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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 121/241
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He
looked
up
from
his
task
and
saw
Joe
standing
before
him
juggling
flat
-
irons
,
starched
shirts
,
and
manuscripts
.
Now
and
again
he
reached
out
and
added
a
bundle
of
checks
to
the
flying
miscellany
that
soared
through
the
roof
and
out
of
sight
in
a
tremendous
circle
.
Martin
struck
at
him
,
but
he
seized
the
axe
and
added
it
to
the
flying
circle
.
Then
he
plucked
Martin
and
added
him
.
Martin
went
up
through
the
roof
,
clutching
at
manuscripts
,
so
that
by
the
time
he
came
down
he
had
a
large
armful
.
But
no
sooner
down
than
up
again
,
and
a
second
and
a
third
time
and
countless
times
he
flew
around
the
circle
.
From
far
off
he
could
hear
a
childish
treble
singing
:
"
Waltz
me
around
again
,
Willie
,
around
,
around
,
around
.
"
He
recovered
the
axe
in
the
midst
of
the
Milky
Way
of
checks
,
starched
shirts
,
and
manuscripts
,
and
prepared
,
when
he
came
down
,
to
kill
Joe
.
But
he
did
not
come
down
.
Instead
,
at
two
in
the
morning
,
Maria
,
having
heard
his
groans
through
the
thin
partition
,
came
into
his
room
,
to
put
hot
flat
-
irons
against
his
body
and
damp
cloths
upon
his
aching
eyes
.
Martin
Eden
did
not
go
out
to
hunt
for
a
job
in
the
morning
.
It
was
late
afternoon
before
he
came
out
of
his
delirium
and
gazed
with
aching
eyes
about
the
room
.
Mary
,
one
of
the
tribe
of
Silva
,
eight
years
old
,
keeping
watch
,
raised
a
screech
at
sight
of
his
returning
consciousness
.
Maria
hurried
into
the
room
from
the
kitchen
.
She
put
her
work
-
calloused
hand
upon
his
hot
forehead
and
felt
his
pulse
.
"
You
lika
da
eat
?
"
she
asked
.
He
shook
his
head
.
Eating
was
farthest
from
his
desire
,
and
he
wondered
that
he
should
ever
have
been
hungry
in
his
life
.
"
I
’
m
sick
,
Maria
,
"
he
said
weakly
.
"
What
is
it
?
Do
you
know
?
"
"
Grip
,
"
she
answered
.
"
Two
or
three
days
you
alla
da
right
.
Better
you
no
eat
now
.
Bimeby
plenty
can
eat
,
tomorrow
can
eat
maybe
.
"
Martin
was
not
used
to
sickness
,
and
when
Maria
and
her
little
girl
left
him
,
he
essayed
to
get
up
and
dress
.
By
a
supreme
exertion
of
will
,
with
rearing
brain
and
eyes
that
ached
so
that
he
could
not
keep
them
open
,
he
managed
to
get
out
of
bed
,
only
to
be
left
stranded
by
his
senses
upon
the
table
.
Half
an
hour
later
he
managed
to
regain
the
bed
,
where
he
was
content
to
lie
with
closed
eyes
and
analyze
his
various
pains
and
weaknesses
.
Maria
came
in
several
times
to
change
the
cold
cloths
on
his
forehead
.
Otherwise
she
left
him
in
peace
,
too
wise
to
vex
him
with
chatter
.
This
moved
him
to
gratitude
,
and
he
murmured
to
himself
,
"
Maria
,
you
getta
da
milka
ranch
,
all
righta
,
all
right
.
"
Then
he
remembered
his
long
-
buried
past
of
yesterday
.
It
seemed
a
life
-
time
since
he
had
received
that
letter
from
the
Transcontinental
,
a
life
-
time
since
it
was
all
over
and
done
with
and
a
new
page
turned
.
He
had
shot
his
bolt
,
and
shot
it
hard
,
and
now
he
was
down
on
his
back
.
If
he
hadn
’
t
starved
himself
,
he
wouldn
’
t
have
been
caught
by
La
Grippe
.
He
had
been
run
down
,
and
he
had
not
had
the
strength
to
throw
off
the
germ
of
disease
which
had
invaded
his
system
.
This
was
what
resulted
.
"
What
does
it
profit
a
man
to
write
a
whole
library
and
lose
his
own
life
?
"
he
demanded
aloud
.
"
This
is
no
place
for
me
.
No
more
literature
in
mine
.
Me
for
the
counting
-
house
and
ledger
,
the
monthly
salary
,
and
the
little
home
with
Ruth
.
"
