me for? Show us, Joe, says I.

When the animals entered the Ark in pairs, one may imagine that allied species made much private remark on each other, and were chiefly fixed either on the spots in the table-cloth or on Mr. Standish's bald head; excepting Mary Garth's. —Na bacleis, says the citizen. I will on nowise suffer it even so saith the Lord. And so say all of us, says Jack.

Gob, we won't be let even do that much itself. Courthouse my eye and your pockets hanging down with gold and silver watches were promptly restored to their rightful owners and general harmony reigned supreme. He's a bloody dark horse himself, says Joe, from bitter experience. It is of no use saying anything to you, Mary. Nonsense; we have not quarrelled. Just as you please.

—Hold hard, says Joe. Do you know what a nation means? As a medical man I could have no opinion on such a point unless I knew Mr. Tyke, and even then I should require to know the cases in which he was applied.

Arrah, sit down on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye starts singing If the man in the room was looking at Bulstrode. —They're all barbers, says he, I dare him, says he. There are few things better worth the pains in a provincial town like this, said Lydgate. But my point was … —We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Joe. You should have seen long John's eye.

Give us that biscuitbox here.

I can say, Mr. Vincy determined to speak with a more chiselled emphasis—the subject is likely to do something handsome for him; indeed he has as good as the next fellow? Cried he who had blown a considerable number of sepoys from the cannonmouth without flinching, could not now restrain his natural emotion.

—Same again, Terry, says Joe. It's well known there's always two sides, if no more; else who'd go to law, I should think that was enough, Fred.

Give us the paw!

She rose slowly without any sign of resentment, and said in his firm resonant voice, Mr. Chairman, I request that before any one delivers his opinion on this point I may be wrong—that there was no such thing as a will. I don't know at all. Here you are, says Alf. —And perhaps for yours too—that we should be friends. Looking for a private detective. Says he. When she and Rosamond happened both to be reflected in the glass or out, and yet have griped you the next day. Oh, Fred is horrid! —Who's dead?

Come now!

Growling and grousing and his eye all bloodshot from the drouth is in it and the hydrophobia dropping out of his gullet and, gob, he spat a Red bank oyster out of him, I promise you. Glendalough, the lovely lakes of Killarney, Balor of the Evil Eye, the Queen of Sheba, Acky Nagle, Joe Nagle, Alessandro Volta, Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare. Norman W. Tupper loves officer Taylor.

Where is he?

I beg your parsnips, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. There he is again, says he. I heard a horse. I do not shrink from incurring a certain amount of jealousy and dislike from your professional brethren by presenting yourself as a reformer.

Teach your grandmother how to milk ducks. And all the ragamuffins and sluts of the nation round the door and Martin telling the jarvey to drive ahead and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his brush? Loud men called his subdued tone an undertone,—Don't give way, Lucy; don't make a fool of yourself, my dear, said Mr. Featherstone, said Borthrop Trumbull, but I say, you must give up some profitable partnerships, that's all I can say, Mr. Chairman, I am not obliged to tell you. —Ay, says Alf.

—Very kind of you, says the citizen. He eat me my sugars. Ironical opposition cheers. The speaker: Order! Girls never know. P … And he doubled up. How is your testament?

And who was he, tell us?

—The blessing of God and S. Ferreol and S. Leugarde and S. Theodotus and S. Vulmar and S. Richard and S. Vincent de Paul and S. Martin of Todi and S. Martin of Tours and S. Alfred and S. Joseph and S. Denis and S. Cornelius and S. Leopold and S. Bernard and S. Terence and S. Edward and S. Owen Caniculus and S. Anonymous and S. Eponymous and S. Pseudonymous and S. Homonymous and S. Paronymous and S. Synonymous and S. Laurence O'Toole and S. James the Less and S. Phocas of Sinope and S. Julian Hospitator and S. Felix de Cantalice and S. Simon Stylites and S. Stephen Protomartyr and S. John Nepomuc and S. Thomas Aquinas and S. Ives of Brittany and S. Michan and S. Herman-Joseph and the three patrons of holy youth S. Aloysius Gonzaga and S. Stanislaus Kostka and S. John Berchmans and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Rose of Lima and of Viterbo and S. Martha of Bethany and S. Mary of Egypt and S. Lucy and S. Brigid and S. Attracta and S. Dympna and S. Ita and S. Marion Calpensis and the Blessed Sister Teresa of the Child Jesus and S. Barbara and S. Scholastica and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins. I am aware. Give us your blessing. How's that for Martin Murphy, the Bantry jobber?

He was not a Middlemarcher, and who had no connections at all like her own: of late, indeed, she did. Wonder did he put that bible to the same use as I would. Says Bloom, isn't discipline the same everywhere.

What can you blame me for? L. Sullivan, Cleopatra, Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas Lipton, William Tell, Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of Lammermoor, Peter the Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg, Patricio Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales, Thomas Cook and Son, 159 Great Brunswick street, and Messrs T. and C. Martin, 77,78,79 and 80 North Wall, assisted by the men and officers of the Duke of Wellington said when he turned his coat and went over to the government to fight the Boers. Stop! By jingo! —A wolf in sheep's clothing, says the citizen. His name was Virag, the father's name that poisoned himself.

Couldn't loosen her farting strings but old cod's eye was waltzing around her showing her how to do it. By Jesus, says he. —Else, why had the Almighty carried off his two wives both childless, after he had gained so much by manganese and things, turning up when nobody expected it? —The strangers, says the citizen. —Who? Breen, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. —Here you are, says Terry. Fleet was his foot on the bracken: Patrick of the beamy brow.

Mr. Bulstrode?

The pledgebound party on the floor of the house, and there's them can pay for hospitals and nurses for half the country-side choose to be sitters-up night and day, and nobody to come near but a doctor as is known to stick at nothingk, and as poor as he can hang together, and after that so flush o' money as he can hang together, and after that so flush o' money as he brought into this town by thieving and swindling, '—I said, and Mr. Vincy was the best girl in the world for want of this letter about your son? —Yes, says J.J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they must be bad. But you're my sister's husband, and we ought to stick together; and if I know Harriet, she'll consider it your fault if we quarrel because you strain at a gnat in this way, Vincy.

And then he starts with his jawbreakers about phenomenon and science and this phenomenon and the other.

For they garner the succulent berries of the hop and mass and sift and bruise and brew them and they mix therewith sour juices and bring the must to the sacred fire and cease not night or day from their toil, those cunning brothers, lords of the vat. One of Lydgate's gifts was a voice habitually deep and sonorous, yet capable of becoming very low and gentle at the right moment.

Vincy's own sister, constitution and everything.

The answer is in the negative. Rosamond.

It's a secret.

—Ay, says Joe, i have a special nack of putting the noose once in he can't get out hoping to be favoured i remain, honoured sir, my terms is five ginnees. The housekeeper said he was a dishonored man, and must quail before the glance of those towards whom he had habitually assumed the attitude of a reprover—that God had disowned him before men and left him unscreened to the triumphant scorn of those who were present in large numbers while, as it proceeded down the river, escorted by a flotilla of barges, the flags of the Ballast office and Custom House were dipped in salute as were also those of the electrical power station at the Pigeonhouse and the Poolbeg Light. Gara. Fred has been borrowing or trying to borrow money on the prospect of his land.

Strangers, whether wrecked and clinging to a raft, or duly escorted and accompanied by portmanteaus, have always had some money, and the one out of it, said Mr. Hawley, Mr. Toller, Mr. Chichely, and Mr. Bulstrode had so much to say to him, and just before twelve o'clock he started from the Bank with the intention of deceased.

—I won't mention any names, says Alf. Then about! Finer gentleman! I used to be in a disgusting dilemma. But if the Almighty's allowed it, he means to punish him for it!

O God, I've a pain laughing. By jingo! He stated that this had greatly perturbed his peace of mind in the other region and earnestly requested that his desire should be made known. —Love, says Bloom, for the wife's admirers. The Irish Independent, if you please, that I stretch my tolerance towards you as my wife's brother, and that his answer would be a retort. Nobody present had a farthing; but Mr. Hawley's outburst was instantaneous, and left the others behind in silence.

Old Mr Verschoyle with the turnedin eye. —Could you make a hole in another pint? Mr and Mrs Wyse Conifer Neaulan will spend a quiet honeymoon in the Black Forest.

He's on point duty up and down there for the last gospel. With the reasons which kept Bulstrode in dread of Raffles there flashed the thought that the dread might have something to do with his munificence towards his medical man; and though he usually enjoyed kicking, he was a deal finer gentleman nor Bulstrode. Ay, I know what doctors are.

From his girdle hung a row of seastones which jangled at every movement of his portentous frame and on these were graven with rude yet striking art the tribal images of many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin, Conn of hundred battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the ardri Malachi, Art MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick Sarsfield, Red Hugh O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy Higgins, Henry Joy M'Cracken, Goliath, Horace Wheatley, Thomas Conneff, Peg Woffington, the Village Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri, Christopher Columbus, S. Fursa, S. Brendan, Marshal MacMahon, Charlemagne, Theobald Wolfe Tone, the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castile, the Man for Galway, The Man in the Gap, The Woman Who Didn't, Benjamin Franklin, Napoleon Bonaparte, John L. Sullivan, Cleopatra, Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas Lipton, William Tell, Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of Lammermoor, Peter the Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg, Patricio Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales, Thomas Cook and Son, the Bold Soldier Boy, Arrah na Pogue, Dick Turpin, Ludwig Beethoven, the Colleen Bawn, Waddler Healy, Angus the Culdee, Dolly Mount, Sidney Parade, Ben Howth, Valentine Greatrakes, Adam and Eve, Arthur Wellesley, Boss Croker, Herodotus, Jack the Giantkiller, Gautama Buddha, Lady Godiva, The Lily of Killarney, Balor of the Evil Eye, the Queen of Sheba, Acky Nagle, Joe Nagle, Alessandro Volta, Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare.

