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- Джеймс Джойс
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He
picked
his
way
deftly
through
all
that
minute
vermin-like
life
and
under
the
shadow
of
the
gaunt
spectral
mansions
in
which
the
old
nobility
of
Dublin
had
roystered
.
No
memory
of
the
past
touched
him
,
for
his
mind
was
full
of
a
present
joy
.
He
had
never
been
in
Corless
's
but
he
knew
the
value
of
the
name
.
He
knew
that
people
went
there
after
the
theatre
to
eat
oysters
and
drink
liqueurs
;
and
he
had
heard
that
the
waiters
there
spoke
French
and
German
.
Walking
swiftly
by
at
night
he
had
seen
cabs
drawn
up
before
the
door
and
richly
dressed
ladies
,
escorted
by
cavaliers
,
alight
and
enter
quickly
.
They
wore
noisy
dresses
and
many
wraps
.
Their
faces
were
powdered
and
they
caught
up
their
dresses
,
when
they
touched
earth
,
like
alarmed
Atalantas
.
He
had
always
passed
without
turning
his
head
to
look
.
It
was
his
habit
to
walk
swiftly
in
the
street
even
by
day
and
whenever
he
found
himself
in
the
city
late
at
night
he
hurried
on
his
way
apprehensively
and
excitedly
.
Sometimes
,
however
,
he
courted
the
causes
of
his
fear
.
He
chose
the
darkest
and
narrowest
streets
and
,
as
he
walked
boldly
forward
,
the
silence
that
was
spread
about
his
footsteps
troubled
him
,
the
wandering
,
silent
figures
troubled
him
;
and
at
times
a
sound
of
low
fugitive
laughter
made
him
tremble
like
a
leaf
.
He
turned
to
the
right
towards
Capel
Street
.
Ignatius
Gallaher
on
the
London
Press
!
Who
would
have
thought
it
possible
eight
years
before
?
Still
,
now
that
he
reviewed
the
past
,
Little
Chandler
could
remember
many
signs
of
future
greatness
in
his
friend
.
People
used
to
say
that
Ignatius
Gallaher
was
wild
Of
course
,
he
did
mix
with
a
rakish
set
of
fellows
at
that
time
.
drank
freely
and
borrowed
money
on
all
sides
.
In
the
end
he
had
got
mixed
up
in
some
shady
affair
,
some
money
transaction
:
at
least
,
that
was
one
version
of
his
flight
.
But
nobody
denied
him
talent
.
There
was
always
a
certain
...
something
in
Ignatius
Gallaher
that
impressed
you
in
spite
of
yourself
.
Even
when
he
was
out
at
elbows
and
at
his
wits
'
end
for
money
he
kept
up
a
bold
face
.
Little
Chandler
remembered
(
and
the
remembrance
brought
a
slight
flush
of
pride
to
his
cheek
)
one
of
Ignatius
Gallaher
's
sayings
when
he
was
in
a
tight
corner
:
"
Half
time
now
,
boys
,
"
he
used
to
say
light-heartedly
.
"
Where
's
my
considering
cap
?
"
That
was
Ignatius
Gallaher
all
out
;
and
,
damn
it
,
you
could
n't
but
admire
him
for
it
.
Little
Chandler
quickened
his
pace
.
For
the
first
time
in
his
life
he
felt
himself
superior
to
the
people
he
passed
.
For
the
first
time
his
soul
revolted
against
the
dull
inelegance
of
Capel
Street
.
There
was
no
doubt
about
it
:
if
you
wanted
to
succeed
you
had
to
go
away
.
You
could
do
nothing
in
Dublin
.
As
he
crossed
Grattan
Bridge
he
looked
down
the
river
towards
the
lower
quays
and
pitied
the
poor
stunted
houses
.
They
seemed
to
him
a
band
of
tramps
,
huddled
together
along
the
riverbanks
,
their
old
coats
covered
with
dust
and
soot
,
stupefied
by
the
panorama
of
sunset
and
waiting
for
the
first
chill
of
night
bid
them
arise
,
shake
themselves
and
begone
.
He
wondered
whether
he
could
write
a
poem
to
express
his
idea
.
Perhaps
Gallaher
might
be
able
to
get
it
into
some
London
paper
for
him
.
Could
he
write
something
original
?
He
was
not
sure
what
idea
he
wished
to
express
but
the
thought
that
a
poetic
moment
had
touched
him
took
life
within
him
like
an
infant
hope
.
He
stepped
onward
bravely
.
Every
step
brought
him
nearer
to
London
,
farther
from
his
own
sober
inartistic
life
.
A
light
began
to
tremble
on
the
horizon
of
his
mind
.
He
was
not
so
old
--
thirty-two
.
His
temperament
might
be
said
to
be
just
at
the
point
of
maturity
.
There
were
so
many
different
moods
and
impressions
that
he
wished
to
express
in
verse
.
He
felt
them
within
him
.
He
tried
weigh
his
soul
to
see
if
it
was
a
poet
's
soul
.
Melancholy
was
the
dominant
note
of
his
temperament
,
he
thought
,
but
it
was
a
melancholy
tempered
by
recurrences
of
faith
and
resignation
and
simple
joy
.
If
he
could
give
expression
to
it
in
a
book
of
poems
perhaps
men
would
listen
.
He
would
never
be
popular
:
he
saw
that
.
He
could
not
sway
the
crowd
but
he
might
appeal
to
a
little
circle
of
kindred
minds
.
The
English
critics
,
perhaps
,
would
recognise
him
as
one
of
the
Celtic
school
by
reason
of
the
melancholy
tone
of
his
poems
;
besides
that
,
he
would
put
in
allusions
.
He
began
to
invent
sentences
and
phrases
from
the
notice
which
his
book
would
get
.
"
Mr.
Chandler
has
the
gift
of
easy
and
graceful
verse
.
"
...
"
wistful
sadness
pervades
these
poems
.
"
...
"
The
Celtic
note
.
"
It
was
a
pity
his
name
was
not
more
Irish-looking
.
Perhaps
it
would
be
better
to
insert
his
mother
's
name
before
the
surname
:
Thomas
Malone
Chandler
,
or
better
still
:
T.
Malone
Chandler
.
He
would
speak
to
Gallaher
about
it
.
