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And Pius IX his predecessor's motto was Crux upon Crux that is, Cross upon Cross to show the difference between their two pontificates." The inference was allowed. Mr. Cunningham continued. "Pope Leo, you know, was a great scholar and a poet." "He had a strong face," said Mr. Kernan. "Yes," said Mr. Cunningham. "He wrote Latin poetry." "Is that so?" said Mr. Fogarty. Mr.
Better turn down here. Make a detour. Mr Kernan turned and walked down the slope of Watling street by the corner of Guinness's visitors' waitingroom. Outside the Dublin Distillers Company's stores an outside car without fare or jarvey stood, the reins knotted to the wheel. Damn dangerous thing. Some Tipperary bosthoon endangering the lives of the citizens. Runaway horse.
Power, laughing. "Well, this great German cardinal, whatever his name was, was one; and the other was John MacHale." "What?" cried Mr. Kernan. "Is it John of Tuam?" "Are you sure of that now?" asked Mr. Fogarty dubiously. "I thought it was some Italian or American." "John of Tuam," repeated Mr. Cunningham, "was the man." He drank and the other gentlemen followed his lead.
Simultaneously the congregation unsettled, produced handkerchiefs and knelt upon them with care. Mr. Kernan followed the general example. The priest's figure now stood upright in the pulpit, two-thirds of its bulk, crowned by a massive red face, appearing above the balustrade. Father Purdon knelt down, turned towards the red speck of light and, covering his face with his hands, prayed.
Kernan, we're going to make your man here a good holy pious and God-fearing Roman Catholic." He swept his arm round the company inclusively. "We're all going to make a retreat together and confess our sins and God knows we want it badly." "I don't mind," said Mr. Kernan, smiling a little nervously. Mrs. Kernan thought it would be wiser to conceal her satisfaction.
The swaying movement of the car brought the match to and from the opened mouth. The lower teeth and gums were covered with clotted blood and a minute piece of the tongue seemed to have been bitten off. The match was blown out. "That's ugly," said Mr. Power. "Sha, 's nothing," said Mr. Kernan, closing his mouth and pulling the collar of his filthy coat across his neck. Mr.
No one entertained a doubt of the result, but Governor Hendricks, Senator Bayard, General Hancock, Joel Parker, and Governor Allen, were formally named by their respective States. Mr. Tilden was effectively presented by Senator Kernan. The first ballot practically decided the contest. Mr. Tilden received 404½, Mr.
Secret eyes, secretsearching. Mason, I think: not sure. Beside him again. We are the last. In the same boat. Hope he'll say something else. Mr Kernan added: The service of the Irish church used in Mount Jerome is simpler, more impressive I must say. Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. The language of course was another thing. Mr Kernan said with solemnity: I am the resurrection and the life.
North wall and sir John Rogerson's quay, with hulls and anchorchains, sailing westward, sailed by a skiff, a crumpled throwaway, rocked on the ferrywash, Elijah is coming. Mr Kernan glanced in farewell at his image. High colour, of course. Grizzled moustache. Returned Indian officer. Bravely he bore his stumpy body forward on spatted feet, squaring his shoulders.
Cunningham. He also drank from his glass. "Well, you know," said Mr. M'Coy, "isn't the photograph wonderful when you come to think of it?" "O, of course," said Mr. Power, "great minds can see things." "As the poet says: Great minds are very near to madness," said Mr. Fogarty. Mr. Kernan seemed to be troubled in mind.
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