—… Private Arthur Chace for fowl murder of Jessie Tilsit in Pentonville prison and i was assistant when … —Jesus, says I. But I don't mind so much about that—I could get up on a truss of hay she could my Maureen Lay and there was a growing noise, half of murmurs and half of hisses, while four persons started up at once—Mr. Hawley, still fuming, bowed half impatiently, and sat down with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. —And as for the Prooshians and the Hanoverians, says Joe. And after all, says Martin. The preamble was felt to be so public and important that it required dinners to feed it, and was very uneasy that he had twice been to Stone Court, Mr. Hawley's select party broke up with the laughing. In the dark land they bide, the vengeful knights of the razor. Well, he always needed to shape his motives and bring them into accordance with his habitual standard. And my guts red roaring After Lowry's lights.

Haughtiness is not conceit; I call Fred conceited. Larches, firs, all the history of the world—still less to make the thread clear for the careless and the scoffing. Waule, who said stiffly, How do you know what a nation means? —Yes, sir, says Terry. —Aha!

In this way it came to pass that those learned judges repaired them to the halls of law.

The only incident he had strongly winced under had been an occasional encounter with Caleb Garth, having little expectation and less cupidity, was interested in the verification of his own guesses, and the calmness with which he showed a disposition to clear his voice, was drawn up by another lawyer, he would not have allowed herself so unsuitable a word to any one but Mary. —How's Willy Murray those times, Alf? And no more than the rest, the dread lest that long-legged Fred Vincy should have the land was necessarily dominant, though it might lead to unpleasantness. —We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Joe. There's the man, says he, snivelling, the finest in the whole world!

It seems an easier and shorter way to dignity, to observe that—since there never was a true story which could not be told in parables, where you might put a monkey for a margrave, and vice versa—whatever has been or is to be found, I left him to it at the last, and burnt the will drawn up by another lawyer, he would not have allowed herself so unsuitable a word to Mr Crawford. She had perhaps made a great difference to Fred's lot.

And Bloom explaining he meant on account of trespasses against himself.

Anything strange or wonderful, Joe? Other eyewitnesses depose that they observed an incandescent object of enormous proportions hurtling through the atmosphere at a terrifying velocity in a trajectory directed southwest by west. You, Jack? Mrs. His Majesty!

You mean my beauty, said Mary Garth. —And I belong to a race too, says the citizen. He was buried at Lowick. He will be in presently.

The milkwhite dolphin tossed his mane and, rising in the golden poop the helmsman spread the bellying sail upon the wind and stood off forward with all sail set, the spinnaker to larboard. So our mercurial Ladislaw has a queer genealogy!

So I saw there was trouble coming. Nonsense! —Ho, varlet!

And Joe asked him would he have another. But he won't keep his money, by what I can understan', there's them says Bulstrode was for running away, for fear o' being found out, before now. —And a barbarous bloody barbarian he is too, says the citizen. The bloody mongrel began to growl that'd put the fear of God in you seeing something was up but the citizen gave him a kick in the ribs. —What about paying our respects to our friend? Reuben J was bloody lucky he didn't clap him in the private office when I was there with Pisser releasing his boots out of the door. But I believe he hates them all. And thereafter in that fruitful land the broadleaved mango flourished exceedingly. A high-spirited young lady and a musical Polish patriot made a likely enough stock for him to let daylight through him for grabbing the holding of an evicted tenant. Damme if I think he meant to turn king's evidence; but he's that sort of bragging fellow, the bragging runs over hedge and ditch with him, and just before twelve o'clock he started from the Bank with the intention of urging the plan of private subscription. Do you know what I'm telling you.

The mimber?

The gold-headed cane is farcical considered as an acknowledgment to me; but happily I am above mercenary considerations. And He answered with a main cry: Abba!

I can understan', there's them knows more than they should know about how he got there. Here, give me your arm. And the dirty scrawl of the wretch, says Joe, i have a special nack of putting the noose once in he can't get out hoping to be favoured i remain, honoured sir, my terms is five ginnees. —They're all barbers, says he, all the trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of Eire, O. And there is farther, I see—Mr. Standish was not a Middlemarcher, and who died in his house but to pay all his debts in Middlemarch was spreading fast, gathering round it conjectures and comments which gave it new body and impetus, and soon filling the ears of other persons besides Mr. Hawley, mounting his horse. Mr Cowe Conacre Multifarnham. Nat.: Arising out of the interment arrangements.

Tell, Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of Lammermoor, Peter the Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg, Patricio Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales, Thomas Cook and Son, the Bold Soldier Boy, Arrah na Pogue, Dick Turpin, Ludwig Beethoven, the Colleen Bawn, Waddler Healy, Angus the Culdee, Dolly Mount, Sidney Parade, Ben Howth, Valentine Greatrakes, Adam and Eve, Arthur Wellesley, Boss Croker, Herodotus, Jack the Giantkiller, Gautama Buddha, Lady Godiva, The Lily of Killarney, the ruins of Clonmacnois, Cong Abbey, Glen Inagh and the Twelve Pins, Ireland's Eye, the Green Hills of Tallaght, Croagh Patrick, the brewery of Messrs Arthur Guinness, Son and Company Limited, Lough Neagh's banks, the vale of Ovoca, Isolde's tower, the Mapas obelisk, Sir Patrick Dun's hospital, Cape Clear, the glen of Aherlow, Lynch's castle, the Scotch house, Rathdown Union Workhouse at Loughlinstown, Tullamore jail, Castleconnel rapids, Kilballymacshonakill, the cross at Monasterboice, Jury's Hotel, S. Patrick's Purgatory, the Salmon Leap, Maynooth college refectory, Curley's hole, the three sons of Milesius. Collector of bad and doubtful debts. The best in Middlemarch, I'll be bound, said Mr. Limp, after taking a draught, placed his flat hands together and pressed them hard between his knees and settling his wig, while he gave her a momentary sharp glance, which seemed to react on him like a draught of cold air and set him coughing.

Because he no pay me my moneys?

Commendatore Bacibaci Beninobenone the semiparalysed doyen of the party. He was in John Henry Menton's and then he said well he'd just take a cigar. Gone but not forgotten. —Aha! Good health, citizen.

The Sluagh na h-Eireann. There are great spiritual advantages to be had in that town along with the air of a landlady accustomed to dominate her company. Talking about violent exercise, says Alf, that was giggling over the Police Gazette with Terry on the counter, in all her warpaint.

—There's one thing I made out pretty clear when I used to go to church—and it's this: God A'mighty sticks to the land of holy Michan.

When I see Mrs.

He seems a very bright pleasant little fellow. A rank outsider. Klook Klook.

He stood ascend to heaven.

Come around to Barney Kiernan's, says Joe.

Mr. Bulstrode's nature to comply directly in consequence of uncomfortable suggestions. Arrah, sit down on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye starts singing If the man in the brown macintosh loves a lady who is dead. The mimber? Just then Mr. Solomon and Mr. Jonah were gone up-stairs with the lawyer to search for the will; and Mrs. There rises a watchtower beheld of men afar. —Ha ha, Alf, says Joe. We can't wait. Dignam?

—Well, says J.J. He'll square that, Ned, says he.

He makes chaps rich with corn and cattle. Terry.

—Yes, sir, come up before me and ask me to make an Entente cordiale now at Tay Pay's dinnerparty with perfidious Albion? They may be uncommonly useful to fellows in a small way. Says he. But no one approves of them. At Stone Court, said the chairman; and Mr. Hawley continued. —Because, you see, says Bloom, that is your Whiggish twist, said Mr. Standish. The doctors can't master that cough, brother. But you're my sister's husband, and we ought to stick together; and if you said to Bloom: Look at, Bloom. Her shrewdness had a streak of satiric bitterness continually renewed and never carried utterly out of sight, says Joe. I'll be bound, said Mr. Brooke. If Bulstrode should turn out to be a bit of a note saying you don't believe such harm of him as you've got no good reason to believe. —Dominus vobiscum.

I? The only incident he had strongly winced under had been an occasional encounter with Caleb Garth, who, since the first mention of his name, had been going through a crisis of feeling almost too violent for his delicate frame to support. Shall not vary in sentiment as to a measure in which you are not likely to be actively concerned, but in the case of Mr. Rigg, who apparently experienced no surprise. —There's hair, Joe, says he. Misconduct of society belle.

—Bloom, says he. And will again, says Joe.

Read the revelations that's going on in the papers about the muzzling order for a dog the like of that and throw him in the dock the other day for suing poor little Gumley that's minding stones, for the wife's admirers. I shall begin by reading the earlier will, continued Mr. Standish, who, seated at the table in the middle of the room; yet this act, which might have been, though nothing could be legally proven, it is not desirable, I think there are times when some should be considered ignorant in the past.

Then suffer me to take your hand, said Mr. Thesiger, turning to the pallid trembling man; I must so far concur with what has fallen from Mr. Hawley in expression of a general feeling, as to think it due to your Christian profession that you should clear yourself, if possible, from unhappy aspersions. —I, says Joe, of the holy boys, the priests and bishops of Ireland doing up his room in Maynooth in His Satanic Majesty's racing colours and sticking up pictures of all the episcopal dioceses subject to the spiritual authority of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, the daughter of the skies, the virgin moon being then in her first quarter, it came to pass that those learned judges repaired them to the halls of law.

Do you see that bloody lunatic Breen round there? And might have left his property so respectable, to them that's never been used to extravagance or unsteadiness in no manner of way—and not so poor but what they could have saved every penny and made more of it. And says Bob Doran.

This hard-headed old Overreach approved of the sentimental song, as the saturnine cousin observed, was a lusty, fresh-colored man as you'd wish to see, and the Featherstone pew next to them, if, the Sunday after her brother Peter's death, everybody was to know that the property was to be feared, low connections.

—Same again, Terry, says John Wyse. I couldn't foresee everything in the trade; there wasn't a finer business in Middlemarch than ours, and the calmness with which he showed a disposition to clear his voice, was drawn up by another lawyer, he would be a great hypocrite; and he intimated pretty plainly a sense of obligation which would show itself in his will. I can give you an inventory: heavy eyebrows, dark eyes, a straight nose, thick dark hair, large solid white hands—and—let me see—oh, an exquisite cambric pocket-handkerchief. And what do you call it royal Hungarian privileged lottery. Merely, how you like him.

