J. J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words: He said of it: that stony effigy in frozen music, horned and terrible, of the human form divine, that eternal symbol of wisdom and of prophecy which, if aught that the imagination or the hand of sculptor has wrought in marble of soultransfigured and of soultransfiguring deserves to live, deserves to live. His slim hand with a wave graced echo and fall.

Seems to be, J. J. O'Molloy said, taking out a cigarettecase in murmuring meditation, but it is not always as it seems. Who has the most matches? He offered a cigarette to the professor and took one himself. Lenehan promptly struck a match for them and lit their cigarettes in turn. J. J. O'Molloy opened his case again and offered it. Thanky vous, Lenehan said, helping himself.

By the way how did he find that out? He died in his sleep. Or the other story, beast with two backs? What was that? the professor asked. He spoke on the law of evidence, J. J. O'Molloy said, of Roman justice as contrasted with the earlier Mosaic code, the lex talionis. And he cited the Moses of Michelangelo in the vatican. Ha. A few wellchosen words, Lenehan prefaced. Silence! Pause.

Out of this with you, professor MacHugh said gruffly. He hustled the boy out and banged the door to. J. J. O'Molloy turned the files crackingly over, murmuring, seeking: Continued on page six, column four. Yes, Evening Telegraph here, Mr Bloom phoned from the inner office. Is the boss...? Yes, Telegraph... To where? Aha! Which auction rooms ?... Aha! I see... Right. I'll catch him.

Stephen raised his eyes to the bold unheeding stare. He wants you for the pressgang, J. J. O'Molloy said. You can do it, Myles Crawford repeated, clenching his hand in emphasis. Wait a minute. We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher used to say when he was on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Clarence. Gallaher, that was a pressman for you. That was a pen.

One Parsons, an English settler in Ireland, had written to a friend to say, among other things, that the head of a colonel of an Irish regiment then in the field against the English would not be allowed to stick long on its shoulders. The letter was intercepted by the very regiment itself, and a captain in it, Felim O'Molloy, wrote back to Parsons: "I will doe this, if you please.

Bedell had also caused to be published Gaelic translations of certain homilies of Saint Leo and Saint John Chrysostom, on the importance of studying the holy Scriptures. The only other Gaelic publications of this period were issued from the Irish colleges at Louvain and Rome. Thence issued the devotional tracts of Conroy, of Gernon, and O'Molloy, and the Irish grammars of O'Clery and Stapleton.

He closed his long thin lips an instant but, eager to be on, raised an outspanned hand to his spectacles and, with trembling thumb and ringfinger touching lightly the black rims, steadied them to a new focus. In ferial tone he addressed J. J. O'Molloy: Taylor had come there, you must know, from a sickbed.

The letter was intercepted by the very regiment itself, and a captain in it, Felim O'Molloy, wrote back to Parsons: "I will do this if you please: I will pick out sixty men and fight against one hundred of your choice men if you do but pitch your camp one mile out of your town, and then if you have the victory, you may threaten my Colonel; otherwise, do not reckon your chickens before they are hatched."

A bevy of scampering newsboys rushed down the steps, scattering in all directions, yelling, their white papers fluttering. Hard after them Myles Crawford appeared on the steps, his hat aureoling his scarlet face, talking with J. J. O'Molloy. Come along, the professor cried, waving his arm. He set off again to walk by Stephen's side. Yes, he said. I see them.