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1We crossed the Liffey in the ferryboat, paying our toll to be transported in the company of two labourers and a little
2Jew with a bag. We were serious to the point of solemnity, but once during the short voyage our eyes met and we laughed.
3When we landed we watched the discharging of the graceful threemaster which we had observed from the other quay. Some
4bystander said that she was a Norwegian vessel. I went to the stern and tried to decipher the legend upon it but,
5failing to do so, I came back and examined the foreign sailors to see had any of them green eyes for I had some confused
6notion.... The sailors' eyes were blue and grey and even black. The only sailor whose eyes could have been called green
7was a tall man who amused the crowd on the quay by calling out cheerfully every time the planks fell: "All right! All
8right!" When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into Ringsend. The day had grown sultry, and in the windows
9of the grocers' shops musty biscuits lay bleaching. We bought some biscuits and chocolate which we ate sedulously as we
10wandered through the squalid streets where the families of the fishermen live. We could find no dairy and so we went
11into a huckster's shop and bought a bottle of raspberry lemonade each. Refreshed by this, Mahony chased a cat down a
12lane, but the cat escaped into a wide field. We both felt rather tired and when we reached the field we made at once for
13a sloping bank over the ridge of which we could see the Dodder. It was too late and we were too tired to carry out our
14project of visiting the Pigeon House. We had to be home before four o'clock lest our adventure should be discovered.
15Mahony looked regretfully at his catapult and I had to suggest going home by train before he regained any cheerfulness.
16The sun went in behind some clouds and left us to our jaded thoughts and the crumbs of our provisions. There was nobody
17but ourselves in the field. When we had lain on the bank for some time without speaking I saw a man approaching from the
18far end of the field. I watched him lazily as I chewed one of those green stems on which girls tell fortunes. He came
19along by the bank slowly. He walked with one hand upon his hip and in the other hand he held a stick with which he
20tapped the turf lightly. He was shabbily dressed in a suit of greenish-black and wore what we used to call a jerry hat
21with a high crown. He seemed to be fairly old for his moustache was ashen-grey. When he passed at our feet he glanced up
22at us quickly and then continued his way. We followed him with our eyes and saw that when he had gone on for perhaps
23fifty paces he turned about and began to retrace his steps. He walked towards us very slowly, always tapping the ground
24with his stick, so slowly that I thought he was looking for something in the grass. He stopped when he came level with
25us and bade us good-day. We answered him and he sat down beside us on the slope slowly and with great care. He began to
26talk of the weather, saying that it would be a very hot summer and adding that the seasons had changed greatly since he
27was a boy--a long time ago. He said that the happiest time of one's life was undoubtedly one's schoolboy days and that
28he would give anything to be young again. While he expressed these sentiments which bored us a little we kept silent.
29Then he began to talk of school and of books. He asked us whether we had read the poetry of Thomas Moore or the works of
30Sir Walter Scott and Lord Lytton. I pretended that I had read every book he mentioned so that in the end he said: "Ah, I
31can see you are a bookworm like myself. Now," he added, pointing to Mahony who was regarding us with open eyes, "he is
32different; he goes in for games." He said he had all Sir Walter Scott's works and all Lord Lytton's works at home and
33never tired of reading them. "Of course," he said, "there were some of Lord Lytton's works which boys couldn't read."
34Mahony asked why couldn't boys read them--a question which agitated and pained me because I was afraid the man would
35think I was as stupid as Mahony. The man, however, only smiled. I saw that he had great gaps in his mouth between his
36yellow teeth. Then he asked us which of us had the most sweethearts. Mahony mentioned lightly that he had three totties.
37The man asked me how many had I. I answered that I had none. He did not believe me and said he was sure I must have one.
38I was silent. "Tell us," said Mahony pertly to the man, "how many have you yourself?" The man smiled as before and said
39that when he was our age he had lots of sweethearts. "Every boy," he said, "has a little sweetheart." His attitude on
40this point struck me as strangely liberal in a man of his age. In my heart I thought that what he said about boys and
41sweethearts was reasonable. But I disliked the words in his mouth and I wondered why he shivered once or twice as if he
42feared something or felt a sudden chill. As he proceeded I noticed that his accent was good. He began to speak to us
43about girls, saying what nice soft hair they had and how soft their hands were and how all girls were not so good as
44they seemed to be if one only knew. There was nothing he liked, he said, so much as looking at a nice young girl, at her
45nice white hands and her beautiful soft hair. He gave me the impression that he was repeating something which he had
46learned by heart or that, magnetised by some words of his own speech, his mind was slowly circling round and round in
47the same orbit. At times he spoke as if he were simply alluding to some fact that everybody knew, and at times he
48lowered his voice and spoke mysteriously as if he were telling us something secret which he did not wish others to
49overhear. He repeated his phrases over and over again, varying them and surrounding them with his monotonous voice. I
50continued to gaze towards the foot of the slope, listening to him. After a long while his monologue paused. He stood up
51slowly, saying that he had to leave us for a minute or so, a few minutes, and, without changing the direction of my
52gaze, I saw him walking slowly away from us towards the near end of the field. We remained silent when he had gone.
53After a silence of a few minutes I heard Mahony exclaim: "I say! Look what he's doing!" As I neither answered nor raised
54my eyes Mahony exclaimed again: "I say.... He's a queer old josser!" "In case he asks us for our names," I said, "let
55you be Murphy and I'll be Smith." We said nothing further to each other. I was still considering whether I would go away
56or not when the man came back and sat down beside us again. Hardly had he sat down when Mahony, catching sight of the
57cat which had escaped him, sprang up and pursued her across the field. The man and I watched the chase. The cat escaped
58once more and Mahony began to throw stones at the wall she had escaladed. Desisting from this, he began to wander about
59the far end of the field, aimlessly.
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