Дні мрій
Its Walls Were As Of Jasper
Really,itwasjustasifeverythinghadbeenarrangedforme.Thiswasnotsuchabadsortofhouseafterall.
Thebeginningsofthethingweregayborders—scrollsandstrap-workanddiaperedbackgrounds,amazeofcolour,withsmallmisshapenfiguresclamberingcheerilyupanddowneverywhere.ButfirstIeagerlyscannedwhattexttherewasinthemiddle,inordertogetahintofwhatitwasallabout.OfcourseIwasnotgoingtowasteanytimeinreading.Aclue,asign-board,afinger-postwasallIrequired.Tomydismayanddisgustitwasallinastupidforeignlanguage!Really,theperversityofsomepeoplemadeoneattimesalmostdespairofthewholerace.However,thepicturesremained;picturesneverlied,nevershufflednorevaded;andasforthestory,Icouldinventitmyself.
OverthepageIwent,shiftingthebitofcoaltoanewposition;and,astheschemeofthepicturedisengageditselffromoutthemedleyofcolourthatmetmydelightedeyes,firsttherewasawarmsenseoffamiliarity,thenadawningrecognition,andthen—Othen!alongwithblissfulcertaintycametheimperiousneedtoclaspmystomachwithbothhands,inordertorepresstheshoutofrapturethatstruggledtoescape—itwasmyownlittlecity!
Iknewitwellenough,Irecognizeditatonce,thoughIhadneverbeenquitesonearitbefore.Herewasthefamiliargateway,totheleftthatstrange,slendertowerwithitsgrim,squareheadshotfarabovethewalls;totheright,outsidethetown,thehill—asofold—brokesteeplydowntothesea.
