It was long ago, and this episode was long before. He was in a black sweater and had a hurley stick. He let it rebound twice or thrice to his hand and struck it strongly and swiftly towards the base of the alley, exclaiming in answer to its thud: --Your soul! Stephen stood with Lynch till the score began to rise. You know Epictetus? --An old gentleman, said Stephen coarsely, who said that the soul is very like a bucketful of water.