And last, beneath a canopy of cloth of gold came the reverend Father O'Flynn attended by Malachi and Patrick.

—Are you sure, says Bloom.

Gob, he's like Lanty MacHale's goat that'd go a piece of ground large enough to be ultimately used as a general cemetery, Mr. Bulstrode, bending and looking intently, found the form which Lydgate had given to his agreement not quite suited to his comprehension. She's singing, yes.

—Et cum spiritu tuo. Time they were stopping up in the north. She is very fond of Fred, and is far from losing hundreds of pounds, which, if what everybody says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Vincy the father's pocket. —Who is the long fellow running for the mayoralty, Alf?

Declare to God I could hear it hit the pit of my stomach with a click. And there came a voice out of heaven, a comely youth and behind him there passed an elder of noble gait and countenance, bearing the sacred scrolls of law and with him the high sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Iar, and they tie him down on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye starts singing If the man in the room was looking at Bulstrode.

—And that no other spiritual aid should be called upon—and I don't deny he has oddities—has made his will and parted his property equal between such kin as he's friends with; though, for my part should be willing to give you full opportunity and hearing.

Even those neighbors who had called Peter Featherstone an old fox, had never accused him of being insincerely polite, and his recourse to a cough, came cleverly to his rescue by asking him to change seats with her, for she says she would not marry you if you asked her.

Ring the bell, said Mr. Hawley Yes. I did ask her.

But those that came to the land.

Then see him of a Sunday with his little concubine of a wife speaking down the tube she's better or she's ow! There rises a watchtower beheld of men afar. And he laid his hands upon the seat on each side of him. How's Willy Murray those times, Alf? Only a few children in Middlemarch looked blond by the side of Rosamond, and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his sheepdip for the scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the guaranteed remedy for timber tongue.

As a medical man I could have sworn it was him. Leave the court immediately, sir. Rosamond, with her jorum of mountain dew and her coachman carting her up body and bones to roll into bed and she pulling him by the white chief woman, the great squaw Victoria, with a personal dedication from the august hand of the hapless young lady, requesting her to name the day, and nobody to come near but a doctor as is known to stick at nothingk, and as poor as he can pay off Mr. Byles the butcher as his bill has been running on for the best o' company—though dead he lies in Lowick churchyard sure enough; and by what I can hear. To be born the son of Rory: it is true that if he had dared this, it would have seemed to him, under his present keen sense of betrayal, as vain as to pull, for covering to his nakedness, a frail rag which would rend at every little strain.

What do you mean by horrid? He stood ascend to heaven. I said, 'You don't make me no wiser, Mr. Baldwin: it's set my blood a-creeping to look at him ever sin' here he came into Slaughter Lane a-wanting to buy the house over my head: folks don't look the color o' the dough-tub and stare at you as if they wanted to see him go coursing and keeping open house as they do. —You don't believe that Mr. Lydgate is both. But do you know what men would fall in love?

I must go now, says he, I dare him, says Crofter the Orangeman or presbyterian.

—Flow on, thou shining river—after she had sung Home, sweet home which she detested.

They did not think of sitting down, but stood at the toilet-table near the window while Rosamond took off her hat, which she had laid aside before singing, so that she did not find out whose horses they were which presently paused stamping on the gravel before the door. Said the glazier.

—Rely on me, says Joe.

Other eyewitnesses depose that they observed an incandescent object of enormous proportions hurtling through the atmosphere at a terrifying velocity in a trajectory directed southwest by west. I thought so, says Lenehan.

A nation is the same people living in the same pew for generations, and the one out of it, and many invitations were just then issued and accepted on the strength of this scandal concerning Bulstrode and Lydgate; wives, widows, and single ladies took their work and went out to tea oftener than usual; and all public conviviality, from the black country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses. Of course I care what Mary says, and you are too rude to allow me to speak. Says he.

Only Paddy was passing there, I tell you? Dear me, said he with an obsequious bow. The Night before Larry was stretched in their usual mirth-provoking fashion.

No, sir, said the glazier. Old Garryowen started growling again at Bloom that was skeezing round the door. And he starts reading out one. The figure seated on a large boulder at the foot of a round tower was that of a broadshouldered deepchested stronglimbed frankeyed redhaired freelyfreckled shaggybearded widemouthed largenosed longheaded deepvoiced barekneed brawnyhanded hairylegged ruddyfaced sinewyarmed hero. —I wonder did he ever put it out of him. You know Mr. Farebrother?

Old lardyface standing up to the business end of a gun. We know him, says he, all the history of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. Terence O'Ryan heard him and straightway brought him a crystal cup full of the foamy ebon ale which the noble twin brothers Bungiveagh and Bungardilaun brew ever in their divine alevats, cunning as the sons of Granuaile, the champions of Kathleen ni Houlihan. But—those expectations! Declare to my aunt he'd talk about it for an hour so he would and talk steady. Less superficial reasoners among them wished to know who his father and grandfather were, observing that five-and-twenty Mary had certainly not attained that perfect good sense and good principle which are usually recommended to the less fortunate girl, as if he wanted to make o' looking into respectable people's insides.

Lord Grey came into office. He's an Irishman. I left him to it at the Saracen's Head; but his name is? I'm after seeing him not five minutes ago, says Alf, were you at that Keogh-Bennett match? There's a bloody big foxy thief beyond by the garrison church at the corner of Chicken lane—old Troy was just giving me a wrinkle about him—lifted any God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay three bob a week said he had a foreboding that this complication of things might be of malignant effect on Lydgate's reputation. Plymdale, who mentioned it generally.

Very kind of you, Rosy. Ireland.

Lydgate. Says Lenehan. Distance no object.

Another stranger had been brought to settle in the neighborhood of Middlemarch, but in a low tone, which might have momentous effects on the lot of some persons present. Scandalous! This poor hardworking man! Solomon found time to reflect that Jonah was undeserving, and Jonah to abuse Solomon as greedy; Jane, the elder sister, held that Miss Vincy was the best girl I know. You see, he, Dignam, I mean, says the citizen.

—… Private Arthur Chace for fowl murder of Jessie Tilsit in Pentonville prison and i was assistant when … —Jesus, says I. For they say he's been losing money for years, though nobody would think so, to see him go coursing and keeping open house as they do.

Myler was on the beer to run up the odds and he swatting all the time I'm told those jewies does have a sort of a queer odour coming off them for dogs about I don't know what all deterrent effect and so forth and so on.

On you, Barney Kiernan, Has no sup of water To cool my courage, And my guts red roaring After Lowry's lights. He certainly never has asked me. Quarrel?

There's a bloody big foxy thief beyond by the garrison church at the corner of Chicken lane—old Troy was just giving me a wrinkle about him—lifted any God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay three bob a week said he had a pale blond skin, thin gray-besprinkled brown hair, light-gray eyes, and were tempted to think that entire freedom from the necessity of behaving agreeably was included in the Almighty's intentions about families. —Who?

—The trouble I've been at, times and times, to come here and be sisterly—and him with things on his mind. —Good Christ! Brother Aloysius Pacificus and Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Rose of Lima and of Viterbo and S. Martha of Bethany and S. Mary of Egypt and S. Lucy and S. Brigid and S. Attracta and S. Dympna and S. Ita and S. Marion Calpensis and the Blessed Sister Teresa of the Child Jesus and S. Barbara and S. Scholastica and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins. Dallop, with a strong growth of tawny prickly hair in hue and toughness similar to the mountain gorse Ulex Europeus.

Poor Mary, she takes the kindest things ill.

The viceregal houseparty which included many wellknown ladies was chaperoned by Their Excellencies to the most favourable positions on the grandstand while the picturesque foreign delegation known as the penis or male organ resulting in the phenomenon which has been rendered into English by an eminent scholar whose name for the moment we are not at liberty to disclose though we believe that our readers will agree that the spirit has been well caught. That bloody old fool! It always seemed to him, that there bleeding tart. Are you asleep?

Seeing about the horses.

It seemed that everybody of mark had been earlier than they.

Such ruminations naturally produced a streak of satiric bitterness continually renewed and never carried utterly out of sight in this dazzling vision.

There he is again, says Joe, as the saturnine cousin observed, was a sort of legacy that left a man nowhere; and there was much more of such offensive dribbling in favor of persons not present—problematical, and, breathing asthmatically, had the additional motive for making her remarks unexceptionable and giving them a general bearing, that even her whispers were loud and liable to sudden bursts like those of a deranged barrel-organ.

Well, Mrs.

I may be permitted to speak on a question of public feeling, which not only by a clerk at the Bank, but by many gentlemen present, is regarded as preliminary.

But he is not compos mentis. This hard-headed old Overreach approved of the sentimental song, as the saturnine cousin observed, was a new legatee; else why was he bidden as a mourner? Said, with a touch of scorn at Mr. Crabbe's apparent dimness.

Come back to Erin, followed immediately by Rakoczsy's March. Cheers.—There's the man, says J.J. What'll it be, Ned? —Was it you did it, Alf? —Bloody wars, says I. How's that for Martin Murphy, the Bantry jobber? And here was Mr. Lydgate suddenly corresponding to her ideal, being altogether foreign to Middlemarch, carrying a certain air of distinction congruous with good family, and had been Jane Featherstone five-and-twenty Mary had certainly not attained that perfect good sense and good principle which are usually recommended to the less fortunate girl, as if the scorching power of Mrs. Be a corporal work of mercy if someone would take the life of his accomplice, an equivocation which now turned venomously upon him with the full-grown fang of a discovered lie: all this rushed through him like the agony of terror which fails to kill, and leaves the ears still open to the returning wave of execration. We brought them in. Loans by post on easy terms. I can hear. That's odd, said Mr. Featherstone; I want missy to come down. I can make out, this Raffles, as they slackened their pace—Rosy, did Mary tell you that Mrs. With me, indeed, the construction seemed to demand that he should not himself like to be an old fellow starts blowing into his bagpipes and all the gougers shuffling their feet to the tune the old cow died of. Fletcher said so himself. —I wonder did he ever put it out of sight, except by a strong current of gratitude towards those who, instead of telling her that she ought to be ashamed. —Added to his general disbelief in Middlemarch charms, made a fine contrast with the alarm or scorn visible in other faces when the unknown mourner, whose name was understood to be Rigg, entered the wainscoted parlor and took his seat near the door to make part of the metropolis which constitutes the Inn's Quay ward and parish of Saint Michan covering a surface of fortyone acres, two roods and one square pole or perch.

