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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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Maria
,
with
worshipful
eyes
that
none
the
less
were
keen
to
note
the
texture
of
Ruth
’
s
garments
and
the
cut
of
them
(
a
cut
unknown
that
produced
an
effect
mysteriously
beautiful
)
,
saw
her
to
the
carriage
.
The
crowd
of
disappointed
urchins
stared
till
the
carriage
disappeared
from
view
,
then
transferred
their
stare
to
Maria
,
who
had
abruptly
become
the
most
important
person
on
the
street
.
But
it
was
one
of
her
progeny
who
blasted
Maria
’
s
reputation
by
announcing
that
the
grand
visitors
had
been
for
her
lodger
.
After
that
Maria
dropped
back
into
her
old
obscurity
and
Martin
began
to
notice
the
respectful
manner
in
which
he
was
regarded
by
the
small
fry
of
the
neighborhood
.
As
for
Maria
,
Martin
rose
in
her
estimation
a
full
hundred
per
cent
,
and
had
the
Portuguese
grocer
witnessed
that
afternoon
carriage
-
call
he
would
have
allowed
Martin
an
additional
three
-
dollars
-
and
-
eighty
-
five
-
cents
’
worth
of
credit
.
The
sun
of
Martin
’
s
good
fortune
rose
.
The
day
after
Ruth
’
s
visit
,
he
received
a
check
for
three
dollars
from
a
New
York
scandal
weekly
in
payment
for
three
of
his
triolets
.
Two
days
later
a
newspaper
published
in
Chicago
accepted
his
"
Treasure
Hunters
,
"
promising
to
pay
ten
dollars
for
it
on
publication
.
The
price
was
small
,
but
it
was
the
first
article
he
had
written
,
his
very
first
attempt
to
express
his
thought
on
the
printed
page
.
To
cap
everything
,
the
adventure
serial
for
boys
,
his
second
attempt
,
was
accepted
before
the
end
of
the
week
by
a
juvenile
monthly
calling
itself
Youth
and
Age
.
It
was
true
the
serial
was
twenty
-
one
thousand
words
,
and
they
offered
to
pay
him
sixteen
dollars
on
publication
,
which
was
something
like
seventy
-
five
cents
a
thousand
words
;
but
it
was
equally
true
that
it
was
the
second
thing
he
had
attempted
to
write
and
that
he
was
himself
thoroughly
aware
of
its
clumsy
worthlessness
.
But
even
his
earliest
efforts
were
not
marked
with
the
clumsiness
of
mediocrity
.
What
characterized
them
was
the
clumsiness
of
too
great
strength
—
the
clumsiness
which
the
tyro
betrays
when
he
crushes
butterflies
with
battering
rams
and
hammers
out
vignettes
with
a
war
-
club
.
So
it
was
that
Martin
was
glad
to
sell
his
early
efforts
for
songs
.
He
knew
them
for
what
they
were
,
and
it
had
not
taken
him
long
to
acquire
this
knowledge
.
What
he
pinned
his
faith
to
was
his
later
work
.
He
had
striven
to
be
something
more
than
a
mere
writer
of
magazine
fiction
.
He
had
sought
to
equip
himself
with
the
tools
of
artistry
.
On
the
other
hand
,
he
had
not
sacrificed
strength
.
His
conscious
aim
had
been
to
increase
his
strength
by
avoiding
excess
of
strength
.
Nor
had
he
departed
from
his
love
of
reality
.
His
work
was
realism
,
though
he
had
endeavored
to
fuse
with
it
the
fancies
and
beauties
of
imagination
.
What
he
sought
was
an
impassioned
realism
,
shot
through
with
human
aspiration
and
faith
.
What
he
wanted
was
life
as
it
was
,
with
all
its
spirit
-
groping
and
soul
-
reaching
left
in
.
He
had
discovered
,
in
the
course
of
his
reading
,
two
schools
of
fiction
.
One
treated
of
man
as
a
god
,
ignoring
his
earthly
origin
;
the
other
treated
of
man
as
a
clod
,
ignoring
his
heaven
-
sent
dreams
and
divine
possibilities
.
Both
the
god
and
the
clod
schools
erred
,
in
Martin
’
s
estimation
,
and
erred
through
too
great
singleness
of
sight
and
purpose
.
