f extreme beauty, had enjoyed
the distinction of being in service in the washkitchen. This therefore
was the reason why the still comparatively young though dissolute
man who now addressed Stephen was spoken of by some with facetious
proclivities as Lord John Corley.

Taking Stephen on one side he had the customary doleful ditty to tell.
Not as much as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings. His friends
had all deserted him. Furthermore he had a row with Lenehan and called
him to Stephen a mean bloody swab with a sprinkling of a number of other
uncalledfor expressions. He was out of a job and implored of Stephen to
tell him where on God's earth he could get something, anything at all,
to do. No, it was the daughter of the mother in the washkitchen that
was fostersister to the heir of the house or else they were connected
through the mother in some way, both occurrences happening at the same
time if the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to
finish. Anyhow he was all in.

--I wouldn't ask you only, pursued he, on my solemn oath and God knows
I'm on the rocks.

--There'll be a job tomorrow or next day, Stephen told him, in a boys'
school at Dalkey for a gentleman usher. Mr Garrett Deasy. Try it. You
may mention my name.

--Ah, God, Corley replied, sure I couldn't teach in a school, man. I was
never one of your bright ones, he added with a half laugh. I got stuck
twice in the junior at the christian brothers.

--I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen informed him.

Corley at the first go-off was inclined to suspect it was something to
do with Stephen being fired out of his digs for bringing in a bloody
tart off the street. There was a dosshouse in Marlborough street, Mrs
Maloney's, but it was only a tanner touch and full of undesirables but
M'Conachie told him you got a decent enough do in the Brazen Head over
in Winetavern street (which was distantly suggestive to the person
addressed of friar Bacon) for a bob. He was starving too though he
hadn't said a word about it.

Though this sort of thing went on every other night or very near it
still Stephen's feelings got the better of him in a sense though he knew
that Corley's brandnew rigmarole on a par with the others was hardly
deserving of much credence. However _haud ignarus malorum miseris
succurrere disco_ etcetera as the Latin poet remarks especially as luck
would have it he got paid his screw after every middle of the month on
the sixtee