The Ginger Man Read Online Free PDF

here."
    "What are you going to do with that jug on the dresser? Still has the price on it."
    "That? It's yours. Do you know what that is? I'll tell you. A year ago when I got into this hole I was full of big ideas. Things like rugs and easy chairs and maybe a few paintings on the wall, have some of these pukka public school boys up to tea to have a look at my objets d'art. I thought things would be like Harvard only I'd be able to crack into a few of the clubs as I was never able to do in Harvard. I felt it would be best to start the furnishing with a few bedroom items, so I bought that jug for one and four as you can plainly see, and that was that. Needless to say I never cracked or rubbed shoulders with these public school boys. They talk to me but think I'm a little coarse."
    "Pity."
    "Yeah, pity. I'll give you the jug to remember me when I'm gone from the ould sod, sacked in with some lovely French doll Jesus. if I had your accent I'd be set here. That's 36 the whole thing, accent I'm beat even before I get my nose in. Anyway it won't stop me in France"
    "I say, Kenneth, I don't want to be personal—"
    "Yeah, I know. Where did I get the money. That my friend is an affair of state which is top secret"
    "Pity"
    "Come on, let's go. Take the ties if you want them and the jug, anything that's left for that matter. This is the last I'll ever see of this dreary setup. Never even had a fire in my fireplace. I'm twenty-seven years old and I feel like sixty. I don't know, I think I'd die before I'd go through this again. Wasted time. No degree. I think I got to four Greek lectures and two in Latin in the last six months. This place is tough, not like Harvard. These boys work day and night"
    "How about these used razors?"
    "Take anything. I'll be as poor as a church mouse for the rest of me days."
    Sebastian gathered the bow ties in his fist and stuffed them in his pockets. Pilled a wash cloth with razor blades and several slivers of soap. On the table, a pile of penny notebooks.
    "What are these, Kenneth?"
    "Those are the fruits, rotten ones I might add, of my efforts to become a great writer."
    "You're not leaving them behind?"
    "Certainly. What do you want me to do?"
    "Never know."
    "I happen to know. One thing I'm sure of, I'm no writer. I'm nothing but a hungry, sexstarved son of a bitch."
    Dangerfield turning the pages of the notebook. Reading aloud.
    "In the ordinary Irish American family this would have been a very happy occasion of hypocritical and genuine gaiety, but the O'Lacey's were not the ordinary Irish American family and the atmosphere was almost sacrilegiously tense—"
    "Cut it out. If you want to read it, take it Don't remind me of that crap. I'm finished writing. Cooking is my trade"
    Two of them passing out of the bedroom with newspapers spread on the mattress springs. Imprint of the body. January in here and June outside. Sad rat, O'Keefe, the hunk of bread gnawed. And the scullery a blackened vestibule of grease. Under the gas ring he bacon rinds the color green and a broken cup half full of dripping; O'Keefe's first move, no doubt, to open up a highbrow restaurant. Lives punctuated with shrewd business deals, quick flashes of happiness ending in dismal abortion. Keeps one awake at night and poor as well.
    They tripped and bounced down the worn stairs. Walked across the cobbles. O'Keefe leading, hands plunged in pockets, lilting, a caterpillar walk. Followed austerely, nervously, by the twitching Dangerfield on his bird feet. Into No. 4 to urinate.
    "Pissing always gives me a chance to think. It's all the good this thing has ever done me. But I'm out. On the move again. Best feeling in the world. How does it feel to be loaded with wife and child, Dangerfield? It's a problem for you even to get out the door."
    "One manages, Kenneth. Be better days. I promise you that."
    "Be Grangegorman."
    "Did you know, Kenneth, that Trinity graduates get preferential treatment in the Gorman?"
    "Good, you'll be murdered. But