- That'll do, game ball, Blazes Boylan said.
She bestowed fat pears neatly, head by tail, and among them ripe shamefaced peaches." (U10.303)
He turned suddenly from a chip of strawberries, drew a gold watch from his fob and held it at its chain's length." (U10.310)
A darkbacked figure under Merchants' arch scanned books on the hawker's cart.
— Certainly, sir. Is it in the city?
— O, yes, Blazes Boylan said. Ten minutes." (U10.314)
— Will you write the address, sir?
Blazes Boylan at the counter wrote and pushed the docket to her.
— Send it at once, will you? he said. It's for an invalid.
— Yes, sir. I will, sir." (U10.319)
— What's the damage? he asked." (U10.324)
Blazes Boylan looked into the cut of her blouse. A young pullet." (U10.326)
- This for me? he asked gallantly.
The blond girl glanced sideways at him, got up regardless, with his tie a bit crooked, blushing." (U10.327)
He gazed over Stephen's shoulder at Goldsmith's knobby poll." (U10.338)
Goldsmith earned his Bachelor of Arts at Trinity College (1749), studying theology and law. He later studied (medicine) at the Univ of Edinburgh and the Univ of Leiden, and at the Univ of Padua (1755 and 1757) then toured Europe, living on his wits.
He then settled in London and worked as an apothecary's assistant. Perennially in debt and addicted to gam/bling, Goldsmith had a massive output as a hack writer for the publishers of London, but his few painstaking works earned him the company of Samuel Johnson, along with whom he was a founding member of 'The Club'. He is buried in Temple Church.