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- Авторы
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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 28/241
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Stephen
looked
at
the
plump
turkey
which
had
lain
,
trussed
and
skewered
,
on
the
kitchen
table
.
He
knew
that
his
father
had
paid
a
guinea
for
it
in
Dunn
's
of
D'Olier
Street
and
that
the
man
had
prodded
it
often
at
the
breastbone
to
show
how
good
it
was
:
and
he
remembered
the
man
's
voice
when
he
had
said
:
--
Take
that
one
,
sir
.
That
's
the
real
Ally
Daly
.
Why
did
Mr
Barrett
in
Clongowes
call
his
pandybat
a
turkey
?
But
Clongowes
was
far
away
:
and
the
warm
heavy
smell
of
turkey
and
ham
and
celery
rose
from
the
plates
and
dishes
and
the
great
fire
was
banked
high
and
red
in
the
grate
and
the
green
ivy
and
red
holly
made
you
feel
so
happy
and
when
dinner
was
ended
the
big
plum
pudding
would
be
carried
in
,
studded
with
peeled
almonds
and
sprigs
of
holly
,
with
bluish
fire
running
around
it
and
a
little
green
flag
flying
from
the
top
.
It
was
his
first
Christmas
dinner
and
he
thought
of
his
little
brothers
and
sisters
who
were
waiting
in
the
nursery
,
as
he
had
often
waited
,
till
the
pudding
came
.
The
deep
low
collar
and
the
Eton
jacket
made
him
feel
queer
and
oldish
:
and
that
morning
when
his
mother
had
brought
him
down
to
the
parlour
,
dressed
for
mass
,
his
father
had
cried
.
That
was
because
he
was
thinking
of
his
own
father
.
And
uncle
Charles
had
said
so
too
.
Mr
Dedalus
covered
the
dish
and
began
to
eat
hungrily
.
Then
he
said
:
--
Poor
old
Christy
,
he
's
nearly
lopsided
now
with
roguery
.
--
Simon
,
said
Mrs
Dedalus
,
you
have
n't
given
Mrs
Riordan
any
sauce
.
Mr
Dedalus
seized
the
sauceboat
.
--
Have
n't
I
?
he
cried
.
