Uncle Charles smoked such black twist that at last his out= spoken nephew suggested to him to enjoy his morning smoke in a little outhouse at the end of the garden. —Very good, Simon. All serene, Simon, said the old man tran= quilly. Anywhere you like. The outhouse will do me nicely: it s will be more salubrious. — Damn me, said Mr Dedalus frankly, if I know how you can smoke such villainous awful tobacco. It's like gunpowder, by God. — It's very nice, Simon, replied the old man. Very cool and «> mollifying.