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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 3/241
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Pull
out
his
eyes
,
Apologize
,
Apologize
,
Pull
out
his
eyes
.
Apologize
,
Pull
out
his
eyes
,
Pull
out
his
eyes
,
Apologize
.
The
wide
playgrounds
were
swarming
with
boys
.
All
were
shouting
and
the
prefects
urged
them
on
with
strong
cries
.
The
evening
air
was
pale
and
chilly
and
after
every
charge
and
thud
of
the
footballers
the
greasy
leather
orb
flew
like
a
heavy
bird
through
the
grey
light
.
He
kept
on
the
fringe
of
his
line
,
out
of
sight
of
his
prefect
,
out
of
the
reach
of
the
rude
feet
,
feigning
to
run
now
and
then
.
He
felt
his
body
small
and
weak
amid
the
throng
of
the
players
and
his
eyes
were
weak
and
watery
.
Rody
Kickham
was
not
like
that
:
he
would
be
captain
of
the
third
line
all
the
fellows
said
.
Rody
Kickham
was
a
decent
fellow
but
Nasty
Roche
was
a
stink
.
Rody
Kickham
had
greaves
in
his
number
and
a
hamper
in
the
refectory
.
Nasty
Roche
had
big
hands
.
He
called
the
Friday
pudding
dog-in-the-blanket
.
And
one
day
he
had
asked
:
