1 Ulysses
Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and crimsoned
at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that out
loud she’d be ashamed of her life to say, flushing a deep rosy
red, and Edy Boardman said she was sure the gentleman
opposite heard what she said. But not a pin cared Ciss.
—Let him! she said with a pert toss of her head and a pi-
quant tilt of her nose. Give it to him too on the same place
as quick as I’d look at him.
Madcap Ciss with her golliwog curls. You had to laugh at
her sometimes. For instance when she asked you would you
have some more Chinese tea and jaspberry ram and when
she drew the jugs too and the men’s faces on her nails with
red ink make you split your sides or when she wanted to go
where you know she said she wanted to run and pay a visit
to the Miss White. That was just like Cissycums. O, and will
you ever forget her the evening she dressed up in her father’s
suit and hat and the burned cork moustache and walked
down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. There was none
to come up to her for fun. But she was sincerity itself, one of
the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not one of
your twofaced things, too sweet to be wholesome.
And then there came out upon the air the sound of voic-
es and the pealing anthem of the organ. It was the men’s
temperance retreat conducted by the missioner, the rev-
erend John Hughes S. J., rosary, sermon and benediction
of the Most Blessed Sacrament. They were there gathered
together without distinction of social class (and a most edi-
fying spectacle it was to see) in that simple fane beside the
waves, after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before