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- Шарлотта Гилман
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- Желтые обои
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- Стр. 7/28
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Out
of
one
window
I
can
see
the
garden
,
those
mysterious
deepshaded
arbors
,
the
riotous
old-fashioned
flowers
,
and
bushes
and
gnarly
trees
.
Out
of
another
I
get
a
lovely
view
of
the
bay
and
a
little
private
wharf
belonging
to
the
estate
.
There
is
a
beautiful
shaded
lane
that
runs
down
there
from
the
house
.
I
always
fancy
I
see
people
walking
in
these
numerous
paths
and
arbors
,
but
John
has
cautioned
me
not
to
give
way
to
fancy
in
the
least
.
He
says
that
with
my
imaginative
power
and
habit
of
story-making
,
a
nervous
weakness
like
mine
is
sure
to
lead
to
all
manner
of
excited
fancies
,
and
that
I
ought
to
use
my
will
and
good
sense
to
check
the
tendency
.
So
I
try
.
I
think
sometimes
that
if
I
were
only
well
enough
to
write
a
little
it
would
relieve
the
press
of
ideas
and
rest
me
.
But
I
find
I
get
pretty
tired
when
I
try
.
It
is
so
discouraging
not
to
have
any
advice
and
companionship
about
my
work
.
When
I
get
really
well
,
John
says
we
will
ask
Cousin
Henry
and
Julia
down
for
a
long
visit
;
but
he
says
he
would
as
soon
put
fireworks
in
my
pillow-case
as
to
let
me
have
those
stimulating
people
about
now
.
I
wish
I
could
get
well
faster
.
But
I
must
not
think
about
that
.
This
paper
looks
to
me
as
if
it
KNEW
what
a
vicious
influence
it
had
!
There
is
a
recurrent
spot
where
the
pattern
lolls
like
a
broken
neck
and
two
bulbous
eyes
stare
at
you
upside
down
.
I
get
positively
angry
with
the
impertinence
of
it
and
the
everlastingness
.
Up
and
down
and
sideways
they
crawl
,
and
those
absurd
,
unblinking
eyes
are
everywhere
.
There
is
one
place
where
two
breadths
did
n't
match
,
and
the
eyes
go
all
up
and
down
the
line
,
one
a
little
higher
than
the
other
.
I
never
saw
so
much
expression
in
an
inanimate
thing
before
,
and
we
all
know
how
much
expression
they
have
!
I
used
to
lie
awake
as
a
child
and
get
more
entertainment
and
terror
out
of
blank
walls
and
plain
furniture
than
most
children
could
find
in
a
toy
store
.
