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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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"
Why
don
’
t
you
trade
with
me
no
more
?
"
the
Portuguese
grocer
asked
Martin
that
evening
,
stepping
out
to
hail
him
when
he
got
off
the
car
;
and
Martin
explained
that
he
wasn
’
t
doing
his
own
cooking
any
more
,
and
then
went
in
and
had
a
drink
of
wine
on
the
house
.
He
noted
it
was
the
best
wine
the
grocer
had
in
stock
.
"
Maria
,
"
Martin
announced
that
night
,
"
I
’
m
going
to
leave
you
.
And
you
’
re
going
to
leave
here
yourself
soon
.
Then
you
can
rent
the
house
and
be
a
landlord
yourself
.
You
’
ve
a
brother
in
San
Leandro
or
Haywards
,
and
he
’
s
in
the
milk
business
.
I
want
you
to
send
all
your
washing
back
unwashed
—
understand
?
—
unwashed
,
and
to
go
out
to
San
Leandro
to
-
morrow
,
or
Haywards
,
or
wherever
it
is
,
and
see
that
brother
of
yours
.
Tell
him
to
come
to
see
me
.
I
’
ll
be
stopping
at
the
Metropole
down
in
Oakland
.
He
’
ll
know
a
good
milk
-
ranch
when
he
sees
one
.
"
And
so
it
was
that
Maria
became
a
landlord
and
the
sole
owner
of
a
dairy
,
with
two
hired
men
to
do
the
work
for
her
and
a
bank
account
that
steadily
increased
despite
the
fact
that
her
whole
brood
wore
shoes
and
went
to
school
.
Few
persons
ever
meet
the
fairy
princes
they
dream
about
;
but
Maria
,
who
worked
hard
and
whose
head
was
hard
,
never
dreaming
about
fairy
princes
,
entertained
hers
in
the
guise
of
an
ex
-
laundryman
.
In
the
meantime
the
world
had
begun
to
ask
:
"
Who
is
this
Martin
Eden
?
"
He
had
declined
to
give
any
biographical
data
to
his
publishers
,
but
the
newspapers
were
not
to
be
denied
.
Oakland
was
his
own
town
,
and
the
reporters
nosed
out
scores
of
individuals
who
could
supply
information
.
All
that
he
was
and
was
not
,
all
that
he
had
done
and
most
of
what
he
had
not
done
,
was
spread
out
for
the
delectation
of
the
public
,
accompanied
by
snapshots
and
photographs
—
the
latter
procured
from
the
local
photographer
who
had
once
taken
Martin
’
s
picture
and
who
promptly
copyrighted
it
and
put
it
on
the
market
.
At
first
,
so
great
was
his
disgust
with
the
magazines
and
all
bourgeois
society
,
Martin
fought
against
publicity
;
but
in
the
end
,
because
it
was
easier
than
not
to
,
he
surrendered
.
He
found
that
he
could
not
refuse
himself
to
the
special
writers
who
travelled
long
distances
to
see
him
.
Then
again
,
each
day
was
so
many
hours
long
,
and
,
since
he
no
longer
was
occupied
with
writing
and
studying
,
those
hours
had
to
be
occupied
somehow
;
so
he
yielded
to
what
was
to
him
a
whim
,
permitted
interviews
,
gave
his
opinions
on
literature
and
philosophy
,
and
even
accepted
invitations
of
the
bourgeoisie
.
He
had
settled
down
into
a
strange
and
comfortable
state
of
mind
.
He
no
longer
cared
.
He
forgave
everybody
,
even
the
cub
reporter
who
had
painted
him
red
and
to
whom
he
now
granted
a
full
page
with
specially
posed
photographs
.
He
saw
Lizzie
occasionally
,
and
it
was
patent
that
she
regretted
the
greatness
that
had
come
to
him
.
It
widened
the
space
between
them
.
Perhaps
it
was
with
the
hope
of
narrowing
it
that
she
yielded
to
his
persuasions
to
go
to
night
school
and
business
college
and
to
have
herself
gowned
by
a
wonderful
dressmaker
who
charged
outrageous
prices
.
She
improved
visibly
from
day
to
day
,
until
Martin
wondered
if
he
was
doing
right
,
for
he
knew
that
all
her
compliance
and
endeavor
was
for
his
sake
.
She
was
trying
to
make
herself
of
worth
in
his
eyes
—
of
the
sort
of
worth
he
seemed
to
value
.
Yet
he
gave
her
no
hope
,
treating
her
in
brotherly
fashion
and
rarely
seeing
her
.
"
Overdue
"
was
rushed
upon
the
market
by
the
Meredith
-
Lowell
Company
in
the
height
of
his
popularity
,
and
being
fiction
,
in
point
of
sales
it
made
even
a
bigger
strike
than
"
The
Shame
of
the
Sun
.
"
Week
after
week
his
was
the
credit
of
the
unprecedented
performance
of
having
two
books
at
the
head
of
the
list
of
best
-
sellers
.
Not
only
did
the
story
take
with
the
fiction
-
readers
,
but
those
who
read
"
The
Shame
of
the
Sun
"
with
avidity
were
likewise
attracted
to
the
sea
-
story
by
the
cosmic
grasp
of
mastery
with
which
he
had
handled
it
.
First
he
had
attacked
the
literature
of
mysticism
,
and
had
done
it
exceeding
well
;
and
,
next
,
he
had
successfully
supplied
the
very
literature
he
had
exposited
,
thus
proving
himself
to
be
that
rare
genius
,
a
critic
and
a
creator
in
one
.
Money
poured
in
on
him
,
fame
poured
in
on
him
;
he
flashed
,
comet
-
like
,
through
the
world
of
literature
,
and
he
was
more
amused
than
interested
by
the
stir
he
was
making
.
One
thing
was
puzzling
him
,
a
little
thing
that
would
have
puzzled
the
world
had
it
known
.
But
the
world
would
have
puzzled
over
his
bepuzzlement
rather
than
over
the
little
thing
that
to
him
loomed
gigantic
.
Judge
Blount
invited
him
to
dinner
.
That
was
the
little
thing
,
or
the
beginning
of
the
little
thing
,
that
was
soon
to
become
the
big
thing
.
He
had
insulted
Judge
Blount
,
treated
him
abominably
,
and
Judge
Blount
,
meeting
him
on
the
street
,
invited
him
to
dinner
.
Martin
bethought
himself
of
the
numerous
occasions
on
which
he
had
met
Judge
Blount
at
the
Morses
’
and
when
Judge
Blount
had
not
invited
him
to
dinner
.
Why
had
he
not
invited
him
to
dinner
then
?
he
asked
himself
.
He
had
not
changed
.
He
was
the
same
Martin
Eden
.
What
made
the
difference
?
The
fact
that
the
stuff
he
had
written
had
appeared
inside
the
covers
of
books
?
But
it
was
work
performed
.
It
was
not
something
he
had
done
since
.
It
was
achievement
accomplished
at
the
very
time
Judge
Blount
was
sharing
this
general
view
and
sneering
at
his
Spencer
and
his
intellect
.
Therefore
it
was
not
for
any
real
value
,
but
for
a
purely
fictitious
value
that
Judge
Blount
invited
him
to
dinner
.