There
was
a
compromise
that
approximated
the
truth
,
though
it
flattered
not
the
school
of
god
,
while
it
challenged
the
brute
-
savageness
of
the
school
of
clod
.
It
was
his
story
,
"
Adventure
,
"
which
had
dragged
with
Ruth
,
that
Martin
believed
had
achieved
his
ideal
of
the
true
in
fiction
;
and
it
was
in
an
essay
,
"
God
and
Clod
,
"
that
he
had
expressed
his
views
on
the
whole
general
subject
.
But
"
Adventure
,
"
and
all
that
he
deemed
his
best
work
,
still
went
begging
among
the
editors
.
His
early
work
counted
for
nothing
in
his
eyes
except
for
the
money
it
brought
,
and
his
horror
stories
,
two
of
which
he
had
sold
,
he
did
not
consider
high
work
nor
his
best
work
.
To
him
they
were
frankly
imaginative
and
fantastic
,
though
invested
with
all
the
glamour
of
the
real
,
wherein
lay
their
power
.
This
investiture
of
the
grotesque
and
impossible
with
reality
,
he
looked
upon
as
a
trick
—
a
skilful
trick
at
best
.
Great
literature
could
not
reside
in
such
a
field
.
Their
artistry
was
high
,
but
he
denied
the
worthwhileness
of
artistry
when
divorced
from
humanness
.
The
trick
had
been
to
fling
over
the
face
of
his
artistry
a
mask
of
humanness
,
and
this
he
had
done
in
the
half
-
dozen
or
so
stories
of
the
horror
brand
he
had
written
before
he
emerged
upon
the
high
peaks
of
"
Adventure
,
"
"
Joy
,
"
"
The
Pot
,
"
and
"
The
Wine
of
Life
.
"
The
three
dollars
he
received
for
the
triolets
he
used
to
eke
out
a
precarious
existence
against
the
arrival
of
the
White
Mouse
check
.
He
cashed
the
first
check
with
the
suspicious
Portuguese
grocer
,
paying
a
dollar
on
account
and
dividing
the
remaining
two
dollars
between
the
baker
and
the
fruit
store
.
Martin
was
not
yet
rich
enough
to
afford
meat
,
and
he
was
on
slim
allowance
when
the
White
Mouse
check
arrived
.
He
was
divided
on
the
cashing
of
it
.
He
had
never
been
in
a
bank
in
his
life
,
much
less
been
in
one
on
business
,
and
he
had
a
naive
and
childlike
desire
to
walk
into
one
of
the
big
banks
down
in
Oakland
and
fling
down
his
indorsed
check
for
forty
dollars
.
On
the
other
hand
,
practical
common
sense
ruled
that
he
should
cash
it
with
his
grocer
and
thereby
make
an
impression
that
would
later
result
in
an
increase
of
credit
.
Reluctantly
Martin
yielded
to
the
claims
of
the
grocer
,
paying
his
bill
with
him
in
full
,
and
receiving
in
change
a
pocketful
of
jingling
coin
.
Also
,
he
paid
the
other
tradesmen
in
full
,
redeemed
his
suit
and
his
bicycle
,
paid
one
month
’
s
rent
on
the
type
-
writer
,
and
paid
Maria
the
overdue
month
for
his
room
and
a
month
in
advance
.
This
left
him
in
his
pocket
,
for
emergencies
,
a
balance
of
nearly
three
dollars
.
In
itself
,
this
small
sum
seemed
a
fortune
.
Immediately
on
recovering
his
clothes
he
had
gone
to
see
Ruth
,
and
on
the
way
he
could
not
refrain
from
jingling
the
little
handful
of
silver
in
his
pocket
.
He
had
been
so
long
without
money
that
,
like
a
rescued
starving
man
who
cannot
let
the
unconsumed
food
out
of
his
sight
,
Martin
could
not
keep
his
hand
off
the
silver
.
He
was
not
mean
,
nor
avaricious
,
but
the
money
meant
more
than
so
many
dollars
and
cents
.
It
stood
for
success
,
and
the
eagles
stamped
upon
the
coins
were
to
him
so
many
winged
victories
.
