"More put out about a hole in her stocking." (U13.998)
"Molly, her underjaw stuck out, head back, about the farmer in the ridingboots and spurs at the horse show." (U13.998)

Bloom is referring to the Dublin Horse Show, a yearly equestrian event sponsored by the Royal Dublin Society (RDS). This PC shows J. Doyle's Moyglass, Celebrated Prize Winner of the Dublin Horse Show in 1904.
The first Dublin Horse Show was organized in 1864 by the Royal Agricultural Society of Ireland, under the auspices of the RDS; it had 366 entries with a total prize fund of £520. It was mainly a show of led-horses, with some 'leaping' demonstrations. Ass and mule classes were listed! In 1868 the RDS itself organized the show, on the Lawns of Leinster House. In 1869 'horse leaping' came to prominence. In 1870 the event was renamed 'The National Horse Show'. In 1881 the site was moved from Leinster Lawn to Ballsbridge. This PC (photo by Lafayette) shows 'Judging' at the DHS of 1904.
This later PC, printed by Hely's, shows Hunters Parading in Jumping Enclosure at the RDS Show. Since started in 1864, the Show has been held annually except 1914 - 1919 (WW1) and 1940 - 1946 (WW2). Now called The Fáilte Ireland Dublin Horse Show, it remains Ireland's largest equestrian event, and a major summer social event. In 2004, over 1,400 horses and ponies competed in 127 categories; some £500,000 and 52 cups and trophies were awarded to the winners.
"And when the painters were in Lombard street west. Fine voice that fellow had. How Giuglini began." (U13.1000)
"Smell that I did, like flowers. It was too. Violets. Came from the turpentine probably in the paint. Make their own use of everything. Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the floor so they wouldn't hear. But lots of them can't kick the beam, I think. Keep that thing up for hours. Kind of a general all round over me and half down my back." (U13.1001)
"Wait. Hm. Hm. Yes. That's her perfume. Why she waved her hand. I leave you this to think of me when I'm far away on the pillow. What is it? Heliotrope? No, Hyacinth? Hm. Roses, I think. She'd like scent of that kind. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. Why Molly likes opoponax. Suits her, with a little jessamine mixed. Yes, it is. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning, smell them leagues off." (U13.1007)
"Her high notes and her low notes." (U13.1011)
"At the dance night she met him, dance of the hours. Heat brought it out." (U13.1011)
"She was wearing her black and it had the perfume of the time before. Good conductor, is it? Or bad? Light too. Suppose there's some connection. For instance if you go into a cellar where it's dark. Mysterious thing too. Why did I smell it only now? Took its time in coming like herself, slow but sure. Suppose it's ever so many millions of tiny grains blown across." (U13.1012)
"Tell you what it is. It's like a fine fine veil or web they have all over the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer and they're aways spinning it out of them, fine as anything," (U13.1019)
"like rainbow colours without knowing it. Clings to everything she takes off. Vamp of her stockings. Warm shoe. Stays. Drawers: little kick, taking them off. Byby till next time. Also the cat likes to sniff in her shift on the bed. Know her smell in a thousand. Bathwater too." (U13.1021)
"Reminds me of strawberries and cream. Wonder where it is really. There or the armpits or under the neck. Because you get it out of all holes and corners. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something. Muskrat. Bag under their tails. One grain pour off odour for years. (U13.1025)
"-Dogs at each other behind. Good evening. Evening. How do you sniff? Hm. Hm. Very well, thank you. Animals go by that. Yes now, look at it that way. We're the same. Some women, instance, warn you off when they have their period." (U13.1028)
"Come near. Then get a hogo you could hang your hat on. Like what? Potted herrings gone stale or. Boof! Please keep off the grass." (U13.1032)
"Perhaps they get a man smell off us. What though? Cigary gloves long John had on his desk the other. Breath? What you eat and drink gives that. No. Mansmell, I mean. Must be connected with that because priests that are supposed to be are different. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. Railed off the altar get on to it at any cost. The tree of forbidden priest. O father, will you? Let me be the first to. That diffuses itself all through the body, permeates. Source of life. And it's extremely curious the smell. Celery sauce. Let me." (U13.1034)