n, said Nasry at home in a book.

    At tep t vo:

    -- tennyson a poet! er!

    -- O, get out! said  tennyson is test poet.

    -- And  poet? asked Boland, nudging his neighbour.

    -- Byron, of course, ansephen.

    hree joined in a scornful laugh.

    --  are you laug? asked Stephen.

    -- You, said est poet!  for uneducated people.

    --  be a fine poet! said Boland.

    -- You may keep your mout, said Stepurning on  poetry is e up on tes in to be sent to t for.

    Boland, in fact, o ten on tes in t about a classmate of en rode he college on a pony:

    As tyson o Jerusalem

    his Alec Kafoozelum.

    t put tenants to silence but  on:

    -- In any case Byron oo.

    -- I dont care w eply.

    -- You dont care ? said Nash.

    --  do you kno it? sed Step a trans, or Boland either.

    -- I kno Byron was a bad man, said Boland.

    -- cic, . In a moment Stephen was a prisoner.

    -- tate made you buck up t on, about the heresy in your essay.

    -- Ill tell omorrow, said Boland.

    -- ill you? said Stepo open your lips.

    -- Afraid?

    -- Ay. Afraid of your life.

    -- Beting at Steph his cane.

    It . Nasump ruggling and kicking under ts of tty stump Step a barbed wire fence.

    -- Admit t Byron was no good.

    -- No.

    -- Admit.

    -- No.

    -- Admit.

    -- No. No.

    At last after a fury of plunges ormentors set off toumbled on, clencs madly and sob