—­Two apples a penny!  Two for a penny!

His gaze passed over the glazed apples serried on her stand.  Australians they must be this time of year.  Shiny peels:  polishes them up with a rag or a handkerchief.

Wait.  Those poor birds.

He halted again and bought from the old applewoman two Banbury cakes for a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down into the Liffey.  See that?  The gulls swooped silently, two, then all from their heights, pouncing on prey.  Gone.  Every morsel.

Aware of their greed and cunning he shook the powdery crumb from his hands.  They never expected that.  Manna.  Live on fish, fishy flesh they have, all seabirds, gulls, seagoose.  Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves.  No accounting for tastes.  Wonder what kind is swanmeat.  Robinson Crusoe had to live on them.

They wheeled flapping weakly.  I’m not going to throw any more.  Penny quite enough.  Lot of thanks I get.  Not even a caw.  They spread foot and mouth disease too.  If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes like that.  Eat pig like pig.  But then why is it that saltwater fish are not salty?  How is that?

His eyes sought answer from the river and saw a rowboat rock at anchor on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board.

Kino’s 11/- trousers

Good idea that.  Wonder if he pays rent to the corporation.  How can you own water really?  It’s always flowing in a stream, never the same, which in the stream of life we trace.  Because life is a stream.  All kinds of places are good for ads.  That quack doctor for the clap used to be stuck up in all the greenhouses.  Never see it now.  Strictly confidential.  Dr Hy Franks.  Didn’t cost him a red like Maginni the dancing master self advertisement.  Got fellows to stick them up or stick them up himself for that matter on the q. t. running in to loosen a button.  Flybynight.  Just the place too.  Post no bills.  Post 110 pills.  Some chap with a dose burning him.

If he ...?

O!

Eh?

No ...  No.

No, no.  I don’t believe it.  He wouldn’t surely?

No, no.

Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes.  Think no more about that.  After one.  Timeball on the ballastoffice is down.  Dunsink time.  Fascinating little book that is of sir Robert Ball’s.  Parallax.  I never exactly understood.  There’s a priest.  Could ask him.  Par it’s Greek:  parallel, parallax.  Met him pike hoses she called it till I told her about the transmigration.  O rocks!

Mr Bloom smiled O rocks at two windows of the ballastoffice.  She’s right after all.  Only big words for ordinary things on account of the sound.  She’s not exactly witty.  Can be rude too.  Blurt out what I was thinking.  Still, I don’t know.  She used to say Ben Dollard had a base barreltone voice.  He has legs like barrels and you’d think he was singing into a barrel.  Now, isn’t that wit.  They used to call him big Ben.  Not half as witty as calling him base barreltone.  Appetite like an albatross.  Get outside of a baron of beef.  Powerful man he was at stowing away number one Bass.  Barrel of Bass.  See?  It all works out.