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- Джеймс Джойс
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The
reading
of
the
card
persuaded
me
that
he
was
dead
and
I
was
disturbed
to
find
myself
at
check
.
Had
he
not
been
dead
I
would
have
gone
into
the
little
dark
room
behind
the
shop
to
find
him
sitting
in
his
arm-chair
by
the
fire
,
nearly
smothered
in
his
great-coat
.
Perhaps
my
aunt
would
have
given
me
a
packet
of
High
Toast
for
him
and
this
present
would
have
roused
him
from
his
stupefied
doze
.
It
was
always
I
who
emptied
the
packet
into
his
black
snuff-box
for
his
hands
trembled
too
much
to
allow
him
to
do
this
without
spilling
half
the
snuff
about
the
floor
.
Even
as
he
raised
his
large
trembling
hand
to
his
nose
little
clouds
of
smoke
dribbled
through
his
fingers
over
the
front
of
his
coat
.
It
may
have
been
these
constant
showers
of
snuff
which
gave
his
ancient
priestly
garments
their
green
faded
look
for
the
red
handkerchief
,
blackened
,
as
it
always
was
,
with
the
snuff-stains
of
a
week
,
with
which
he
tried
to
brush
away
the
fallen
grains
,
was
quite
inefficacious
.
I
wished
to
go
in
and
look
at
him
but
I
had
not
the
courage
to
knock
.
I
walked
away
slowly
along
the
sunny
side
of
the
street
,
reading
all
the
theatrical
advertisements
in
the
shop-windows
as
I
went
.
I
found
it
strange
that
neither
I
nor
the
day
seemed
in
a
mourning
mood
and
I
felt
even
annoyed
at
discovering
in
myself
a
sensation
of
freedom
as
if
I
had
been
freed
from
something
by
his
death
.
I
wondered
at
this
for
,
as
my
uncle
had
said
the
night
before
,
he
had
taught
me
a
great
deal
.
He
had
studied
in
the
Irish
college
in
Rome
and
he
had
taught
me
to
pronounce
Latin
properly
.
He
had
told
me
stories
about
the
catacombs
and
about
Napoleon
Bonaparte
,
and
he
had
explained
to
me
the
meaning
of
the
different
ceremonies
of
the
Mass
and
of
the
different
vestments
worn
by
the
priest
.
Sometimes
he
had
amused
himself
by
putting
difficult
questions
to
me
,
asking
me
what
one
should
do
in
certain
circumstances
or
whether
such
and
such
sins
were
mortal
or
venial
or
only
imperfections
.
His
questions
showed
me
how
complex
and
mysterious
were
certain
institutions
of
the
Church
which
I
had
always
regarded
as
the
simplest
acts
.
The
duties
of
the
priest
towards
the
Eucharist
and
towards
the
secrecy
of
the
confessional
seemed
so
grave
to
me
that
I
wondered
how
anybody
had
ever
found
in
himself
the
courage
to
undertake
them
;
and
I
was
not
surprised
when
he
told
me
that
the
fathers
of
the
Church
had
written
books
as
thick
as
the
Post
Office
Directory
and
as
closely
printed
as
the
law
notices
in
the
newspaper
,
elucidating
all
these
intricate
questions
.
Often
when
I
thought
of
this
I
could
make
no
answer
or
only
a
very
foolish
and
halting
one
upon
which
he
used
to
smile
and
nod
his
head
twice
or
thrice
.
Sometimes
he
used
to
put
me
through
the
responses
of
the
Mass
which
he
had
made
me
learn
by
heart
;
and
,
as
I
pattered
,
he
used
to
smile
pensively
and
nod
his
head
,
now
and
then
pushing
huge
pinches
of
snuff
up
each
nostril
alternately
.
When
he
smiled
he
used
to
uncover
his
big
discoloured
teeth
and
let
his
tongue
lie
upon
his
lower
lip
--
a
habit
which
had
made
me
feel
uneasy
in
the
beginning
of
our
acquaintance
before
I
knew
him
well
.
As
I
walked
along
in
the
sun
I
remembered
old
Cotter
's
words
and
tried
to
remember
what
had
happened
afterwards
in
the
dream
.
I
remembered
that
I
had
noticed
long
velvet
curtains
and
a
swinging
lamp
of
antique
fashion
.
I
felt
that
I
had
been
very
far
away
,
in
some
land
where
the
customs
were
strange
--
in
Persia
,
I
thought
...
.
But
I
could
not
remember
the
end
of
the
dream
.
In
the
evening
my
aunt
took
me
with
her
to
visit
the
house
of
mourning
.
It
was
after
sunset
;
but
the
window-panes
of
the
houses
that
looked
to
the
west
reflected
the
tawny
gold
of
a
great
bank
of
clouds
.
Nannie
received
us
in
the
hall
;
and
,
as
it
would
have
been
unseemly
to
have
shouted
at
her
,
my
aunt
shook
hands
with
her
for
all
.
The
old
woman
pointed
upwards
interrogatively
and
,
on
my
aunt
's
nodding
,
proceeded
to
toil
up
the
narrow
staircase
before
us
,
her
bowed
head
being
scarcely
above
the
level
of
the
banister-rail
.
At
the
first
landing
she
stopped
and
beckoned
us
forward
encouragingly
towards
the
open
door
of
the
dead-room
.
My
aunt
went
in
and
the
old
woman
,
seeing
that
I
hesitated
to
enter
,
began
to
beckon
to
me
again
repeatedly
with
her
hand
.
I
went
in
on
tiptoe
.
The
room
through
the
lace
end
of
the
blind
was
suffused
with
dusky
golden
light
amid
which
the
candles
looked
like
pale
thin
flames
.
He
had
been
coffined
.
Nannie
gave
the
lead
and
we
three
knelt
down
at
the
foot
of
the
bed
.
I
pretended
to
pray
but
I
could
not
gather
my
thoughts
because
the
old
woman
's
mutterings
distracted
me
.
I
noticed
how
clumsily
her
skirt
was
hooked
at
the
back
and
how
the
heels
of
her
cloth
boots
were
trodden
down
all
to
one
side
.
The
fancy
came
to
me
that
the
old
priest
was
smiling
as
he
lay
there
in
his
coffin
.
But
no
.
When
we
rose
and
went
up
to
the
head
of
the
bed
I
saw
that
he
was
not
smiling
.
There
he
lay
,
solemn
and
copious
,
vested
as
for
the
altar
,
his
large
hands
loosely
retaining
a
chalice
.
His
face
was
very
truculent
,
grey
and
massive
,
with
black
cavernous
nostrils
and
circled
by
a
scanty
white
fur
.
There
was
a
heavy
odour
in
the
room
--
the
flowers
.