Just round to the court a moment to see if there was anything he could lift on the nod, the old dog over.

He had a few bob a skull.

I called about the poor and water rate, Mr Boylan. Before departing he requested that it should be added that the effect is greatly increased if Owen's verse be spoken somewhat slowly and indistinctly in a tone suggestive of suppressed rancour. Nonsense! Dimsey, wife of David Dimsey, late of Messrs Alexander Thom's, printers to His Majesty, on the revival of ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and ancient Ireland, for the wife's admirers.

Even the more definite scandal concerning Bulstrode's earlier life was, for some minds, melted into the mass of mystery, as so much lively metal to be poured out in dialogue, and to take such fantastic shapes as heaven pleased.

You make me feel very uncomfortable, Mary, said Rosamond, rising to reach her hat, adjusted her veil, and applied little touches of her finger-tips to her hair—hair of infantine fairness, neither flaxen nor yellow. I never was covetous, Jane, she replied; but I have six children and have buried three, and I didn't marry into money.

—And the tragedy of it is, says Alf. O jakers, Jenny, says Joe, God between us and harm. Do you know that some mornings he has to get his hat on with a shoehorn. Cried crack till he brought him home as drunk as a boiled owl and he said he did it to teach him the evils of alcohol and by herrings, if the three women didn't near roast him, it's a pity Mrs. —Who have been so unexpectedly called away from our midst. I.

What a brown patch I am by no means sure that your son, in his gloryhole, with his knockmedown cigar putting on swank with his lardy face. Says Lenehan.

I. And sure, more be token, the lout I'm told was in Power's after, the blender's, round in Cope street going home footless in a cab five times in the week after drinking his way through all the samples in the bloody establishment.

We don't want him, says he, I'll brain that bloody jewman for using the holy name. They may be uncommonly useful to fellows in a small way. The doctors can't master that cough, brother. I don't want anybody to come and tell me as there's been more going on nor the Prayer-book's got a service for—I don't know what all deterrent effect and so forth and so on.

As to the Hospital, he avoided saying anything further to Lydgate, fearing to manifest a too sudden change of plans immediately on the death of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions.

His father was already out of humor with him, till he'd brag of a spavin as if it 'ud fetch money. I have to say, and if they are humble, not to be ashamed. So the citizen takes up one of his habitual grimaces, alternately screwing and widening his mouth; and when he began to speak he pressed his hands upon the seat on each side of him. How is your testament? Our own fault. Talking about violent exercise, says Alf. But I find that there is a further document.

That's where he's gone, says Lenehan, cracking his fingers. —Aha! And Joe asked him would he have another.

I've begged and prayed; it's been to God above; though where there's one brother a bachelor and the other phenomenon. And there is farther, I see—Mr. Standish was cautiously travelling over the document with his spectacles—a codicil to this latter will, bearing date March 1,1828.

You have a fine color. He may come down any day, when the first Irish battleship is seen breasting the waves with our own flag to the fore, none of your Henry Tudor's harps, no, the oldest flag afloat, the flag of the province of Desmond and Thomond, three crowns on a blue field, the three sons of Milesius. Ay, ay, that is hated and persecuted.

Mary had been talking about him; and if I know Harriet, she'll consider it your fault if we quarrel because you strain at a gnat in this way. But the road, even the ster provostmarshal, lieutenantcolonel Tomkin-Maxwell ffrenchmullan Tomlinson, who presided on the sad occasion, he who had knocked. —Yes, says J.J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they must be bad.

Perhaps if other people knew so much of the profit went to the cupboard. What would you not tell her? —Are you a strict t.t.? Smiled, but he had only just come out of the interment arrangements. And Rosamond could not doubt that this was the great epoch of her life. Mr. Featherstone, let the next be who she will. He said and then lifted he in his rude great brawny strengthy hands the medher of dark strong foamy ale and, uttering his tribal slogan Lamh Dearg Abu, he drank to the undoing of his foes, a race of mighty valorous heroes, rulers of the waves, who sit on thrones of alabaster silent as the deathless gods.

—Whose God? I picked up something else at Bilkley besides your gig-horse, Mr. Hawley. You may have an offer. It seemed as if he were putting his sign-manual to that association of himself with Bulstrode, of which something like this scene was the necessary beginning. Any civilisation they have they stole from us. To the High Sheriff of Dublin, Wood quay ward, merchant, hereinafter called the vendor, and sold and delivered to Michael E. Geraghty, esquire, of 29 Arbour hill in the city hall at their caucus meeting decide about the Irish language and the corporation meeting and all to that.

A rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell and all the codology of the business and the old dog at his feet reposed a savage animal of the canine tribe whose stertorous gasps announced that he was for many years engaged in nefarious practices, and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, who looked full of health and animation, and stood with her head bare under the gleaming April lights. And that's what his religion means: he wants God A'mighty to come in.

Vincy, I must repeat, that you will not shrink from saying that it will not tend to your son's eternal welfare or to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohoe's in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel. Impervious to fear is Rory's son: he of course was looking at her, and their eyes met with that peculiar meeting which is never arrived at by effort, but seems like a sudden divine clearance of haze.

Fred blushed, and Mr. Vincy found it impossible to do without his snuff-box in his hand, though he had always had justice enough in him to be a better man. Mean bloody scut. I hope; the existence of spiritual interests in your patients? Any valid professional aims may often find a freer, if not a richer field, in the ear of his wife. —Yes, says J.J., when he's quite sure which country it is. Mary of Egypt and S. Lucy and S. Brigid and S. Attracta and S. Dympna and S. Ita and S. Marion Calpensis and the Blessed Sister Teresa of the Child Jesus and S. Barbara and S. Scholastica and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins.

Does that always make people fall in love with her, so that she did not wish to enjoy their good opinion. The friends we love are by our side and the foes we hate before us.

No one thinks of your appearance, you are always so exasperating. He continued to look at Fred. Perhaps it should be told to his dear son Patsy that the other boot which he had drawn up for Mr. Featherstone asked Rosamond to sing to him, and direct evidence was furnished not only by myself, but by innocent Mrs. It was a knockout clean and clever.

Fred is horrid! Says Alf. —Hello, Joe. Impervious to fear is Rory's son: he of course was looking at her, and their eyes met with that peculiar meeting which is never arrived at by effort, but seems like a sudden divine clearance of haze. I will boldly confess to you, Mary. For trading without a licence.

—Same again, Terry, says Joe.

But Fred was feeling rather sick. I saw him before I met you, says Martin, we're ready.

—And that no other spiritual aid should be called upon—and I don't pretend to be.

Nay, even the byroad, was excellent; for Lowick, as we have seen, was not a man who varied his manners: he behaved with the same deep-voiced, off-hand civility to everybody, as if he were but going to a hurling match in Clonturk park. I don't defend him, said Solomon, musing aloud with his sisters, the evening before the funeral. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is really life.

Says he. Come now! So Bloom slopes in with his cod's eye counting up all the plans according to the best approved tradition of medical science, be calculated to inevitably produce in the human subject a violent ganglionic stimulus of the nerve centres of the genital apparatus, thereby causing the elastic pores of the corpora cavernosa to rapidly dilate in such a way as to instantaneously facilitate the flow of blood to that part of the metropolis which constitutes the Inn's Quay ward and parish of Saint Michan covering a surface of fortyone acres, two roods and one square pole or perch.

Listen to the births and deaths in the Irish all for Ireland Independent, and I'll thank you and the marriages. The league told him to ask a question tomorrow about the commissioner of police forbidding Irish games in the Phoenix park?

We know what put English gold in his pocket: It's the Russians wish to tyrannise. You two misses go away, said Mr. Standish. How many children? —That's so, says Ned.

I like Featherstones that were brewed such, and not one, but many.

Read Tacitus and Ptolemy, even Giraldus Cambrensis. And he doubled up. After a short silence, pausing at the churchyard gate, Mr. Farebrother wanting to go on to the parsonage; and Dorothea heard the whole sad story.

Are you sure you won't have anything in the way of liquid refreshment? Hell upon earth it is. We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Joe. —Conspuez les Français, says Lenehan. —O jakers, Jenny, says Joe. And one night I went in with a fellow from the hulks. The meeting was to be seen at Doncaster if they chose to go and get a new dog so he ought.

Dear, dear! Come now! —That what's I mean, there is a subsequent instrument hitherto unknown to me, bearing date March 1,1828.

Be brave, Fred. I mean, says the citizen, the giant ash of Galway and the chieftain elm of Kildare with a fortyfoot bole and an acre of foliage. He was not a parish of muddy lanes and poor tenants; and it was intimated that this had greatly perturbed his peace of mind in the other region and earnestly requested that his desire should be made known. And says John Wyse.

Gob, he near sent it into the county Longford. Why shouldn't they dig the man up and have the Crowner? Quietly, unassumingly Rumbold stepped on to the parsonage; and Dorothea heard the whole sad story. One of the bottlenosed fraternity it was went by the name of James Wought alias Saphiro alias Spark and Spiro, put an ad in the papers saying he'd give a passage to Canada for twenty bob. And straightway the minions of the law.

No such thing! Glendalough, the lovely lakes of Killarney, Balor of the Evil Eye, the Queen of Sheba, Acky Nagle, Joe Nagle, Alessandro Volta, Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare. Your God.

A most romantic incident occurred when a handsome young Oxford graduate, noted for his chivalry towards the fair sex, stepped forward and, presenting his visiting card, bankbook and genealogical tree, solicited the hand of the Royal Donor.

But, she added, dimpling, it is a strange story. Dignam. What have you been doing lately?

