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Joyce, James, 1882-1941

"Ulysses"

Quite
right. They ought to.
--Yes, Mr Bloom said, and another thing I often thought, is to have
municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you know. Run the line
out to the cemetery gates and have special trams, hearse and carriage and
all. Don't you see what I mean?
--O, that be damned for a story, Mr Dedalus said. Pullman car and saloon
diningroom.
--A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power added.
--Why? Mr Bloom asked, turning to Mr Dedalus. Wouldn't it be more
decent than galloping two abreast?
--Well, there's something in that, Mr Dedalus granted.
--And, Martin Cunningham said, we wouldn't have scenes like that when
the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin on to the road.
--That was terrible, Mr Power's shocked face said, and the corpse fell
about the road. Terrible!
--First round Dunphy's, Mr Dedalus said, nodding. Gordon Bennett cup.
--Praises be to God! Martin Cunningham said piously.
Bom! Upset. A coffin bumped out on to the road. Burst open. Paddy
Dignam shot out and rolling over stiff in the dust in a brown habit too
large for him. Red face: grey now.


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