Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Page 153 (8.332-370) "poet A.E... my way."

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Delaney: [309] [310] Useen: [] [cp] maps: [path] [other] [*]


poet A.E. (Mr Geo Russell). No time to do her hair drinking sloppy tea with a book of poetry.

fd: [309]
Best paper by long chalks for a small ad. Got the provinces now. Cook and general, exc cuisine, housemaid kept. Wanted live man for spirit counter. Resp girl (R.C.) wishes to hear of post in fruit or pork shop. James Carlisle made that. Six and a half per cent dividend. Made a big deal on Coates's shares. Ca'canny. Cunning old Scotch hunks. All the today news. Our gracious and popular vicereine. Bought the Irish Field now. Lady Mountcashel has quite recovered after her confinement and rode out with the Ward Union staghounds at the enlargement yesterday at Rathoath. Uneatable fox. Pothunters too. Fear injects juices make it tender enough for them. Riding astride. Sit her horse like a man. Weightcarrying huntress. No sidesaddle or pillion for her, not for Joe. First to the meet and in at the death. Strong as a brood mare some of those horsey women. Swagger around livery stables. Toss off a glass of brandy neat while you'd say knife. That one at the Grosvenor this morning. Up with her on the car: wishswish. Stonewall or fivebarred gate put her mount to it. Think that pugnosed driver did it out of spite. Who is this she was like? O yes! Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the Shelbourne hotel. Divorced Spanish American. Didn't take a feather out of her my handling them. As if I was her clotheshorse. Saw her in the viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in with Whelan of the Express. Scavenging what the quality left. High tea. Mayonnaise I poured on the plums thinking it was custard. Her ears ought to have tingled for a few weeks after. Want to be a bull for her. Born courtesan. No nursery work for her, thanks.

62yo in 1901

Irish Field: 'devoted to the interests of the Irish turf and Irish steeple-chasing, racing, hunting, coursing, aquatic sports, yachting, rowing, cricket, cycling, angling, shooting, athletic sports, football, polo, &c. ; it forms a complete record of all the sports of the week in Ireland' Saturdays, 3d, founded 1870, published by the Irish Times [cite]


"Not for Joe" context lyrics lyrics sheetmusic

Grosvenor p70
Shelbourne hotel

61yo in 1901

Poor Mrs Purefoy! Methodist husband. Method in his madness. Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in the educational dairy. Y.M.C.A. Eating with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the minute. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Supposed to be well connected. Theodore's cousin in Dublin Castle. One tony relative in every family. Hardy annuals he presents her with. Saw him out at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his eldest boy carrying one in a marketnet. The squallers. Poor thing! Then having to give the breast year after year all hours of the night. Selfish those t.t's are. Dog in the manger. Only one lump of sugar in my tea, if you please.

Mrs Purefoy's husband is almost as odd as Mrs Breen's?
Hamlet II.ii "Though this be madness, yet there is a method in't."

saffron buns
"educational dairy" 1883
"t.t" teetotaller

meta-discussion about annotating this paragraph [pdf]

fd: [310]
He stood at Fleet street crossing. Luncheon interval. A sixpenny at Rowe's? Must look up that ad in the national library. An eightpenny in the Burton. Better. On my way.

Bloom's been making very slow progress
1909 map
StreetView now


mysteries: pic of 3 Jolly Topers

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[IM 23:13-26:16]

[LV1 24:29-27:46]

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lestrygonians: 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175

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