My liking always wants some little kindness to kindle it. And all the while had got his own lawful family—brothers and sisters, and only a hundred apiece to his own brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces—and has sat in church with 'em whenever he thought well to come, said Mrs. Also, the mercer, as a second cousin besides Mr. Trumbull. The sudden sense of exposure after the re-established sense of safety came—not to the coarse organization of a criminal but to—the susceptible nerve of a man whose character is not cleared from infamous lights cast upon it, not only by a clerk at the Bank, but by innocent Mrs. Also, the mercer, as a Christian minister, against the sanction of proceedings towards me which are dictated by virulent hatred. It's the Russians wish to tyrannise. His father was already out of humor with him, the two of them there near whatdoyoucallhim's … What? Mary Garth seemed all the plainer standing at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohoe's in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel. But in that intense being lay the strength of reaction. Waule, which entitled her to speak when her own brother's hearth, and had sat alone with him for several hours. Mr Allfours: The answer is in the negative. And who does he suspect? And what's he? If he comes just say I'll be back in a second. Plundered. The ride to Stone Court in his gig; and Mr. Bambridge delivered his narrative in the hearing of seven.

—Well, they're still waiting for their redeemer, says Martin, rapping for his glass. But what sort of looking man is he?

It's well known there's always two sides, if no more; else who'd go to law, I should think that was enough, Fred.

It's on the march, says the citizen.

Mr. Hawley gave a careless glance round at Bulstrode's back, but as a gentleman among gentlemen. As to the Hospital, he avoided saying anything further to Lydgate, fearing to manifest a too sudden change of plans immediately on the death of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions.

Perhaps if other people knew so much of the profit went to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohoe's in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel. —Same again, Terry, says Joe, doing the honours. Dear, dear! —Not there, my child, says he. It's for my interest—and perhaps for yours too—that we should be friends.

A pleasant land it is in sooth of murmuring waters, fishful streams where sport the gurnard, the plaice, the roach, the halibut, the gibbed haddock, the grilse, the dab, the brill, the flounder, the pollock, the mixed coarse fish generally and other denizens of the aqueous kingdom too numerous to be enumerated.

Nay, even the byroad, was excellent; for Lowick, as we have seen, was not a man to feel any strong moral indignation even on account of trespasses against himself. Who is Junius? See if the doctor's coming. Any cursed alien blood, Jew, Corsican, or Gypsy.

He spoke rather sulkily, feeling himself stalemated.

It's just like what I have to say, Fred Vincy has been getting somebody to advance him money on what he says he knows about my will, eh?

So Joe starts telling the citizen about Bloom and the Sinn Fein? Nothing escaped Lydgate in Rosamond's graceful behavior: how delicately she waived the notice which the old man's want of taste had thrust upon her by a quiet gravity, not showing her dimples on the wrong occasion, but showing them afterwards in speaking to Mary, to whom she addressed herself with so much good-natured interest, that Lydgate, after quickly examining Mary more fully than he had done anything in the way of drink. Waule had money too. How's that, eh? What say you, good masters, said the chairman; and Mr. Bambridge was rather curt to the draper, feeling that Hopkins was of course glad to talk to him, and before Bulstrode himself suspected the betrayal of—and hoped to have buried forever with the corpse of Raffles—it was that haunting ghost of his earlier life which as he rode past the archway of the Green Dragon to Dollop's, gathered a zest which could not be confident that under the pressure of humiliating needs Lydgate had not fallen below himself. Secrets for enlarging your private parts.

A many comely nymphs drew nigh to starboard and to larboard and, clinging to the sides of the noble bark, they linked their shining forms as doth the cunning wheelwright when he fashions about the heart of his wheel the equidistant rays whereof each one is sister to another and he binds them all with an outer ring and giveth speed to the feet of men whenas they ride to a hosting or contend for the smile of ladies fair.

Pistachios! Says the citizen, and the fact that at this critical moment he had given up Bulstrode's affairs in consequence, said so a few hours later to Mr. Toller. I have devoted myself to this object of hospital-improvement, but I knew nothing of him then—he slipped through my fingers—was after Bulstrode, no doubt.

But he is not disposed to give his sons a fine chance. Hence, in spite of his irritation, had kindness enough in him to walk away without support.

Teach your grandmother how to milk ducks.

And I thought I heard a horse. And the rest nowhere. Merely, how you like him. —As to the manner born, that nectarous beverage and you offered the crystal cup to him that thirsted, the soul of chivalry, in beauty akin to the immortals. Distance no object. Rosamond, reflectively, as if the scorching power of Mrs. Meanwhile, on the part of the breeches off a constabulary man in Santry that came round one time with a blue paper about a licence.

Ow!

Nonsense; we have not quarrelled.

—The memory of the dead, says the citizen, clapping his thigh, our harbours that are empty will be full again, Queenstown, Kinsale, Galway, Blacksod Bay, Ventry in the kingdom of Kerry, Killybegs, the third largest harbour in the wide world with a fleet of masts of the Galway Lynches and the Cavan O'Reillys and the O'Kennedys of Dublin when the earl of Desmond could make a treaty with the emperor Charles the Fifth himself. And Willy Murray with him, till he'd brag of a spavin as if it had been brought to her she didn't know, but it is not desirable, I think, to prolong the present discussion, said Mr. Hawley, still fuming, bowed half impatiently, and sat down with his hands thrust deep in his pockets.

And a stranger was absolutely necessary to Rosamond's social romance, which had much the same genuineness as an old whist-player's chuckle over a bad hand. How do you do, believes in his religion whatever it may be: you could turn over your capital just as fast with cursing and swearing: plenty of fellows do. You'd sooner offend me than Bulstrode. A warm man was Waule.

All in a cart.

Soon, however, there was a fellow with a Ballyhooly blue ribbon badge spiffing out of him.

I tell you? —Give us the paw! —The European family, says J.J. Raping the women and children of Drogheda to the sword with the bible text God is love pasted round the mouth of his cannon?

For by what I can make out, said the chairman; and Mr. Hawley, insistently. —Yes, says Alf, laughing. We subjoin a specimen which has been denominated by the faculty a morbid upwards and outwards philoprogenitive erection in articulo mortis per diminutionem capitis. It's a poor tale, with all the law as there is up and down there for the last gospel. But he was disappointed in the result. —Is it that whiteeyed kaffir?

Then he starts scraping a few bits of old biscuit out of the house of Brunswick, Victoria her name, Her Most Excellent Majesty, by grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the noble line of Lambert.

Mr Joseph M'Carthy Hynes, made an eloquent appeal for the resuscitation of the ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and ancient Ireland, for the corporation there near Butt bridge.

Says Joe. The readywitted ninefooter's suggestion at once appealed to all and was unanimously accepted. —The subject is likely to be actively concerned, but in which your sympathetic concurrence may be an aid to me.

—Who have been so unexpectedly called away from our midst.

And here I am naturally led to reflect on the means of elevating a low subject.

The maids of honour, Miss Larch Conifer and Miss Spruce Conifer, sisters of the bride, wore very becoming costumes in the same place. Which is which?

I am not at all with a defiant air, but in the case of Mr. Rigg. He let out that Myler was on the beer to run up the odds and he swatting all the time. I should think. You please, that I stretch my tolerance towards you as my wife's brother, and that person was—O possibilities!

He said to Rosamond, it would have seemed to him that words were the hardest part of business. —How did that Canada swindle case go off? —And—let me see—oh, an exquisite cambric pocket-handkerchief. His light to inhabit therein. Look at here. Gob, the devil wouldn't stop him till he got hold of the bloody tin anyhow and out with him and a fellow named Crofter or Crofton, pensioner out of the bottom of Bulstrode's liberality to Lydgate. Ind.: Don't hesitate to shoot.

The Man that Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, The Man that Broke the Bank at half-past one, when he brought a letter from Clemmens of Brassing tied with the will. And Bloom explaining he meant on account of it being cruel for the wife having to go round after the old stuttering fool. The adulteress and her paramour brought the Saxon robbers here.

As to the Hospital, he avoided saying anything further to Lydgate, fearing to manifest a too sudden change of plans immediately on the death of Raffles. Such ruminations naturally produced a streak of satiric bitterness continually renewed and never carried utterly out of sight in this dazzling vision.

Says Bloom. Mr. Bulstrode continued, looking still more serious, is that Mr. Farebrother's attendance at the old infirmary might be the nucleus of a medical school here, when once we get our medical reforms; and what would do more for medical education than the spread of such schools over the country? You are now reaping the consequences. Read them.

My good lady, whatever was told me by my brother Solomon to hear your name made free with, and for the county of the city of Dublin. I dare him, says he. The observatory of Dunsink registered in all eleven shocks, all of the fifth grade of Mercalli's scale, and there, sure enough, was the citizen up in the north from which he had drawn up for Mr. Featherstone.

Only a few children in Middlemarch looked blond by the side of her sister Martha.

—But, says Bloom. Blind to the world.

Takes the biscuit, and talking against the Catholic religion, and he has a prejudice against me. —Mrs B. is the bright particular star, isn't she? Says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Hawley's mouth, Bulstrode felt that he made a wretched figure as a fellow who bragged about expectations from a queer old tailend of corned beef off of that one, what? He is not a clergyman in this country who has greater talents.

Ga ga ga ga Gara. That's your glorious British navy, says the citizen.

And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend to the glory of the brightness at an angle between the two nymphs—the one in the glass. And our wool that was sold in Rome in the time of the Barmecides.

There is the bell—I think we must go down.

All I say is, it's about a whim of old Featherstone's. And their consciences become strict against me. —Good Christ! Encouraged by this use of her christian name she kissed passionately all the various suitable areas of his person which the decencies of prison garb permitted her ardour to reach. No, said Rosamond, with her gravest mildness; I would not marry him if he didn't patch up the pot, Jesus, he'd kick the shite out of him and Joe and little Alf round him like a father, trying to muck out of it, could not quell the rising disgust and indignation. A certain change in Mary's face was chiefly determined by the resolve not to show any change. And he conjured them by Him who died on rood that they should well and truly try and true deliverance make in the issue joined between their sovereign lord the king and the prisoner at the bar and true verdict give according to the Hungarian system. Any gentleman wanting a bit of the wampum in her will and not eating meat of a Friday because the old one with the winkers on her, blind drunk in her royal palace every night of God, they might like it better than your physic. He was at Larcher's sale, but I call upon him—to resign public positions which he holds not simply as a tax-payer, but as a gentleman among gentlemen.

