he pool under it brought back to his memory the dark
turf-coloured water of the bath in Clongowes. The box of pawn tickets
at his elbow had just been rifled and he took up idly one after another
in his greasy fingers the blue and white dockets, scrawled and sanded
and creased and bearing the name of the pledger as Daly or MacEvoy.

1 Pair Buskins.
1 D. Coat.
3 Articles and White.
1 Man's Pants.

Then he put them aside and gazed thoughtfully at the lid of the box,
speckled with louse marks, and asked vaguely:

--How much is the clock fast now?

His mother straightened the battered alarm clock that was lying on its
side in the middle of the mantelpiece until its dial showed a quarter
to twelve and then laid it once more on its side.

--An hour and twenty-five minutes, she said. The right time now is
twenty past ten. The dear knows you might try to be in time for your
lectures.

--Fill out the place for me to wash, said Stephen.

--Katey, fill out the place for Stephen to wash.

--Boody, fill out the place for Stephen to wash.

--I can't, I'm going for blue. Fill it out, you, Maggy.

When the enamelled basin had been fitted into the well of the sink and
the old washing glove flung on the side of it he allowed his mother to
scrub his neck and root into the folds of his ears and into the
interstices at the wings of his nose.

--Well, it's a poor case, she said, when a university student is so
dirty that his mother has to wash him.

--But it gives you pleasure, said Stephen calmly.

An ear-splitting whistle was heard from upstairs and his mother thrust
a damp overall into his hands, saying:

--Dry yourself and hurry out for the love of goodness.

A second shrill whistle, prolonged angrily, brought one of the girls to
the foot of the staircase.

--Yes, father?

--Is your lazy bitch of a brother gone out yet?

--Yes, father.

--Sure?

--Yes, father.

--Hm!

The girl came back, making signs to him to be quick and go out quietly
by the back. Stephen laughed and said:

--He has a curious idea of genders if he thinks a bitch is masculine.

--Ah, it's a scandalous shame for you, Stephen, said his mother, and
you'll live to rue the day you set your foot in that place. I know how
it has changed you.

--Good morning, everybody, said Stephen, smiling and kissing the tips
of his fingers in adieu.

The lane behind the terrace was waterlogged and as he went down it
slowly, choosing his steps am