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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 18/210
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And
time
was
very
heavy
and
very
long
.
I
played
games
with
flies
,
with
ordinary
house-flies
that
oozed
into
solitary
as
did
the
dim
gray
light
;
and
learned
that
they
possessed
a
sense
of
play
.
For
instance
,
lying
on
the
cell
floor
,
I
established
an
arbitrary
and
imaginary
line
along
the
wall
some
three
feet
above
the
floor
.
When
they
rested
on
the
wall
above
this
line
they
were
left
in
peace
.
The
instant
they
lighted
on
the
wall
below
the
line
I
tried
to
catch
them
.
I
was
careful
never
to
hurt
them
,
and
,
in
time
,
they
knew
as
precisely
as
did
I
where
ran
the
imaginary
line
.
When
they
desired
to
play
,
they
lighted
below
the
line
,
and
often
for
an
hour
at
a
time
a
single
fly
would
engage
in
the
sport
.
When
it
grew
tired
,
it
would
come
to
rest
on
the
safe
territory
above
.
Of
the
dozen
or
more
flies
that
lived
with
me
,
there
was
only
one
who
did
not
care
for
the
game
.
He
refused
steadfastly
to
play
,
and
,
having
learned
the
penalty
of
alighting
below
the
line
,
very
carefully
avoided
the
unsafe
territory
.
That
fly
was
a
sullen
,
disgruntled
creature
.
As
the
convicts
would
say
,
it
had
a
"
grouch
"
against
the
world
.
He
never
played
with
the
other
flies
either
.
He
was
strong
and
healthy
,
too
;
for
I
studied
him
long
to
find
out
.
His
indisposition
for
play
was
temperamental
,
not
physical
.
Believe
me
,
I
knew
all
my
flies
.
It
was
surprising
to
me
the
multitude
of
differences
I
distinguished
between
them
.
Oh
,
each
was
distinctly
an
individual
--
not
merely
in
size
and
markings
,
strength
,
and
speed
of
flight
,
and
in
the
manner
and
fancy
of
flight
and
play
,
of
dodge
and
dart
,
of
wheel
and
swiftly
repeat
or
wheel
and
reverse
,
of
touch
and
go
on
the
danger
wall
,
or
of
feint
the
touch
and
alight
elsewhere
within
the
zone
.
They
were
likewise
sharply
differentiated
in
the
minutest
shades
of
mentality
and
temperament
.
I
knew
the
nervous
ones
,
the
phlegmatic
ones
.
There
was
a
little
undersized
one
that
would
fly
into
real
rages
,
sometimes
with
me
,
sometimes
with
its
fellows
.
Have
you
ever
seen
a
colt
or
a
calf
throw
up
its
heels
and
dash
madly
about
the
pasture
from
sheer
excess
of
vitality
and
spirits
?
Well
,
there
was
one
fly
--
the
keenest
player
of
them
all
,
by
the
way
--
who
,
when
it
had
alighted
three
or
four
times
in
rapid
succession
on
my
taboo
wall
and
succeeded
each
time
in
eluding
the
velvet-careful
swoop
of
my
hand
,
would
grow
so
excited
and
jubilant
that
it
would
dart
around
and
around
my
head
at
top
speed
,
wheeling
,
veering
,
reversing
,
and
always
keeping
within
the
limits
of
the
narrow
circle
in
which
it
celebrated
its
triumph
over
me
.
Why
,
I
could
tell
well
in
advance
when
any
particular
fly
was
making
up
its
mind
to
begin
to
play
.
There
are
a
thousand
details
in
this
one
matter
alone
that
I
shall
not
bore
you
with
,
although
these
details
did
serve
to
keep
me
from
being
bored
too
utterly
during
that
first
period
in
solitary
.
But
one
thing
I
must
tell
you
.
To
me
it
is
most
memorable
--
the
time
when
the
one
with
a
grouch
,
who
never
played
,
alighted
in
a
moment
of
absent-mindedness
within
the
taboo
precinct
and
was
immediately
captured
in
my
hand
.
Do
you
know
,
he
sulked
for
an
hour
afterward
.
And
the
hours
were
very
long
in
solitary
;
nor
could
I
sleep
them
all
away
;
nor
could
I
while
them
away
with
house-flies
,
no
matter
how
intelligent
.
For
house-flies
are
house-flies
,
and
I
was
a
man
,
with
a
man
's
brain
;
and
my
brain
was
trained
and
active
,
stuffed
with
culture
and
science
,
and
always
geared
to
a
high
tension
of
eagerness
to
do
.
And
there
was
nothing
to
do
,
and
my
thoughts
ran
abominably
on
in
vain
speculations
.
There
was
my
pentose
and
methyl-pentose
determination
in
grapes
and
wines
to
which
I
had
devoted
my
last
summer
vacation
at
the
Asti
Vineyards
.
I
had
all
but
completed
the
series
of
experiments
.
Was
anybody
else
going
on
with
it
,
I
wondered
;
and
if
so
,
with
what
success
?
You
see
,
the
world
was
dead
to
me
.
No
news
of
it
filtered
in
.
The
history
of
science
was
making
fast
,
and
I
was
interested
in
a
thousand
subjects
.
Why
,
there
was
my
theory
of
the
hydrolysis
of
casein
by
trypsin
,
which
Professor
Walters
had
been
carrying
out
in
his
laboratory
.
Also
,
Professor
Schleimer
had
similarly
been
collaborating
with
me
in
the
detection
of
phytosterol
in
mixtures
of
animal
and
vegetable
fats
.
The
work
surely
was
going
on
,
but
with
what
results
?
The
very
thought
of
all
this
activity
just
beyond
the
prison
walls
and
in
which
I
could
take
no
part
,
of
which
I
was
never
even
to
hear
,
was
maddening
.
And
in
the
meantime
I
lay
there
on
my
cell
floor
and
played
games
with
house-flies
.
