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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 97/241
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On
the
evening
of
the
day
on
which
the
property
was
sold
Stephen
followed
his
father
meekly
about
the
city
from
bar
to
bar
.
To
the
sellers
in
the
market
,
to
the
barmen
and
barmaids
,
to
the
beggars
who
importuned
him
for
a
lob
Mr
Dedalus
told
the
same
tale
--
that
he
was
an
old
Corkonian
,
that
he
had
been
trying
for
thirty
years
to
get
rid
of
his
Cork
accent
up
in
Dublin
and
that
Peter
Pickackafax
beside
him
was
his
eldest
son
but
that
he
was
only
a
Dublin
jackeen
.
They
had
set
out
early
in
the
morning
from
Newcombe
's
coffee-house
,
where
Mr
Dedalus
's
cup
had
rattled
noisily
against
its
saucer
,
and
Stephen
had
tried
to
cover
that
shameful
sign
of
his
father
's
drinking
bout
of
the
night
before
by
moving
his
chair
and
coughing
.
One
humiliation
had
succeeded
another
--
the
false
smiles
of
the
market
sellers
,
the
curvetings
and
oglings
of
the
barmaids
with
whom
his
father
flirted
,
the
compliments
and
encouraging
words
of
his
father
's
friends
.
They
had
told
him
that
he
had
a
great
look
of
his
grandfather
and
Mr
Dedalus
had
agreed
that
he
was
an
ugly
likeness
.
They
had
unearthed
traces
of
a
Cork
accent
in
his
speech
and
made
him
admit
that
the
Lee
was
a
much
finer
river
than
the
Liffey
.
One
of
them
,
in
order
to
put
his
Latin
to
the
proof
,
had
made
him
translate
short
passages
from
Dilectus
and
asked
him
whether
it
was
correct
to
say
:
TEMPORA
MUTANTUR
NOS
ET
MUTAMUR
IN
ILLIS
or
TEMPORA
MUTANTUR
ET
NOS
MUTAMUR
IN
ILLIS
.
Another
,
a
brisk
old
man
,
whom
Mr
Dedalus
called
Johnny
Cashman
,
had
covered
him
with
confusion
by
asking
him
to
say
which
were
prettier
,
the
Dublin
girls
or
the
Cork
girls
.
--
He
's
not
that
way
built
,
said
Mr
Dedalus
.
Leave
him
alone
.
He
's
a
level-headed
thinking
boy
who
does
n't
bother
his
head
about
that
kind
of
nonsense
.
--
Then
he
's
not
his
father
's
son
,
said
the
little
old
man
.
--
I
do
n't
know
,
I
'm
sure
,
said
Mr
Dedalus
,
smiling
complacently
.
--
Your
father
,
said
the
little
old
man
to
Stephen
,
was
the
boldest
flirt
in
the
City
of
Cork
in
his
day
.
Do
you
know
that
?
Stephen
looked
down
and
studied
the
tiled
floor
of
the
bar
into
which
they
had
drifted
.
--
Now
do
n't
be
putting
ideas
into
his
head
,
said
Mr
Dedalus
Leave
him
to
his
Maker
.
--
Yerra
,
sure
I
would
n't
put
any
ideas
into
his
head
.
I
'm
old
enough
to
be
his
grandfather
.
And
I
am
a
grandfather
,
said
the
little
old
man
to
Stephen
.
Do
you
know
that
?
--
Are
you
?
asked
Stephen
.