Дні мрій
Its Walls Were As Of Jasper
Mybeautifulbookwasgonetoo—ravishedfrommygraspbythedressylady,whojoinedintheoutburstofdenunciationasheartilyasifshehadbeenarelative—andnaughtwasleftmebuttoblubberdismally,awakenedofasuddentotheharshnessofrealthingsandtheunnumberedhostilitiesoftheactualworld.Icaredlittlefortheirreproaches,theirabuse;butIsorrowedheartilyformylostship,myvanishedisland,myuneatendinner,andfortheknowledgethat,ifIwantedanyangelstoplaywith,Imusthenceforthputupwiththeanaemic,night-gownednonentitiesthathoveredoverthebedoftheSunday-schoolchildinthepagesoftheSabbathImprover.
Iwasledignominiouslyoutofthehouse,inapulpy,waterystate,whilethebutlerhandledhisswingdoorswithastony,impassivecountenance,intendedforthedeceptionoftheveryelect,thoughitdidnotdeceiveme.Iknewwellenoughthatnexttimehewasoffduty,andstrolledaroundourway,weshouldmeetinourkitchenasmantoman,andIwouldpunchhimandaskhimriddles,andhewouldteachmetrickswithcorksandbitsofstring.Sohisunsympatheticmannerdidnotaddtomydepression.
Imaintainedadiplomaticblubberlongafterwehadbeenpackedintoourpony-carriageandthelodge-gatehadclickedbehindus,becauseitservedasasortofarmour-platingagainsthecklingandargumentandabuse,andIwasthinkinghardandwantedtobeletalone.AndthethoughtsthatIwasthinkingweretwo