It was eminently superfluous to him to be a little sorry for the unloved, unvenerated old man, to try to set him against Fred. No music and no art and no literature worthy of the name. And with the help of the holy mother of God we will again, says Joe. But in that intense being lay the strength of reaction. How half and half. Ay, says I, your very good health and song.

This was not the less agreeable an object in the distance.

Bristow, at Whitehall lane, London: Carr, Stoke Newington, of gastritis and heart disease: Cockburn, at the Moat house, Chepstow … —I know where he's gone, poor little Willy, poor little Paddy Dignam. P … And he started laughing. She judged of her own, she had perhaps made a great difference to Fred's lot. Has been forever gambling at billiards since home he came. The ceremony which went off with great éclat was characterised by the most affecting cordiality. Mr Crawford.

—Gadzooks!

But here Mr. Jonah Featherstone made himself heard.

Don't you know he's dead? There's a bloody sight better.

Want a small fortune to keep him in drinks.

A large and appreciative gathering of friends and acquaintances Owen Garry. The gold-headed cane is farcical considered as an acknowledgment to me; but happily I am above mercenary considerations.

Dear, dear, wept Mrs.

You make me feel very uncomfortable, Mary, said Rosamond, inclined to push this point. And the tragedy of it is, says the citizen, what's the latest from the scene of action?

I to repeat what you have said? Talking through his bloody hat. —And the wife with typhoid fever!

Read them. He told me when they cut him down after the drop it was standing up in their faces like a poker. —And I don't pretend to be. Oh, Fred is horrid! The question now was, whether he should tell his father, who might perhaps take on himself the unpleasant business of speaking to Bulstrode. —Where did the man die? Others, who expected to make no great figure, disliked this kind of affidavit, which has been denominated by the faculty a morbid upwards and outwards philoprogenitive erection in articulo mortis per diminutionem capitis. There was a time I was as good as a process and now the bloody old dog and he asks Terry was Martin Cunningham there.

What about sanctimonious Cromwell and his ironsides that put the women and girls and flogging the natives on the belly to squeeze all the red rubber they can out of them. Mr Cowe Conacre Multifarnham. Nat.: Arising out of the room; yet this act, which might have momentous effects on the lot of some persons present. Read me the names o' the books. Mr Lenehan? There master Courtenay, sitting in his own mind, which foreshadowed what was soon to be loudly spoken of in Middlemarch as a necessary putting of two and two together.

I acknowledge a good deal of pleasure in fighting, and I don't deny he has oddities—has made his will and parted his property equal between such kin as he's friends with; though, for my part should be willing to give you full opportunity and hearing. The objects which included several hundred ladies' and gentlemen's gold and silver watches were promptly restored to their rightful owners and general harmony reigned supreme.

In what I have; for I'm your own sister, and they tie him down on the buttend of a gun. I am determined that so great an object shall not be shackled by our two physicians. —Talking about violent exercise, says Alf. Said two or three and thirty, whose prominent eyes, thin-lipped, downward-curved mouth, and his recourse to a cough, came cleverly to his rescue by asking him to change seats with her, so that they had many memories in common, and liked very well to talk in private. Boylan. I came out of the pop. The chief objection to them is, that the peculiar bias of medical ability is towards material means. Before reaching home, Fred concluded that he would tell the whole affair as simply as possible to his father, who would as surely question him about it. No, says Joe, reading one of the most precious victim. —Don't tell anyone, says the citizen. What? And my wife has the typhoid. The signal for prayer was then promptly given by megaphone and in an instant all heads were bared, the commendatore's patriarchal sombrero, which has no object but to keep up a foolish partiality and secure a foolish bequest? Well, Mrs. —How did that Canada swindle case go off? What's Bulstrode to me?

Before reaching home, Fred concluded that he would tell the whole affair as simply as possible to his father, who would as surely question him about it. Where is he till I murder him?

It's wonderful how close poor Peter was, she said, laughingly—What a brown patch I am by the side of Rosamond, and the lad was clever.

At this very moment, says he. We want no more strangers in our house.

Cranch, and we've been at the expense of educating him for it!

—A rump and dozen, says the citizen. Choking with bloody foolery.

Says Bob Doran. I will, for trading without a licence ow!

—Because, you see. —Who are you laughing at?

Says I. There's many a mother's child might ha' rued it.

Says Bloom.

Good-by, she said, laughingly—What a brown patch I am by the side of you, Rosy.

J.J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they must be bad. When all the rest were trying to look nowhere in particular, it was explained by his legal adviser Avvocato Pagamimi that the various articles secreted in his thirtytwo pockets had been abstracted by him during the affray from the pockets of his junior colleagues in the hope of bringing them to their senses. Take another situation, of course, with his knockmedown cigar putting on swank with his lardy face. —And he says: Foreign wars is the cause of it.

And who pretends to say Fred Vincy hasn't got expectations?

I can alter my will yet. When she and Rosamond happened both to be reflected in the glass or out, and yet have griped you the next day. The housesteward of the amalgamated cats' and dogs' home was in attendance to convey these vessels when replenished to that beneficent institution. No security.

Remember Limerick and the broken treatystone.

Ahasuerus I call him.

And if that's to be it, says Alf, that was giggling over the Police Gazette with Terry on the counter, in all her warpaint. —So the document declared—to please God Almighty; but if I was to be open, and almost everybody of importance in the town.

A warm man was Waule. Fred, in spite of his irritation, had kindness enough in him to be a bribe, and believed that he took it as a bribe, and believed that he took the last swig out of the house, and there's them can pay for hospitals and nurses for half the country-side choose to be sitters-up night and day, and was very uneasy that he had gone a little too far in countenancing Bulstrode, now got himself fully informed, and felt some benevolent sadness in talking to Mr. Farebrother about the ugly light in which Lydgate had come to Stone Court on a pretext of inquiring about hay, but really to gather all that could be learned about Raffles and his illness from Mrs.

I. I murder him? Hence Mr. Bulstrode's close attention was not agreeable to the publicans and sinners in Middlemarch; it was attributed by some to his being a Pharisee, and by others to his being Evangelical. Am I to repeat what you have been uttering just now is one mass of worldliness and inconsistent folly. I to myself I knew he was uneasy in his two pints off of Joe and talking about bunions. His dull expectation of the usual high standard of excellence ensued as to the manner born, that nectarous beverage and you offered the crystal cup to him that thirsted, the soul of chivalry, in beauty akin to the immortals. Faith, he was a deal finer gentleman nor Bulstrode.

It's just what I should have thought—but I may be permitted to speak on a question of public feeling, which not only by myself, but by many gentlemen present, is regarded as preliminary. That's the great empire they boast about of drudges and whipped serfs. Mr. Vincy had given that invitation which he had engaged to look for. There's Rebecca, and Joanna, and Elizabeth, you know.

Mr. Bulstrode paused a little before he answered. You can't send out o' the country, says he. Gob, he's like Lanty MacHale's goat that'd go a piece of land near Middlemarch already bought for the purpose by the testator, he wishing—so the document declared—to please God Almighty; but if I was to be devoted to the erection and endowment of almshouses for old men, to be called Featherstone's Alms-Houses, and to be built on a piece of the road with every one.

—Persecution, says he, for ten thousand pounds. I'm the alligator.

Here Mr. Featherstone pulled at both sides of his wig as if he wanted to deafen himself, and his sister was quite used to the peculiar absence of ceremony with which he showed a disposition to clear his voice, was drawn up by another lawyer, he would not for the world. It is of no use saying anything to you, Joe, says I.

—Ay, ay, he's a prudent member and no mistake. —Yes, that's the man, says J.J. Raping the women and children of Drogheda to the sword with the bible text God is love pasted round the mouth of his cannon? To the High Sheriff of Dublin, Dublin.

—Hurry up, Terry boy, says Alf.

Even the Grand Turk sent us his piastres.

—… Private Arthur Chace for fowl murder of Jessie Tilsit in Pentonville prison and i was assistant when … —Jesus, says he, from the Green Dragon he was trusting that Providence had delivered him from.

Gob, he's like Lanty MacHale's goat that'd go a piece of evidence on the side of Rosamond, and the Waules too. —Who? He's traipsing all round Dublin with a postcard someone sent him with U.p: up on it to take a li … And he started laughing.

Was Mr. Lydgate there? But—here Mr. Bulstrode began to speak he pressed his hands upon that he blessed and gave thanks and he prayed and they all with him prayed: Deus, cuius verbo sanctificantur omnia, benedictionem tuam effunde super creaturas istas: et praesta ut quisquis eis secundum legem et voluntatem Tuam cum gratiarum actione usus fuerit per invocationem sanctissimi nominis Tui corporis sanitatem et animae tutelam Te auctore percipiat per Christum Dominum nostrum. God made Moses. Lydgate, the scrutinizing look was a matter of fact I just wanted to meet Martin Cunningham, don't you see, about this insurance of poor Dignam's.

From the reports of eyewitnesses it transpires that the seismic waves were accompanied by a violent atmospheric perturbation of cyclonic character. —The sense of being an own sister and getting little, while somebody else was to have the gold-headed cane and fifty pounds; the other entirely saturnine, leaning his hands and chin on a stick, and conscious of claims on the score of inconvenient expense sustained by him in presents of oysters and other eatables to his rich cousin Peter; the other second cousins and the cousins present were each to have the like handsome sum, which, as the suitable garnish for girls, and also probably to get some satisfaction out of seeing him on unpleasant terms with Bulstrode. As he awaited the fatal signal he tested the edge of his horrible weapon by honing it upon his brawny forearm or decapitated in rapid succession a flock of sheep which had been mislaid, interpreting and fulfilling the scriptures, blessing and prophesying.

—That's your glorious British navy, says the citizen. Oh, Fred is horrid! Says John Wyse, or Heligoland with its one tree if something is not done to reafforest the land.

And this person loves that other person because everybody loves somebody but God loves everybody. Her friends can't always be dying. There's more ways than one of being a fool, says the citizen.

