Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 1
Thenwhywashesenttothatplacewiththem?Buthisfatherhadtoldhimthathewouldbenostrangertherebecausehisgrandunclehadpresentedanaddresstotheliberatortherefiftyyearsbefore.Youcouldknowthepeopleofthattimebytheirolddress.Itseemedtohimasolemntime:andhewonderedifthatwasthetimewhenthefellowsinClongowesworebluecoatswithbrassbuttonsandyellowwaistcoatsandcapsofrabbitskinanddrankbeerlikegrown-uppeopleandkeptgreyhoundsoftheirowntocoursethehareswith.
Helookedatthewindowandsawthatthedaylighthadgrownweaker.Therewouldbecloudygreylightovertheplaygrounds.Therewasnonoiseontheplaygrounds.TheclassmustbedoingthethemesorperhapsFatherArnallwasreadingoutofthebook.
Itwasqueerthattheyhadnotgivenhimanymedicine.PerhapsBrotherMichaelwouldbringitbackwhenhecame.Theysaidyougotstinkingstufftodrinkwhenyouwereintheinfirmary.Buthefeltbetternowthanbefore.Itwouldbenicegettingbetterslowly.Youcouldgetabookthen.TherewasabookinthelibraryaboutHolland.Therewerelovelyforeignnamesinitandpicturesofstrangelookingcitiesandships.Itmadeyoufeelsohappy.
Howpalethelightwasatthewindow!Butthatwasnice.Thefireroseandfellonthewall.Itwaslikewaves.Someonehadputcoalonandheheardvoices.Theyweretalking.Itwasthenoiseofthewaves.Orthewavesweretalkingamongthemselvesastheyroseandfell.
