Дублінці
A Mother
Kearney,withherhusbandanddaughter,arrivedattheAntientConcertRoomsthree-quartersofanhourbeforethetimeatwhichtheconcertwastobegin.Byillluckitwasarainyevening.Mrs.Kearneyplacedherdaughter’sclothesandmusicinchargeofherhusbandandwentalloverthebuildinglookingforMr.HolohanorMr.Fitzpatrick.Shecouldfindneither.Sheaskedthestewardswasanymemberofthecommitteeinthehalland,afteragreatdealoftrouble,astewardbroughtoutalittlewomannamedMissBeirnetowhomMrs.Kearneyexplainedthatshewantedtoseeoneofthesecretaries.MissBeirneexpectedthemanyminuteandaskedcouldshedoanything.Mrs.Kearneylookedsearchinglyattheoldishfacewhichwasscrewedintoanexpressionoftrustfulnessandenthusiasmandanswered:
“No,thankyou!”
Thelittlewomanhopedtheywouldhaveagoodhouse.Shelookedoutattherainuntilthemelancholyofthewetstreeteffacedallthetrustfulnessandenthusiasmfromhertwistedfeatures.Thenshegavealittlesighandsaid:
“Ah,well!Wedidourbest,thedearknows.”
Mrs.Kearneyhadtogobacktothedressing-room.
Theartisteswerearriving.Thebassandthesecondtenorhadalreadycome.Thebass,Mr.Duggan,wasaslenderyoungmanwithascatteredblackmoustache.Hewasthesonofahallporterinanofficeinthecityand,asaboy,hehadsungprolongedbassnotesintheresoundinghall.
