Ah,  Jesus,  Francis,  not  the  eyes,  not  the  eyes.  Mother  of  Christ, you’re too young for that. Mr.Timoney, would you like me to read to you? With them eyes, Francis? Ah, no, son, Save the eyes. I’m beyond reading.In my head I have everything I need.I was smart enough to put things in my head in my youth and now I have a library in my head. The  English  shot  my  wife. The  Irish  put  down  my  poor  innocent Macushla. Isn’t it a joke of a world? Mam says,Terrible world but God is good. Indeed, missus. God made the world, it’s a terrible world, but God is good. Good-bye, Francis. Rest your eyes and then read till they fall out of your head.We had good times with old Jonathan Swift,didn’t we, Francis? We did, Mr.Timoney. Mam takes me back to the eye ward. She tells me, Don’t be crying over Mr.Timoney, he’s not even your father. Besides you’ll be ruining your eyes. Seamus  comes  to  the  ward  three  times  a  week  and  brings  new poems in his head. He says,You made Patricia sad, Frankie, when you didn’t like the one about the owl and the pussycat. I’m sorry, Seamus. I have it in my head, Frankie, and I’ll say it for you if you don’t say ’tis foolish. I won’t, Seamus. He says the poem and everyone in the ward loves it.They want the words and he says it three more times till the whole ward is saying, The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat. They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are. What a beautiful Pussy you are. 229