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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 12/241
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It
made
him
very
tired
to
think
that
way
.
It
made
him
feel
his
head
very
big
.
He
turned
over
the
flyleaf
and
looked
wearily
at
the
green
round
earth
in
the
middle
of
the
maroon
clouds
.
He
wondered
which
was
right
,
to
be
for
the
green
or
for
the
maroon
,
because
Dante
had
ripped
the
green
velvet
back
off
the
brush
that
was
for
Parnell
one
day
with
her
scissors
and
had
told
him
that
Parnell
was
a
bad
man
.
He
wondered
if
they
were
arguing
at
home
about
that
.
That
was
called
politics
.
There
were
two
sides
in
it
:
Dante
was
on
one
side
and
his
father
and
Mr
Casey
were
on
the
other
side
but
his
mother
and
uncle
Charles
were
on
no
side
.
Every
day
there
was
something
in
the
paper
about
it
.
It
pained
him
that
he
did
not
know
well
what
politics
meant
and
that
he
did
not
know
where
the
universe
ended
.
He
felt
small
and
weak
.
When
would
he
be
like
the
fellows
in
poetry
and
rhetoric
?
They
had
big
voices
and
big
boots
and
they
studied
trigonometry
.
That
was
very
far
away
.
First
came
the
vacation
and
then
the
next
term
and
then
vacation
again
and
then
again
another
term
and
then
again
the
vacation
.
It
was
like
a
train
going
in
and
out
of
tunnels
and
that
was
like
the
noise
of
the
boys
eating
in
the
refectory
when
you
opened
and
closed
the
flaps
of
the
ears
.
Term
,
vacation
;
tunnel
,
out
;
noise
,
stop
.
How
far
away
it
was
!
It
was
better
to
go
to
bed
to
sleep
.
Only
prayers
in
the
chapel
and
then
bed
.
He
shivered
and
yawned
.
It
would
be
lovely
in
bed
after
the
sheets
got
a
bit
hot
.
First
they
were
so
cold
to
get
into
.
He
shivered
to
think
how
cold
they
were
first
.
But
then
they
got
hot
and
then
he
could
sleep
.
It
was
lovely
to
be
tired
.
He
yawned
again
.
Night
prayers
and
then
bed
:
he
shivered
and
wanted
to
yawn
.
It
would
be
lovely
in
a
few
minutes
.
He
felt
a
warm
glow
creeping
up
from
the
cold
shivering
sheets
,
warmer
and
warmer
till
he
felt
warm
all
over
,
ever
so
warm
and
yet
he
shivered
a
little
and
still
wanted
to
yawn
.
The
bell
rang
for
night
prayers
and
he
filed
out
of
the
study
hall
after
the
others
and
down
the
staircase
and
along
the
corridors
to
the
chapel
.
The
corridors
were
darkly
lit
and
the
chapel
was
darkly
lit
.
Soon
all
would
be
dark
and
sleeping
.
There
was
cold
night
air
in
the
chapel
and
the
marbles
were
the
colour
the
sea
was
at
night
.
The
sea
was
cold
day
and
night
:
but
it
was
colder
at
night
.
It
was
cold
and
dark
under
the
seawall
beside
his
father
's
house
.
But
the
kettle
would
be
on
the
hob
to
make
punch
.
The
prefect
of
the
chapel
prayed
above
his
head
and
his
memory
knew
the
responses
:
O
Lord
open
our
lips
And
our
mouths
shall
announce
Thy
praise
.
Incline
unto
our
aid
,
O
God
!
O
Lord
make
haste
to
help
us
!
There
was
a
cold
night
smell
in
the
chapel
.
But
it
was
a
holy
smell
.
It
was
not
like
the
smell
of
the
old
peasants
who
knelt
at
the
back
of
the
chapel
at
Sunday
mass
.
That
was
a
smell
of
air
and
rain
and
turf
and
corduroy
.
But
they
were
very
holy
peasants
.
They
breathed
behind
him
On
his
neck
and
sighed
as
they
prayed
.
They
lived
in
Clane
,
a
fellow
said
:
there
were
little
cottages
there
and
he
had
seen
a
woman
standing
at
the
half-door
of
a
cottage
with
a
child
in
her
arms
as
the
cars
had
come
past
from
Sallins
.
It
would
be
lovely
to
sleep
for
one
night
in
that
cottage
before
the
fire
of
smoking
turf
,
in
the
dark
lit
by
the
fire
,
in
the
warm
dark
,
breathing
the
smell
of
the
peasants
,
air
and
rain
and
turf
and
corduroy
.
But
O
,
the
road
there
between
the
trees
was
dark
!
You
would
be
lost
in
the
dark
.
It
made
him
afraid
to
think
of
how
it
was
.
