1 Ulysses
made his mark? I’ll tell you. That was the smartest piece
of journalism ever known. That was in eightyone, sixth of
May, time of the invincibles, murder in the Phoenix park,
before you were born, I suppose. I’ll show you.
He pushed past them to the files.
—Look at here, he said turning. The New York World ca-
bled for a special. Remember that time?
Professor MacHugh nodded.
—New York World, the editor said, excitedly push-
ing back his straw hat. Where it took place. Tim Kelly, or
Kavanagh I mean. Joe Brady and the rest of them. Where
Skin-the-Goat drove the car. Whole route, see?
—Skin-the-Goat, Mr O’Madden Burke said. Fitzharris.
He has that cabman’s shelter, they say, down there at Butt
bridge. Holohan told me. You know Holohan?
—Hop and carry one, is it? Myles Crawford said.
—And poor Gumley is down there too, so he told me,
minding stones for the corporation. A night watchman.
Stephen turned in surprise.
—Gumley? he said. You don’t say so? A friend of my fa-
ther’s, is it?
—Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford cried angrily.
Let Gumley mind the stones, see they don’t run away. Look
at here. What did Ignatius Gallaher do? I’ll tell you. Inspira-
tion of genius. Cabled right away. Have you Weekly Freeman
of 17 March? Right. Have you got that?
He flung back pages of the files and stuck his finger on
a point.
—Take page four, advertisement for Bransome’s coffee,