model
young ladies playing on the pianoforte or anon all with fervour reciting
the family rosary round the crackling YULELOG while in the BOREENS and
green Lanes the COLLEENS with their Swains strolled what times the
strains of the ORGANTONED melodeon Britannia METALBOUND with four acting
stops and twelvefold bellows, A sacrifice, greatest bargain ever...)

(Renewed laughter.  He mumbles incoherently.  Reporters complain that they
cannot hear.)

Longhand and shorthand:  (Without looking up from their notebooks) Loosen his boots.

Professor MACHUGH:  (From the PRESSTABLE, coughs and calls) Cough it up, man.  Get it out in bits.

(The CROSSEXAMINATION proceeds re bloom and the bucket.  A large bucket. 
Bloom himself.  Bowel trouble.  In beaver street gripe, yes.  Quite bad.  A
PLASTERER’S bucket.  By walking STIFFLEGGED. Suffered untold misery. 
Deadly agony.  About noon.  Love or burgundy.  Yes, some spinach.  Crucial
moment.  He did not look in the bucket nobody.  Rather A mess.  Not
completely.  A Titbits back number.)

(Uproar and CATCALLS.  Bloom in A torn frockcoat stained with whitewash, dinged silk hat sideways on his head, A strip of STICKINGPLASTER across his nose, talks inaudibly.)

J. J. O’MOLLOY:  (In BARRISTER’S grey Wig and STUFFGOWN, speaking with A voice of pained protest) This is no place for indecent levity at the expense of an erring mortal disguised in liquor.  We are not in a beargarden nor at an Oxford rag nor is this a travesty of justice.  My client is an infant, a poor foreign immigrant who started scratch as a stowaway and is now trying to turn an honest penny.  The trumped up misdemeanour was due to a momentary aberration of heredity, brought on by hallucination, such familiarities as the alleged guilty occurrence being quite permitted in my client’s native