Дні мрій
A Departure
Whydoesacomingbereavementprojectnothinfaintvoice,noshadowofitswoe,towarnitshappy,heedlessvictims?WhycannotOlympianseverthinkitworthwhiletogivesomehintofthethunderboltstheyaresilentlyforging?Andwhy,oh,whydiditneverenteranyofourthickheadsthatthedaywouldcomewhenevenCharlottewouldbeconsideredtoomatronlyfortoys?One’sso-callededucationishammeredintoonewithrulersandwithcanes.Eachfreshgrammarormusicalinstrument,eachnewhistoricalperiodorquaintarithmeticalrule,isimpressedononebysomepainfulphysicalprelude.WhydoesTime,thebiggestSchoolmaster,aloneneglectpremonitoryraps,ateachstageofhiscurriculum,onourknucklesorourheads?
UncleThomaswasatthebottomofit.Thiswasnotthefirstminehehadexplodedunderourbows.InhisfavouritepursuitoffadshehadpassedinturnfromPsychicalResearchtotheWhiteRoseandthencetoaChildren’sHospital,andwewerebeingdailyinundatedwithleafletsheadedbyawoodcutdepictingLittleAnnie(ofPoplar)sittingupinherlittlewhitecot,surroundedbythetoysofthenice,kind,richchildren.
