"Hard as nails at a bargain, old Tweedy. Yes, sir. At Plevna that was. I rose from the ranks, sir, and I'm proud of it." (U4.63)
"Still he had brains enough to make that corner in stamps. Now that was farseeing." (U4.64)
Tweedy must have smartly invested in stamps. Here an ad in M.A.P. (1901) offering "collections and rarities."
"The sun was nearing the steeple of George's church. Be a warm day I fancy. Specially in these black clothes feel it more. Black conducts, reflects (refracts is it?) the heat. But I couldn't go in that light suit. Make a picnic of it. His eyelids sank quietly often as he walked in happy warmth." (U4.78)
St George's church, on Hardwicke Place, is an Anglican church. It was designed by the architect Francis Johnston (1760 - 1829), to whom Dublin also owes the General Post Office and the renovated Viceregal Lodge. It was built 1802 - 1813, and was consecrated in 1814.
Also, when reference is made to churches, notice "the curious fashion in which the Dublin citizens omit the prefix Saint. It is not unusual to hear the National Cathedral referred to as 'Patrick's,' and the Parish Churches as Catherine's, Mary's, Werburgh's etc. The Roman Catholic churches are commonly designated by the use of the locality in which they are built, as Clarendon Street, Whitefriars Street, Westland Row, etc" (SOF, 1907)
This PC shows the interior of George's church. In recent years, with migration of parishioners from the inner city to the suburbs, St George's was increasingly deserted. After 176 years of religious services, a final mass was held on April 29th 1990. The building is now the Temple Theater.
"Boland's breadvan delivering with trays" (4.82)
"our daily but she prefers yesterday's loaves turnovers crisp crowns hot. Makes you feel young. Somewhere in the east: early morning: set off at dawn. Travel round in front of the sun, steal a day's march on him. Keep it up for ever never grow a day older technically. Walk along a strand, strange land, come to a city gate, sentry there, old ranker too, old Tweedy's big moustaches, leaning on a long kind of a spear." (4.82)
"Wander through awned streets. Turbaned faces going by." (U4.88)
"Dark caves of carpet shops, big man, Turko the terrible, seated crosslegged smoking a coiled pipe." (U4.89)
"Cries of sellers in the streets." (U4.90)
"Drink water scented with fennel, sherbet. Wander along all day. Might meet a robber or two. Well, meet him. Getting on to sundown. The shadows of the mosques among the pillars: priest with a scroll rolled up. A shiver of the trees, signal, the evening wind. I pass on. Fading gold sky. A mother watches me from her doorway. She calls her children home in their dark language. High wall: beyond strings twanged. Night sky, moon, violet, colour of Molly's new garters. Strings. Listen. A girl playing one of those instruments what do you call them: dulcimers. I pass.
Probably not a bit like it really. Kind of stuff you read: in the track of the sun. Sunburst on the titlepage. He smiled, pleasing himself. " (U4.90)
[Image courtesy of the ZJJF]
"What Arthur Griffith said about the headpiece over the Freeman leader: a homerule sun rising up in the northwest from the laneway behind the bank of Ireland. He prolonged his pleased smile. Ikey touch that: homerule sun rising up in the northwest." (U4.101)
"He approached Larry O'Rourke's. From the cellar grating floated up the flabby gush of porter. Through the open doorway the bar squirted out whiffs of ginger, teadust, biscuitmush. Good house, however: just the end of the city traffic. For instance M'Auley's down there: n.g. as position." (U4.105)
N.g. = not good
"Of course if they ran a tramline along the North Circular from the cattlemarket to the quays value would go up like a shot.
Bald head over the blind. Cute old codger. No use canvassing him for an ad. Still he knows his own business best. There he is, sure enough, my bold Larry, leaning against the sugarbin in his shirtsleeves watching the aproned curate swab up with mop and bucket. Simon Dedalus takes him off to a tee with his eyes screwed up. Do you know what I'm going to tell you? What's that, Mr O'Rourke? Do you know what?" (U4.108)
"The Russians, they'd only be an eight o'clock breakfast for the Japanese." (U4.116)
Russia and Japan were at war in 1904. The Russo-Japanese war (1904 - 1905) grew out of the rivalry of the 2 countries for control of Manchuria and the Yellow Sea, and ended with a Japanese victory. Russia had a larger army but suffered successive defeats, and also had to deal with its internal revolution. This SV shows the Japanese army on the way to the front.
A peace alliance (illustrated on this PC) was mediated by U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt as the Treaty of Portsmouth, signed on September 5th 1905. The Russo-Japanese war was the first major victory in the modern era of an Asian country over a Western one. Japan's prestige rose greatly as it began to be considered a modern Great Power.
"Stop and say a word: about the funeral perhaps. Sad thing about poor Dignam, Mr O'Rourke.
Turning into Dorset street he said freshly in greeting through the doorway:
- Good day, Mr O'Rourke.
- Good day to you.
- Lovely weather, sir.
- 'Tis all that.
Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the county Leitrim, rinsing empties and old man in the cellar." (U4.118)