Мхи старой усадьбы
The Artist of the Beautiful
Owenexaminedthearticleandpronounceditfashionedaccordingtohiswish.
"Why,yes,"saidRobertDanforth,hisstrongvoicefillingtheshopaswiththesoundofabassviol,"Iconsidermyselfequaltoanythinginthewayofmyowntrade;thoughIshouldhavemadebutapoorfigureatyourswithsuchafistasthis,"addedhe,laughing,ashelaidhisvasthandbesidethedelicateoneofOwen."Butwhatthen?Iputmoremainstrengthintooneblowofmysledgehammerthanallthatyouhaveexpendedsinceyouwerea’prentice.Isnotthatthetruth?"
"Veryprobably,"answeredthelowandslendervoiceofOwen."Strengthisanearthlymonster.Imakenopretensionstoit.Myforce,whatevertheremaybeofit,isaltogetherspiritual."
"Well,but,Owen,whatareyouabout?"askedhisoldschool-fellow,stillinsuchaheartyvolumeoftonethatitmadetheartistshrink,especiallyasthequestionrelatedtoasubjectsosacredastheabsorbingdreamofhisimagination."Folksdosaythatyouaretryingtodiscovertheperpetualmotion."
"Theperpetualmotion?Nonsense!"repliedOwenWarland,withamovementofdisgust;forhewasfulloflittlepetulances."Itcanneverbediscovered.Itisadreamthatmaydeludemenwhosebrainsaremystifiedwithmatter,butnotme.Besides,ifsuchadiscoverywerepossible,itwouldnotbeworthmywhiletomakeitonlytohavethesecretturnedtosuchpurposesasarenoweffectedbysteamandwaterpower.Iamnotambitioustobehonoredwiththepaternityofanewkindofcottonmachine.
