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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 100/241
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But
the
teller
still
deferred
the
serving
of
others
to
say
he
was
living
in
changed
times
and
that
there
was
nothing
like
giving
a
boy
the
best
education
that
money
could
buy
.
Mr
Dedalus
lingered
in
the
hall
gazing
about
him
and
up
at
the
roof
and
telling
Stephen
,
who
urged
him
to
come
out
,
that
they
were
standing
in
the
house
of
commons
of
the
old
Irish
parliament
.
--
God
help
us
!
he
said
piously
,
to
think
of
the
men
of
those
times
,
Stephen
,
Hely
Hutchinson
and
Flood
and
Henry
Grattan
and
Charles
Kendal
Bushe
,
and
the
noblemen
we
have
now
,
leaders
of
the
Irish
people
at
home
and
abroad
.
Why
,
by
God
,
they
would
n't
be
seen
dead
in
a
ten-acre
field
with
them
.
No
,
Stephen
,
old
chap
,
I
'm
sorry
to
say
that
they
are
only
as
I
roved
out
one
fine
May
morning
in
the
merry
month
of
sweet
July
.
A
keen
October
wind
was
blowing
round
the
bank
.
The
three
figures
standing
at
the
edge
of
the
muddy
path
had
pinched
cheeks
and
watery
eyes
.
Stephen
looked
at
his
thinly
clad
mother
and
remembered
that
a
few
days
before
he
had
seen
a
mantle
priced
at
twenty
guineas
in
the
windows
of
Barnardo
's
.
--
Well
that
's
done
,
said
Mr
Dedalus
.
--
We
had
better
go
to
dinner
,
said
Stephen
.
Where
?
--
Dinner
?
said
Mr
Dedalus
.
Well
,
I
suppose
we
had
better
,
what
?
--
Some
place
that
's
not
too
dear
,
said
Mrs
Dedalus
.
--
Underdone
's
?
--
Yes
.
Some
quiet
place
.
--
Come
along
,
said
Stephen
quickly
.
