diff --git a/u13_nausica.xml b/u13_nausica.xml index 20928e0..167a51a 100755 --- a/u13_nausica.xml +++ b/u13_nausica.xml @@ -13,7 +13,7 @@ beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy Caffrey and Edy Boardman with the baby in the pushcar and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to -match and the name H. M. S. Belleisle printed on both. For Tommy and +match and the name H. M. S. Belleisle printed on both. For Tommy and Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them. They were dabbling in the sand with their @@ -1172,8 +1172,8 @@ glowworm's lamp at his belt gleaming here and there through the laurel hedges. And among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at Leahy's terrace. By screens of lighted windows, by equal gardens a shrill -voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Result of -the Gold Cup races! and from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out +voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Result of +the Gold Cup races! and from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out and called. Twittering the bat flew here, flew there. Far out over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of yumyum rhododendrons (he was old) and felt gladly the night breeze @@ -1182,8 +1182,8 @@ anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom.

Life those chaps out there must have, stuck in the same spot. Irish Lights board. Penance for their sins. Coastguards too. Rocket and breeches -buoy and lifeboat. Day we went out for the pleasure cruise in the Erin's -King, throwing them the sack of old papers. Bears in the zoo. Filthy trip. +buoy and lifeboat. Day we went out for the pleasure cruise in the Erin's +King, throwing them the sack of old papers. Bears in the zoo. Filthy trip. Drunkards out to shake up their livers. Puking overboard to feed the herrings. Nausea. And the women, fear of God in their faces. Milly, no sign of funk. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. Don't know what death is at that