He hacked through the fry on the dish and slapped it out on three plates,
saying:

--IN NOMINE PATRIS ET FILII ET SPIRITUS SANCTI.

Haines sat down to pour out the tea.

--I'm giving you two lumps each, he said. But, I say, Mulligan, you do
make strong tea, don't you?

Buck Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the loaf, said in an old woman's
wheedling voice:

--When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I
makes water I makes water.

--By Jove, it is tea, Haines said.

Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling:

--SO I DO, MRS CAHILL, says she. BEGOB, MA'AM, says Mrs Cahill, GOD SEND
YOU DON'T MAKE THEM IN THE ONE POT.

He lunged towards his messmates in turn a thick slice of bread, impaled
on his knife.

--That's folk, he said very earnestly, for your book, Haines. Five lines
of text and ten pages of notes about the folk and the fishgods of
Dundrum. Printed by the weird sisters in the year of the big wind.