Дублинцы

           AtnightinmybedroomandbydayintheclassroomherimagecamebetweenmeandthepageIstrovetoread.ThesyllablesofthewordArabywerecalledtomethroughthesilenceinwhichmysoulluxuriatedandcastanEasternenchantmentoverme.IaskedforleavetogotothebazaaronSaturdaynight.MyauntwassurprisedandhopeditwasnotsomeFreemasonaffair.Iansweredfewquestionsinclass.Iwatchedmymaster’sfacepassfromamiabilitytosternness;hehopedIwasnotbeginningtoidle.Icouldnotcallmywanderingthoughtstogether.Ihadhardlyanypatiencewiththeseriousworkoflifewhich,nowthatitstoodbetweenmeandmydesire,seemedtomechild’splay,uglymonotonouschild’splay.

           OnSaturdaymorningIremindedmyunclethatIwishedtogotothebazaarintheevening.Hewasfussingatthehallstand,lookingforthehat-brush,andansweredmecurtly:

           “Yes,boy,Iknow.”

           AshewasinthehallIcouldnotgointothefrontparlourandlieatthewindow.Ileftthehouseinbadhumourandwalkedslowlytowardstheschool.Theairwaspitilesslyrawandalreadymyheartmisgaveme.

           WhenIcamehometodinnermyunclehadnotyetbeenhome.Stillitwasearly.Isatstaringattheclockforsometimeand.whenitstickingbegantoirritateme,Ilefttheroom.Imountedthestaircaseandgainedtheupperpartofthehouse.ThehighcoldemptygloomyroomsliberatedmeandIwentfromroomtoroomsinging.