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- Джек Лондон
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He
went
downstairs
and
out
into
the
street
,
breathing
great
breaths
of
air
.
He
had
been
suffocating
in
that
atmosphere
,
while
the
apprentice
’
s
chatter
had
driven
him
frantic
.
There
had
been
times
when
it
was
all
he
could
do
to
refrain
from
reaching
over
and
mopping
Jim
’
s
face
in
the
mush
-
plate
.
The
more
he
had
chattered
,
the
more
remote
had
Ruth
seemed
to
him
.
How
could
he
,
herding
with
such
cattle
,
ever
become
worthy
of
her
?
He
was
appalled
at
the
problem
confronting
him
,
weighted
down
by
the
incubus
of
his
working
-
class
station
.
Everything
reached
out
to
hold
him
down
—
his
sister
,
his
sister
’
s
house
and
family
,
Jim
the
apprentice
,
everybody
he
knew
,
every
tie
of
life
.
Existence
did
not
taste
good
in
his
mouth
.
Up
to
then
he
had
accepted
existence
,
as
he
had
lived
it
with
all
about
him
,
as
a
good
thing
.
He
had
never
questioned
it
,
except
when
he
read
books
;
but
then
,
they
were
only
books
,
fairy
stories
of
a
fairer
and
impossible
world
.
But
now
he
had
seen
that
world
,
possible
and
real
,
with
a
flower
of
a
woman
called
Ruth
in
the
midmost
centre
of
it
;
and
thenceforth
he
must
know
bitter
tastes
,
and
longings
sharp
as
pain
,
and
hopelessness
that
tantalized
because
it
fed
on
hope
.
He
had
debated
between
the
Berkeley
Free
Library
and
the
Oakland
Free
Library
,
and
decided
upon
the
latter
because
Ruth
lived
in
Oakland
.
Who
could
tell
?
—
a
library
was
a
most
likely
place
for
her
,
and
he
might
see
her
there
.
He
did
not
know
the
way
of
libraries
,
and
he
wandered
through
endless
rows
of
fiction
,
till
the
delicate
-
featured
French
-
looking
girl
who
seemed
in
charge
,
told
him
that
the
reference
department
was
upstairs
.
He
did
not
know
enough
to
ask
the
man
at
the
desk
,
and
began
his
adventures
in
the
philosophy
alcove
.
He
had
heard
of
book
philosophy
,
but
had
not
imagined
there
had
been
so
much
written
about
it
.
The
high
,
bulging
shelves
of
heavy
tomes
humbled
him
and
at
the
same
time
stimulated
him
.
Here
was
work
for
the
vigor
of
his
brain
.
He
found
books
on
trigonometry
in
the
mathematics
section
,
and
ran
the
pages
,
and
stared
at
the
meaningless
formulas
and
figures
.
He
could
read
English
,
but
he
saw
there
an
alien
speech
.
Norman
and
Arthur
knew
that
speech
.
He
had
heard
them
talking
it
.
And
they
were
her
brothers
.
He
left
the
alcove
in
despair
.
From
every
side
the
books
seemed
to
press
upon
him
and
crush
him
.
He
had
never
dreamed
that
the
fund
of
human
knowledge
bulked
so
big
.
He
was
frightened
.
How
could
his
brain
ever
master
it
all
?
Later
,
he
remembered
that
there
were
other
men
,
many
men
,
who
had
mastered
it
;
and
he
breathed
a
great
oath
,
passionately
,
under
his
breath
,
swearing
that
his
brain
could
do
what
theirs
had
done
.
And
so
he
wandered
on
,
alternating
between
depression
and
elation
as
he
stared
at
the
shelves
packed
with
wisdom
.
In
one
miscellaneous
section
he
came
upon
a
"
Norrie
’
s
Epitome
.
"
He
turned
the
pages
reverently
.
In
a
way
,
it
spoke
a
kindred
speech
.
Both
he
and
it
were
of
the
sea
.
Then
he
found
a
"
Bowditch
"
and
books
by
Lecky
and
Marshall
.
There
it
was
;
he
would
teach
himself
navigation
.
He
would
quit
drinking
,
work
up
,
and
become
a
captain
.
Ruth
seemed
very
near
to
him
in
that
moment
.
As
a
captain
,
he
could
marry
her
(
if
she
would
have
him
)
.
And
if
she
wouldn
’
t
,
well
—
he
would
live
a
good
life
among
men
,
because
of
Her
,
and
he
would
quit
drinking
anyway
.
Then
he
remembered
the
underwriters
and
the
owners
,
the
two
masters
a
captain
must
serve
,
either
of
which
could
and
would
break
him
and
whose
interests
were
diametrically
opposed
.
He
cast
his
eyes
about
the
room
and
closed
the
lids
down
on
a
vision
of
ten
thousand
books
.
No
;
no
more
of
the
sea
for
him
.
There
was
power
in
all
that
wealth
of
books
,
and
if
he
would
do
great
things
,
he
must
do
them
on
the
land
.
Besides
,
captains
were
not
allowed
to
take
their
wives
to
sea
with
them
.
Noon
came
,
and
afternoon
.
He
forgot
to
eat
,
and
sought
on
for
the
books
on
etiquette
;
for
,
in
addition
to
career
,
his
mind
was
vexed
by
a
simple
and
very
concrete
problem
:
When
you
meet
a
young
lady
and
she
asks
you
to
call
,
how
soon
can
you
call
?
was
the
way
he
worded
it
to
himself
.
But
when
he
found
the
right
shelf
,
he
sought
vainly
for
the
answer
.
He
was
appalled
at
the
vast
edifice
of
etiquette
,
and
lost
himself
in
the
mazes
of
visiting
-
card
conduct
between
persons
in
polite
society
.
He
abandoned
his
search
.
He
had
not
found
what
he
wanted
,
though
he
had
found
that
it
would
take
all
of
a
man
’
s
time
to
be
polite
,
and
that
he
would
have
to
live
a
preliminary
life
in
which
to
learn
how
to
be
polite
.
"
Did
you
find
what
you
wanted
?
"
the
man
at
the
desk
asked
him
as
he
was
leaving
.
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
he
answered
.
"
You
have
a
fine
library
here
.
"
The
man
nodded
.
"
We
should
be
glad
to
see
you
here
often
.
Are
you
a
sailor
?
"
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
he
answered
.
"
And
I
’
ll
come
again
.
"
