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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 109/119
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Life
was
complex
in
the
Santa
Clara
Valley
after
the
simplicities
of
the
Northland
.
And
the
chief
thing
demanded
by
these
intricacies
of
civilisation
was
control
,
restraint
--
a
poise
of
self
that
was
as
delicate
as
the
fluttering
of
gossamer
wings
and
at
the
same
time
as
rigid
as
steel
.
Life
had
a
thousand
faces
,
and
White
Fang
found
he
must
meet
them
all
--
thus
,
when
he
went
to
town
,
in
to
San
Jose
,
running
behind
the
carriage
or
loafing
about
the
streets
when
the
carriage
stopped
.
Life
flowed
past
him
,
deep
and
wide
and
varied
,
continually
impinging
upon
his
senses
,
demanding
of
him
instant
and
endless
adjustments
and
correspondences
,
and
compelling
him
,
almost
always
,
to
suppress
his
natural
impulses
.
There
were
butcher-shops
where
meat
hung
within
reach
.
This
meat
he
must
not
touch
.
There
were
cats
at
the
houses
the
master
visited
that
must
be
let
alone
.
And
there
were
dogs
everywhere
that
snarled
at
him
and
that
he
must
not
attack
.
And
then
,
on
the
crowded
sidewalks
there
were
persons
innumerable
whose
attention
he
attracted
.
They
would
stop
and
look
at
him
,
point
him
out
to
one
another
,
examine
him
,
talk
of
him
,
and
,
worst
of
all
,
pat
him
.
And
these
perilous
contacts
from
all
these
strange
hands
he
must
endure
.
Yet
this
endurance
he
achieved
.
Furthermore
,
he
got
over
being
awkward
and
self-conscious
.
In
a
lofty
way
he
received
the
attentions
of
the
multitudes
of
strange
gods
.
With
condescension
he
accepted
their
condescension
.
On
the
other
hand
,
there
was
something
about
him
that
prevented
great
familiarity
.
They
patted
him
on
the
head
and
passed
on
,
contented
and
pleased
with
their
own
daring
.
But
it
was
not
all
easy
for
White
Fang
.
Running
behind
the
carriage
in
the
outskirts
of
San
Jose
,
he
encountered
certain
small
boys
who
made
a
practice
of
flinging
stones
at
him
.
Yet
he
knew
that
it
was
not
permitted
him
to
pursue
and
drag
them
down
.
Here
he
was
compelled
to
violate
his
instinct
of
self-preservation
,
and
violate
it
he
did
,
for
he
was
becoming
tame
and
qualifying
himself
for
civilisation
.
Nevertheless
,
White
Fang
was
not
quite
satisfied
with
the
arrangement
.
He
had
no
abstract
ideas
about
justice
and
fair
play
.
But
there
is
a
certain
sense
of
equity
that
resides
in
life
,
and
it
was
this
sense
in
him
that
resented
the
unfairness
of
his
being
permitted
no
defence
against
the
stone-throwers
.
He
forgot
that
in
the
covenant
entered
into
between
him
and
the
gods
they
were
pledged
to
care
for
him
and
defend
him
.
But
one
day
the
master
sprang
from
the
carriage
,
whip
in
hand
,
and
gave
the
stone-throwers
a
thrashing
.
After
that
they
threw
stones
no
more
,
and
White
Fang
understood
and
was
satisfied
.
One
other
experience
of
similar
nature
was
his
.
On
the
way
to
town
,
hanging
around
the
saloon
at
the
cross-roads
,
were
three
dogs
that
made
a
practice
of
rushing
out
upon
him
when
he
went
by
.
Knowing
his
deadly
method
of
fighting
,
the
master
had
never
ceased
impressing
upon
White
Fang
the
law
that
he
must
not
fight
.
As
a
result
,
having
learned
the
lesson
well
,
White
Fang
was
hard
put
whenever
he
passed
the
cross-roads
saloon
.
After
the
first
rush
,
each
time
,
his
snarl
kept
the
three
dogs
at
a
distance
but
they
trailed
along
behind
,
yelping
and
bickering
and
insulting
him
.
This
endured
for
some
time
.
The
men
at
the
saloon
even
urged
the
dogs
on
to
attack
White
Fang
.
One
day
they
openly
sicked
the
dogs
on
him
.
The
master
stopped
the
carriage
.
"
Go
to
it
,
"
he
said
to
White
Fang
.
But
White
Fang
could
not
believe
.
He
looked
at
the
master
,
and
he
looked
at
the
dogs
.
Then
he
looked
back
eagerly
and
questioningly
at
the
master
.
The
master
nodded
his
head
.
"
Go
to
them
,
old
fellow
.
Eat
them
up
.
"
