But his long spell of leisure and liberty was drawing to its end. One
evening his father came home full of news which kept his tongue busy
all through dinner. Stephen had been awaiting his father's return for
there had been mutton hash that day and he knew that his father would
make him dip his bread in the gravy. But he did not relish the hash for
the mention of Clongowes had coated his palate with a scum of disgust.

--I walked bang into him, said Mr Dedalus for the fourth time, just at
the corner of the square.

--Then I suppose, said Mrs Dedalus, he will be able to arrange it. I
mean about Belvedere.

--Of course he will, said Mr Dedalus. Don't I tell you he's provincial
of the order now?

--I never liked the idea of sending him to the christian brothers
myself, said Mrs Dedalus.

--Christian brothers be damned! said Mr Dedalus. Is it with Paddy
Stink and Micky Mud? No, let him stick to the jesuits in God's name
since he began with them. They'll be of service to him in after years.
Those are the fellows that can get you a position.

--And they're a very rich order, aren't they, Simon?

--Rather. They live well, I tell you. You saw their table at
Clongowes. Fed up, by God, like gamecocks.

Mr Dedalus pushed his plate over to Stephen and bade him finish what