Портрет художника в юности

Chapter 1

           Howsadandhowbeautiful!Hewantedtocryquietlybutnotforhimself:forthewords,sobeautifulandsad,likemusic.Thebell!Thebell!Farewell!Ofarewell!

           ThecoldsunlightwasweakerandBrotherMichaelwasstandingathisbedsidewithabowlofbeef-tea.Hewasgladforhismouthwashotanddry.Hecouldhearthemplayingintheplaygrounds.Andthedaywasgoingoninthecollegejustasifhewerethere.

           ThenBrotherMichaelwasgoingawayandthefellowoutofthethirdofgrammartoldhimtobesureandcomebackandtellhimallthenewsinthepaper.HetoldStephenthathisnamewasAthyandthathisfatherkeptalotofracehorsesthatwerespiffingjumpersandthathisfatherwouldgiveagoodtiptoBrotherMichaelanytimehewanteditbecauseBrotherMichaelwasverydecentandalwaystoldhimthenewsoutofthepapertheygoteverydayupinthecastle.Therewaseverykindofnewsinthepaper:accidents,shipwrecks,sports,andpolitics.

           Nowitisallaboutpoliticsinthepapers,hesaid.Doyourpeopletalkaboutthattoo?

           Yes,Stephensaid.

           Minetoo,hesaid.

           Thenhethoughtforamomentandsaid:

           Youhaveaqueername,Dedalus,andIhaveaqueernametoo,Athy.Mynameisthenameofatown.YournameislikeLatin.

           Thenheasked:

           Areyougoodatriddles?

           Stephenanswered:

           Notverygood.

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