If you want to read the questions before you see the answers, click here, quickly, before you read any more...
1. What three things should an Irishman be wary of?
"Horn of a bull, hoof of a horse, smile of a Saxon." (An Irish saying).
2. What did Mr Deasy think Stephen would find very handy?
3. What is the live dog called?
4. What did Milly buy her father for his birthday?
A moustache cup of imitation Crown Derby.
5. What did the soap smell of?
Lemon. "Mr Bloom raised a cake to his nostrils. Sweet lemony wax."
6. Who darns Mr Bloom's socks?
Mrs Fleming. "Glad I took that bath. Feel my feet quite clean. But I wish Mrs Fleming had darned these socks better."
7. What opera is like a railway line?
"Lenehan announced gladly: - The Rose of Castile. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!"
8. What sort of cheese does Bloom have in his sandwich?
Gorgonzola. In Davy Byrne's pub, "Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of disgust pungent mustard, the feety savour of green cheese."
9. What did Stephen drink with Dan Deasy's ducats?
"Three drams of usquebaugh" (whiskey).
10. What was not on the slab?
Wolfe Tone's statue.
11. "From the saloon a call came, long in dying." Who had forgotten what?
The piano tuner his tuning fork.
12. Who won the Gold Cup?
13. Who kissed Molly under the Moorish Wall beside the gardens?
14. Who is the "remarkablest progenitor barring none in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle"?
15. Bloom's real name is Higgins - according to whom?
The man in the mackintosh (see below). Higgins was Bloom's mother's maiden name.
16. What flashed "through his (Bloom's) busy brain"?
"All kinds of Utopian plans."
17. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat?
18. What year did the Blooms marry?
I was going to ask the question, who was the man in the macintosh? However, I don't think we ever find out.
The caretaker put the papers in his pocket. The barrow had ceased to trundle. The mourners split and moved to each side of the hole, stepping with care round the graves. The gravediggers bore the coffin and set its nose on the brink, looping the bands round it.
Burying him. We come to bury Caesar. His ides of March or June. He doesn't know who is here nor care. Now who is that lankylooking galoot over there in the macintosh? Now who is he I'd like to know? Now I'd give a trifle to know who he is. Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. A fellow could live on his lonesome all his life. Yes, he could. Still he'd have to get someone to sod him after he died though he could dig his own grave. We all do. Only man buries. No, ants too. First thing strikes anybody. Bury the dead. Say Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it.
Poor Dignam! His last lie on the earth in his box. When you think of them all it does seem a waste of wood. All gnawed through. They could invent a handsome bier with a kind of panel sliding, let it down that way. Ay but they might object to be buried out of another fellow's. They're so particular. Lay me in my native earth. Bit of clay from the holy land. Only a mother and deadborn child ever buried in the one coffin. I see what it means. I see. To protect him as long as possible even in the earth. The Irishman's house is his coffin. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same idea.
Mr Bloom stood far back, his hat in his hand, counting the bared heads. Twelve. I'm thirteen. No. The chap in the macintosh is thirteen. Death's number. Where the deuce did he pop out of? He wasn't in the chapel, that I'll swear. Silly superstition that about thirteen. James Joyce, Ulysses: Episode 6: Hades
I like the theory that perhaps he's Mr Duffy (from the Dubliners story, A Painful Case):
He had neither companions nor friends, church nor creed. He lived his spiritual life without any communion with others, visiting his relatives at Christmas and escorting them to the cemetery when they died. He performed these two social duties for old dignity's sake but conceded nothing further to the conventions which regulate the civic life.