"Mr Power's soft eyes went up to the apex of the lofty cone.
- He's at rest, he said, in the middle of his people, old Dan O'." (U6.642)

The height of the O'Connell monument is given on this PC as 164.5 feet.
Re old Dan O's remains, the CE 1911 states: 'After 1844,' when Daniel O'Connell (1755 - 1847) was prosecuted and briefly imprisoned, 'his health had suffered, and henceforth there was a lack of energy and vigour in his movements. Then came the awful calamity of the famine. O'Connell's last appearance in Parliament was in 1847 when he pathetically asked that his people be saved from perishing. He was then seriously ill. The doctors ordered him to a warmer climate. He felt that he was dying and wished to die at Rome, but got no further than Genoa. In accordance with his wish his heart was brought to Rome and his body to Ireland. His funeral was of enormous dimensions, and since his death a splendid statue has been erected to his memory in Dublin and a round tower placed over his remains in Glasnevin.'
"But his heart is buried in Rome. How many broken hearts are buried here, Simon!
- Her grave is over there, Jack, Mr Dedalus said. I'll soon be stretched beside her. Let Him take me whenever He likes.
Breaking down, he began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little in his walk. Mr Power took his arm." (U6.643)
"- She's better where she is, he said kindly.
- I suppose so, Mr Dedalus said with a weak gasp. I suppose she is in heaven if there is a heaven.
Corny Kelleher stepped aside from his rank and allowed the mourners to plod by.
- Sad occasions, Mr Kernan began politely.
Mr Bloom closed his eyes and sadly twice bowed his head.
- The others are putting on their hats, Mr Kernan said. I suppose we can do so too. We are the last. This cemetery is a treacherous place." (U649)
"They covered their heads.
- The reverend gentleman read the service too quickly, don't you think? Mr Kernan said with reproof.
Mr Bloom nodded gravely, looking in the quick bloodshot eyes. Secret eyes, secret searching. Mason, I think: not sure. Beside him again. We are the last. In the same boat. Hope he'll say something else.
Mr Kernan added:
- The service of the Irish church, used in Mount Jerome, is simpler, more impressive, I must say.
Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. The language of course was another thing." (U6.658)
"Mr Kernan said with solemnity:
- I am the resurrection and the life. That touches a man's inmost heart.
- It does, Mr Bloom said." (U6.669)
"Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six feet by two with his toes to the daisies? No touching that. Seat of the affections. Broken heart. A pump after all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day. One fine day it gets bunged up: and there you are." (U6.672)
"Lots of them lying around here: lungs, hearts, livers. Old rusty pumps: damn the thing else." (U6.675)
"The resurrection and the life." (U6.677)
" Once you are dead you are dead. That last day idea. Knocking them all up out of their graves." (U6.677)
" Come forth, Lazarus! And he came fifth and lost the job. Get up! Last day!" (U6.678)
"Then every fellow mousing around for his liver and his lights and the rest of his traps. Find damn all of himself that morning. Pennyweight of powder in a skull. Twelve grammes one pennyweight. Troy measure" (U6.679)
"- O, to be sure, John Henry Menton said. I haven't seen her for some time. She was a finelooking woman. I danced with her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. And a good armful she was.
He looked behind through the others.
- What is he? he asked. What does he do? Wasn't he in the stationery line? I fell foul of him one evening, I remember, at bowls.
Ned Lambert smiled." (U6.695)
"- Yes, he was, he said, in Wisdom Hely's. A traveller for blottingpaper." (U6.703)

Hely's was a stationary store, with whom Bloom had held a job. As we see on this PC, in addition to sandwichmen, Hely used trams for advertisements.
"— In God's name, John Henry Menton said, what did she marry a coon like that for? She had plenty of game in her then.
— Has still, Ned Lambert said. He does some canvassing for ads.
John Henry Menton's large eyes stared ahead.
The barrow turned into a side lane. A portly man, ambushed among the grasses, raised his hat in homage. The gravediggers touched their caps.
— John O'Connell, Mr Power said pleased. He never forgets a friend." (U6.704)
"Mr O'Connell shook all their hands in silence. Mr Dedalus said:
— I am come to pay you another visit.
— My dear Simon, the caretaker answered in a low voice. I don't want your custom at all.
Saluting Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton he walked on at Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his back.
— Did you hear that one, he asked them, about Mulcahy from the Coombe?
— I did not, Martin Cunningham said.
They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes inclined his ear." (U6.711)


[Note: this is not Mr O'Connell]
"The caretaker hung his thumbs in the loops of his gold watch chain and spoke in a discreet tone to their vacant smiles." (U6.719)

Mr. John O'Connell's watch, as offered for auction by Adam's (Dublin, December 2011).