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Ulysses by James Joyce -- I -- STATELY, PLUMP BUCK MULLIGAN Came FROM THE STAIRHEAD, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. He arrived above to the gunrest and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's higher pocket, stated: --Lend us a financial loan of your noserag to wipe my razor. He skipped off the gunrest and looked gravely at his watcher, accumulating about his legs the unfastened folds of his gown. Leaning on it he looked down on the h2o and on the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of Kingstown. Halted, he peered down the dim winding stairs and known as out coarsely: --Come up, Kinch! Silence, all. He peered sideways up and gave a long sluggish whistle of simply call, then paused awhile in rapt focus, his even white enamel glistening below and there with gold details. A bond was naturally fashioned in between him and Himself, idealistically unbreakable even at the toughest moments.



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