noon
We revenged ourselves on Leo Dillon by saying what a funk he was and guessing how many he would get at three o'clock from Mr Ryan . We came then near the river . We spent a long time walking about the noisy streets flanked by high stone walls , watching the working of cranes and engines and often being shouted at for our immobility by the drivers of groaning carts . It was noon when we reached the quays and , as all the labourers seemed to be eating their lunches , we bought two big currant buns and sat down to eat them on some metal piping beside the river . We pleased ourselves with the spectacle of Dublin 's commerce -- the barges signalled from far away by their curls of woolly smoke , the brown fishing fleet beyond Ringsend , the big white sailing-vessel which was being discharged on the opposite quay . Mahony said it would be right skit to run away to sea on one of those big ships and even I , looking at the high masts , saw , or imagined , the geography which had been scantily dosed to me at school gradually taking substance under my eyes . School and home seemed to recede from us and their influences upon us seemed to wane .