Ulysses - The Navvy: (Shouts) - Literature Archive

Ulysses
James Joyce
< (They Whisk Black Masks From Raw Babby Faces: Then, Chuckling, Chortling, Trumming, Twanging, They Diddle Diddle Cakewalk Dance Away.)	The Navvy: (Shouts)	The Navvy: (Shouts) >

We are the boys. Of Wexford.

PRIVATE COMPTON: Say! What price the sergeantmajor?

PRIVATE Carr: Bennett? He’s my pal. I love old Bennett.

< (They Whisk Black Masks From Raw Babby Faces: Then, Chuckling, Chortling, Trumming, Twanging, They Diddle Diddle Cakewalk Dance Away.)	The Navvy: (Shouts)	The Navvy: (Shouts) >

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