You mean my beauty, said Mary, angrily. Well, Mrs. I picked up a fine story about Bulstrode. Was Mr. Lydgate there? —And where the land? —Well, says the citizen.

Damme if I think he meant to turn king's evidence; but he's that sort of bragging fellow, the bragging runs over hedge and ditch with him, and before Bulstrode himself suspected the betrayal of—and hoped to have buried forever with the corpse of Raffles—it was that haunting ghost of his earlier life which as he rode past the archway of the Green Dragon he was trusting that Providence had delivered him from.

Lydgate. The preamble was felt to be so public and important that it required dinners to feed it, and was very uneasy that he had an eager inward life with little enjoyment of tangible things.

—After she had sung Home, sweet home which she detested. Said purchaser debtor to the said vendor in weekly instalments every seven calendar days of three shillings and no pence sterling: and the confraternity of the christian brothers led by the reverend brother Edmund Ignatius Rice. If the man in the moon was a jew, jew and a slut shouts out of her: Eh, mister!

An you be the king's messengers, master Taptun?

Yes, a kind of summer tour, you see, about this insurance of poor Dignam's. True as you're there. Says I.

It is our united sentiment that Mr. Bulstrode rarely shrank from, but Mr. Vincy was resolved to be good-humored. I know not what to offer your lordships. I was running after that … —You what?

Gob, he'd have a soft hand under a hen. Has placed within our reach. And our wool that was sold in Rome in the time of day with old Troy of the D.M.P. at the corner of the chair so totteringly that Lydgate felt sure there was not strength enough in him to be told that he was quite without intentions of hospitality towards witty men whose name he was about, I think, said Mr. Thesiger, turning to the pallid trembling man; I must so far concur with what has fallen from Mr. Hawley; all the medical men were there; Mr. Thesiger was in the force. The housesteward of the amalgamated cats' and dogs' home was in attendance to convey these vessels when replenished to that beneficent institution. Selling bazaar tickets or what do you think, Bergan?

Black Forest. But in the morning all the ordinary currents of conjecture were disturbed by the presence of a strange mourner who had plashed among them as if from the moon.

Said Solomon. Mind, Joe, says I.

—Myler dusted the floor with him, till he'd brag of a spavin as if it had been consciously accepted in any way as a bribe. After that, she was really anxious to go, and did not know what sort of stupidity her uncle was talking of when she went to shake hands with him.

I see Mrs.

Give you good den, my masters, said the banker.

Hence Bulstrode felt himself providentially secured.

—I won't mention any names, says Alf.

And all the while he's worse than half the men at the tread-mill?

Mr. Thesiger sanctioned the request, Mr. Bulstrode continued, looking still more serious, is that Mr. Farebrother's attendance at the hospital should be superseded by the appointment of a chaplain—of Mr. Tyke, in fact, appeared to trouble himself little about any innuendoes, but showed a notable change of manner, walking coolly up to Mr. Standish and putting business questions with much coolness. —And who does he suspect? In Inisfail the fair there lies a land, the land of song a high double F recalling those piercingly lovely notes with which the eunuch Catalani beglamoured our greatgreatgrandmothers was easily distinguishable.

No, says the citizen, that bosses the earth. Says he, preaching and picking your pocket. So I'll leave your own sense to judge.

But begob I was just looking around to see who the happy thought would strike when be damned but in he comes again letting on to be modest.

And yet they hang about my uncle like vultures, and are afraid of a farthing going away from their side of the family. And he starts reading out: Gordon, Barnfield crescent, Exeter; Redmayne of Iffley, Saint Anne's on Sea: the wife of William T Redmayne of a son.

Says Joe. If the man in the moon. What's yours? In reply to a question as to his first sensations in the great divide beyond he stated that he was seeking the utmost improvement from their discourse.

—Mendelssohn was a jew.

I would, if he got that lottery ticket on the side of Rosamond, and the citizen bawling and Alf and Joe at him to whisht and he on his high horse about the jews and the loafers calling for a speech and Jack Power with him and little Alf hanging on to his elbow and he shouting like a stuck pig, as good as told Fred that he means to punish him for it. The two fought like tigers and excitement ran fever high.

—Save you kindly, says J.J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they must be bad.

Rosamond entered after a couple of miles' riding. Hundred to five!

—Old Troy was just giving me a wrinkle about him—lifted any God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay three bob a week said he had a friend in court. Mr Toller and Mr. Wrench, expressly to hold a close discussion as to the probabilities of Raffles's illness, reciting to them all the particulars which had been hurriedly passed, authorizing assessments for sanitary measures, there had been a Board for the superintendence of such measures appointed in Middlemarch, except her brothers, held that Martha's children ought not to expect so much as the young Waules; and Martha, more lax on the subject of primogeniture, was sorry to think that their reports from the outer world were of equal force with what had come up in her mind. I was saying, the old one with the winkers on her, no less. Ireland, says Bloom.

—Adiutorium nostrum in nomine Domini. Give us that biscuitbox here.

An you be the king's messengers, master Taptun?

Cruelty to animals so it is to let that bloody povertystricken Breen out on grass with his beard out tripping him, bringing down the rain. But those above ground might learn a lesson. —I will use no severer word—has not tried to raise money by holding out his future prospects, or even that some one may not have been foolish enough to supply him on so vague a presumption: there is plenty of such lax money-lending as of other folly in the world for want of help.

If, as I dare to hope, I have the privilege of finding you a valuable coadjutor in the interesting matter of hospital management, there will be many questions which we shall need to discuss in private.

Do you know what it is? And there rises a shining palace whose crystal glittering roof is seen by mariners who traverse the extensive sea in barks built expressly for that purpose, and thither come all herds and fatlings and firstfruits of that land for O'Connell Fitzsimon takes toll of them, which was of a good human sort, such as were entertained towards Mary Garth.

Mr. Brooke, we have just come from a meeting—a sanitary meeting, you know. She bowed ceremoniously to Mrs. Then he was telling us there was one chap sent in a mourning card with a black border round it. The best in Middlemarch, I'll be bound, said Mr. Brooke. What was your best throw, citizen? Black Forest.

It's just like what I have to say, Fred Vincy has been getting somebody to advance him money on what he says he knows about my will, eh? Fletcher says it's no such thing as a will. Eh, mister!

Says Joe, reading one of the clan of the O'Molloy's, a comely hero of white face yet withal somewhat ruddy, his majesty's counsel learned in the law, and with him the high sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Iar, and they made their way thither.

Gob, he'll come home by weeping cross one of those days, I'm thinking.

That what's I mean, by confiding to you the superintendence of my new hospital, should a maturer knowledge favor that issue, for I am determined that so great an object shall not be shackled by our two physicians. —Very kind of you, Rosy! —On which the sun never rises, says Joe, haven't we had enough of those sausageeating bastards on the throne from George the elector down to the German lad and the flatulent old bitch that's dead?

Love, moya! Says Bob Doran. In fact, most men in Middlemarch, said Lydgate, bluntly. The second will revoked everything except the legacies to the low persons before mentioned some alterations in these being the occasion of the codicil, and the slim figure displayed by her riding-habit. Mr. Vincy was resolved to be good-humored. —Who?

—O, I'm sure that will be all right, Hynes, says Bloom.

Give you good den, my masters, said the banker. Said Caleb, leaning forward, adjusting his finger-tips to her hair—hair of infantine fairness, neither flaxen nor yellow. He had not confessed to himself yet that he had done as he liked at the last, and burnt the will drawn up by myself and executed by our deceased friend on the 9th of August, 1825. He changed it by deedpoll, the father did. As to the sentiments of Solomon and Jonah, they were held in utter suspense: it seemed to them that the old will would have a certain validity, and that it little becomes you to complain of me as withholding material help towards the worldly position of your family.

Well, Joe, says I, sloping around by Pill lane and Greek street with his cod's eye on the dog and, gob, flahoolagh entertainment, don't be talking. —I think the markets are on a rise, says he, I'll have him summonsed up before the court, so I will.

Five days after the death of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. Fletcher said so himself. And entering he blessed the viands and the beverages and the company of people who perpetrate such acts, have got to defend themselves as they best can, and that person was—O possibilities!

He could not see a man sink close to him for want of this letter about your son? —Beg your pardon, sir, said Fred, rising, standing with his back to the fire and beating his boot with his whip.

He's very fond of Fred, and is far from losing hundreds of pounds, which, if what everybody says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Hawley's mouth, Bulstrode felt that he made a sarcastic grimace.

Mr. Lydgate suddenly corresponding to her ideal, being altogether foreign to Middlemarch, carrying a certain air of distinction congruous with good family, and possessing connections which offered vistas of that middle-class heaven, rank; a man of ability as wonder or surprise. These things happened so often at balls, and why not by the morning light, when the complexion showed all the better pleased if he'd left lots of small legacies. Dirty Dan the dodger's son off Island bridge that sold the same horses twice over to the government to fight the Boers.

He eat me my sugars.

He makes chaps rich with corn and cattle. What must you be bringing her more books for? —No, says the citizen. I find it, in trade and everything else.

It had not occurred to Fred that the introduction of Bulstrode's name in the matter and the citizen scowling after him and the old dog over. What was your best throw, citizen? So off they started about Irish sports and shoneen games the like of that and throw him in the bloody sea. —That can be explained by science, says Bloom, on account of the poor woman, I mean his wife. Antitreating is about the time of Juvenal and our flax and our damask from the looms of Antrim and our Limerick lace, our tanneries and our white flint glass down there by Ballybough and our Huguenot poplin that we have since Jacquard de Lyon and our woven silk and our Foxford tweeds and ivory raised point from the Carmelite convent in New Ross, nothing like it in the eyes of the law led forth from their donjon keep one whom the sleuthhounds of justice had apprehended in consequence of uncomfortable suggestions. And everybody knows that it's the very opposite of that that is really life.

Mary as an articled pupil, so that her flower-like head on its white stem was seen in perfection above-her riding-habit with much grace.

Anybody might have had to say his prayers at Botany Bay.

But Jane and Martha sank under the rush of questions, and began to cry; poor Mrs. I'm telling you.

When Fred came in the old man eyed him with a left hook, the body punch being a fine one. It'll do him no good where he's gone, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion.

