The women play important parts in the chapter's action but
receive only sketchy biography. Miss Douce, whose hair is
"bronze," is called "Lydia" a dozen times. Miss Kennedy,
called "Mina" at the same rate, has "gold" hair and lives at
"4 Lismore terrace, Drumcondra." Lydia has just returned from
a seaside vacation in Rostrevor.
She is by any measure the more sexually effervescent and
adventurous of the two, rushing to the window to see the young
man, wishing for the freedom that men enjoy, mocking a stodgy
old druggist, playing suggestively with language ("I feel all wet"), suggestively
stroking a beerpull, singing snatches of a song, flirting with
Simon Dedalus and Blazes Boylan, showing Lenehan the swell of
her breast and the inside of her thigh. Mina, by "exquisite
contrast" to this live wire, is well-mannered, "Ladylike," a
bit dull: "Miss Kennedy served two gentlemen with tankards of
cool stout. She passed a remark. It was indeed, first
gentleman said, beautiful weather. They drank cool stout. Did
she know where the lord lieutenant was going? And heard
steelhoofs ringhoof ring. No, she couldn't say. But it would
be in the paper. O, she needn't trouble. No trouble."
In a JJON essay, John Simpson reports that James
Meagher, an Irishman who emigrated to Australia in the 1920s,
wrote a short memoir about his time in Dublin that mentions
regularly lunching at the Bailey Restaurant on Duke Street.
The "manageress" of the restaurant, he reports, was "Miss
Douse of the golden hair." Simpson has located an Irish
Times article of 24 August 1894 that mentions "A. Dowse,
Proprietress." Several Dowse sisters, he notes, moved to
Dublin from Tinahely in County Wicklow, and the 1901 census
shows Alice and her husband as proprietors of the restaurant,
Maggie as the manageress, and Helena (Ellen) as the cashier.
Circumstances changed by Meagher's time, and Simpson infers
from the available evidence that it might have been Ellen whom
he knew as the Manageress. The 1901 and 1911 census rolls also
list a "House Keeper" named Mary Kennedy living at the Bailey
address.
Joyce moved the two women from Duke Street to the northern
quays, gave them new first names and new work, and transferred
the blond hair to Miss Kennedy. His most interesting choice
was to change "Dowse" to "Douce," the French word for sweet.
Of this minute act of poetic license one can only nod
approvingly: instead of dousing desire's embers the barmaid
sweetens its song.