Page:Ulysses, 1922.djvu/480

Rh L’homme primigène! (He whirls round and round with dervish howls.) Sieurs et dames, faites vos jeux! (He crouches juggling. Tiny roulette planets fly from his hands.) Les jeux sont faits! (The planets rush together, uttering crepitant cracks.) Rien n’va plus. (The planets, buoyant balloons, sail swollen up and away. He springs off into vacuum.)

(Sinking into torpor, crosses herself secretly.) The end of the world!

Jerusalem!

Open your gates and sing

Hosanna...

(With a Scotch accent.) Wha’ll dance the keel row, the keel row, the keel row?

No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Jake Crane, Creole Sue, Dave Campbell, Abe Kirschner, do your coughing with your mouths shut. Say, I am operating all this trunk line. Boys, do it now. God’s time is 12.25. Tell mother you’ll be there. Rush your order and you play a slick ace. Join on right here!