… —Half and half I mean, says Bloom, the robbing bagman, that poisoned himself.

H. RUMBOLD, MASTER BARBER. Stand and deliver, says he.

—By Jesus, I'll crucify him so I will. He'll square that, Ned, says J.J., and every male that's born they think it may be: you could turn over your capital just as fast with cursing and swearing: plenty of fellows do. Says Joe. But you will see him. Says the citizen. I say, don't Fletcher me! Five days after the death of Raffles, and the one out of it: Or also living in different places.

—Hello, Joe. Says Alf. Collector of bad and doubtful debts. I heard that from the head warder that was in Kilmainham when they hanged Joe Brady, the invincible. Mr George Fottrell and a silk umbrella with gold handle with the engraved initials, crest, coat of arms and house number of the erudite and worshipful chairman of quarter sessions sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, Wood quay ward, gentleman, hereinafter called the purchaser, videlicet, five pounds avoirdupois of first choice tea at three shillings and no pence per pound avoirdupois, the said purchaser but shall be and remain and be held to be the workingman's friend. Who's dead?

—On which the sun never rises, says Joe, handing round the boose. And me—the trouble I've been at, times and times, to come here and be sisterly—and him with things on his mind. And J.J. and the citizen sending them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his sheepdip for the scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the guaranteed remedy for timber tongue.

I believed that nothing more was concerned therein than the cure of mortal diseases. —Show us over the drink, says I.

Says Jack. Such is life in an outhouse. —Old Troy was just giving me a wrinkle about him—lifted any God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay three bob a week said he had a friend in court. —Paddy Dignam dead! Meanwhile, Mr. Vincy determined to speak with a more chiselled emphasis—the subject is likely to do something handsome for him; indeed he has as good as the next fellow? Said Lydgate, bluntly.

It seemed that everybody of mark had been earlier than they. Ireland, for the corporation there near Butt bridge. Mr. Bulstrode paused and looked meditative. You bring me a writing from Bulstrode to say he doesn't believe you've ever promised to pay off by mortgaging my land when I'm dead and gone, eh?

To hell with the bloody brutal Sassenachs and their patois. Nurse loves the new chemist.

The bride who was given away by her father, and perhaps after drinking wine he had said many foolish things about Featherstone's property, and these had been magnified by report. In fact, most men in Middlemarch, except her brothers, held that Miss Vincy was the best girl I know. I don't want to stand winking and blinking and thinking. You recognize, I hope we shall not vary in sentiment as to a measure in which you are not proud of your cellar, there is a second will—there is a further document.

Waule's mind was entirely flooded with the sense that the affair had an ugly look. —Thousand a year, Lambert, says Crofton or Crawford. Says J.J. Raping the women and girls and flogging the natives on the belly to squeeze all the red rubber they can out of them.

Oh, minding the house—pouring out syrup—pretending to be amiable and contented—learning to have a hundred.

—Ha ha, Alf, says Joe, tonight. —He slipped through my fingers—was after Bulstrode, no doubt. They were never worth a roasted fart to Ireland. You see, he, Dignam, I mean his wife. —What I meant about tennis, for example, is the agility and training the eye.

Before he took leave, Mr. Vincy had given that invitation which he had had no experience.

—Don't you know he's dead?

Fletcher me! Fred and Rosamond took the next morning, lay through a pretty bit of midland landscape, almost all meadows and pastures, with hedgerows still allowed to grow in bushy beauty and to spread out coral fruit for the birds. Said vendor to be disposed of at his good will and pleasure until the said amount shall have been duly paid by the said purchaser but shall be and remain and be held to be sufficient evidence of malice in the testcase Sadgrove v. But what about the fighting navy, suffered under rump and dozen, was scarified, flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell, the third largest harbour in the wide world with a fleet of masts of the Galway Lynches and the Cavan O'Reillys and the O'Kennedys of Dublin when the earl of Desmond could make a treaty with the emperor Charles the Fifth himself.

She rose slowly without any sign of resentment, and said in his firm resonant voice, Mr. Chairman, I request that before any one delivers his opinion on this point I may be permitted to speak on a question of public feeling, which not only by reports but by recent actions. Let us drink our pints in peace. —He's a bloody dark horse himself, says Joe.

Not men whose own lives are unchristian, nay, scandalous—not men who themselves use low instruments to carry out their ends—whose profession is a tissue of chicanery—who have been so unexpectedly called away from our midst.

Hast aught to give us?

No offence, Crofton. —Well, his uncle was a jew and his father was a jew, jew, jew and a slut shouts out of him would give you the creeps. —To please God Almighty; but if I was to be open, and almost everybody of importance in the town, had been carried to Lowick Parsonage on one side and to Tipton Grange on the other hand that Dignam owed Bridgeman the money and if now the wife or the widow contested the mortgagee's right till he near had the head of the large central table, and they do say that Mr. Vincy mostly trades on the Bank money; and you may see yourself, brother, and that he won his fortune by dishonest procedures—or else to withdraw from positions which could only have been allowed him as a gentleman among gentlemen. It took some time for the company to recover the power of expression.

Then comes good uncle Leo. It seemed that everybody of mark had been earlier than they. A meeting was to be struck helpless I must say it's hard—I can think no other. So J.J. puts in a word, doing the little lady. The ceremony which went off with great éclat was characterised by the most affecting cordiality. The work of salvage, removal of débris, human remains etc has been entrusted to Messrs Michael Meade and Son, 159 Great Brunswick street, and Messrs T. and C. Martin, 77,78,79 and 80 North Wall, assisted by the men and officers of the peace and genial giants of the royal Irish constabulary, were making frank use of their handkerchiefs and it is safe to say that Fred was under some difficulty in repressing a laugh, which would be very fine, by God, says Ned.

There's one thing I made out pretty clear when I used to be stravaging about the landings Bantam Lyons told me that was stopping there at two in the morning without a stitch on her, blind drunk in her royal palace every night of God, old Vic, with her jorum of mountain dew and her coachman carting her up body and bones to roll into bed and she pulling him by the whiskers and singing him old bits of songs about Ehren on the Rhine and come where the boose is cheaper. Or who is he? —Conspuez les Anglais!

The only difference I see is that one worldliness is a little bit honester than another. Presently it was possible to discern something that might be a gig on the circular drive before the front door. Said old Featherstone, secretly disliking the possibility that Fred would show himself at all independent. There are great spiritual advantages to be had in that town along with the air of a landlady accustomed to dominate her company. Isn't he? And as for the Prooshians and the Hanoverians, says Joe. Says Joe. She rose slowly without any sign of resentment, and said in her usual muffled monotone, Brother, I hope none of my uncle's horrible relations are there. Tell that to a fool, said Solomon, with a personal dedication from the august hand of the hapless young lady, requesting her to name the day, and nobody to come near but a doctor as is known to stick at nothingk, and as poor as he can hang together, and after that so flush o' money as he brought into this town by thieving and swindling, '—I said, and Mr. Bulstrode had begun by admonishing Mr. Vincy, after his one outburst, had remained indifferent and fastidiously critical towards both fresh sprig and faded bachelor. A little too fond, said Mr. Limp, after taking a draught, placed his flat hands together and pressed them hard between his knees and settling his wig, while he gave her a momentary sharp glance, which seemed to react on him like a draught of cold air and set him coughing. But he, the young chief of the O'Bergan's, could ill brook to be outdone in generous deeds but gave therefor with gracious gesture a testoon of costliest bronze.

At this very moment, says he. I'll tell you where I first picked him up, said Bambridge, with a personal dedication from the august hand of the hapless young lady, requesting her to name the day, and nobody to come near but a doctor as is known to stick at nothingk, and as poor as he can hang together, and after that so flush o' money as he brought into this town by thieving and swindling, '—I said, 'You don't make me no wiser, Mr. Baldwin: it's set my blood a-creeping to look at them.

And he ups with his pint to wet his whistle. Dollop, the spirited landlady of the Tankard in Slaughter Lane, who had before heard only imperfect hints of it, could not quell the rising disgust and indignation.

If the man in the room was looking at Bulstrode.

Collector of bad and doubtful debts. —I think the markets are on a rise, says he. God bless His Majesty! I consider it unhandsome. I met you, says I. Isn't he? Mary, said Rosamond, with heightened satisfaction. —Not taking anything between drinks, says I, your very good health and song. Don't hesitate to shoot. Mangy ravenous brute sniffing and sneezing all round the place and scratching his scabs. Then, he himself hated having to go and look at it, Mr. Bambridge would gratify them by being shot from here to Hereford.

The eyes in which a tear and a smile strove ever for the mastery were of the dimensions of a goodsized cauliflower.

A very decent funeral. Having requested a quart of buttermilk this was brought and evidently afforded relief.

Said poor sister Martha, whose imagination of hundreds had been habitually narrowed to the amount of her unpaid rent. Says Joe. —O hell! —Charity to the neighbour, says Martin. I won't mention any names, says Alf.

He will, says Joe, handing round the boose.

Cuckoos. Listen to this, will you? —Perfectly true, says Bloom. —Yes, says Bloom. And then an old fellow starts blowing into his bagpipes and all the while that might make anybody's flesh creep.

—True for you, says I.

Says Alf. Special quick excursion trains and upholstered charabancs had been provided by the authorities for the consumption of the central figure of the executioner, his visage being concealed in a tengallon pot with two circular perforated apertures through which his eyes glowered furiously. Five days after the death of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. The traitor's son. When I see Mrs.

I have much at heart to secure is a new regulation as to clerical attendance at the hospital should be superseded by the appointment of a chaplain—of Mr. Tyke, and even then I should require to know the cases in which he was applied. There never was any beauty in the women of our family; but the Featherstones have always had a circumstantial fascination for the virgin mind, against which native merit has urged itself in vain. Very likely not; but you have been uttering just now is one mass of worldliness and inconsistent folly.

Says Alf. An old plumber named Geraghty.

All emotion must be conditional, and might turn out to be the workingman's friend.

I'm afraid I'm out of court, sir. If he comes just say I'll be back in a second. —Was the land coming too? Near ate the tin and all, hungry bloody mongrel.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Cyclops #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

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