Uncle Charles smoked such black twist that at last his nephew suggested to him to enjoy his m smoke in a little outhouse at the end of the garden.
-- Very good, Simon. All serene, Simon, said the old man tranquilly. Anywhere you like. The outhouse will do me nicely: it will be more salubrious.
-- Damn me, said Mr Dedalus frankly, if I know how you smoke such villainous awful tobacco. Its like gunpowder, by God.
-- Its very nice, Simon, replied the old man. Very cool and mollifying.
Every m, therefore, uncle Charles repaired to his outhouse but not before he had greased and brushed scrupulously his back hair and brushed and put on his tall hat. While he smoked the brim of his tall hat and the bowl of his pipe were just visible beyond the jambs of the outhouse door. His arbour, as he called the reeking outhouse which he shared with the cat and the garden tools, served him also as a sounding-box: and every m he hummed tentedly one of his favourite songs: ……（内容加载失败！）
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