Улисс
Chapter 3
IforgetnofatherandIalwaysthinkoftherealfatherwhatdidhewanttoknowforwhenIalreadyconfessedittoGodhehadanicefathandthepalmmoistalwaysIwouldntmindfeelingitneitherwouldheIdsaybythebullneckinhishorsecollarIwonderdidheknowmeintheboxIcouldseehisfacehecouldntseemineofcoursehedneverturnorletonstillhiseyeswereredwhenhisfatherdiedtheyrelostforawomanofcoursemustbeterriblewhenamancriesletalonethemIdliketobeembracedbyoneinhisvestmentsandthesmellofincenseoffhimlikethepopebesidestheresnodangerwithapriestifyouremarriedhestoocarefulabouthimselfthengivesomethingtoHHthepopeforapenanceIwonderwashesatisfiedwithmeonethingIdidntlikehisslappingmebehindgoingawaysofamiliarlyinthehallthoughIlaughedImnotahorseoranassamIIsupposehewasthinkingofhisfathersIwonderisheawakethinkingofmeordreamingamIinitwhogavehimthatflowerhesaidheboughthesmeltofsomekindofdrinknotwhiskyorstoutorperhapsthesweetykindofpastetheysticktheirbillsupwithsomeliqueurIdliketosipthoserichlookinggreenandyellowexpensivedrinksthosestagedoorjohnniesdrinkwiththeoperahatsItastedoncewithmyfingerdippedoutofthatAmericanthathadthesquirreltalkingstampswithfatherhehadallhecoulddotokeephimselffromfallingasleepafterthelasttimeafterwetooktheportandpottedmeatithadafinesaltytasteyesbecauseIfeltlovelyandtiredmyselfandfellasleepassoundasatopthemomentIpoppedstraightintobedtillthatthunderwokemeupGodbemerciful
