10 A Little CloudWord文档下载推荐.docx

1、s invitation and of the great city London where Gallaher lived. He was called Little Chandler because, though he was but slightly under the average stature, he gave one the idea of being a little man. His hands were white and small, his frame was fragile, his voice was quiet and his manners were ref

2、ined. He took the greatest care of his fair silken hair and moustache and used perfume discreetly on his handkerchief. The half-moons of his nails were perfect and when he smiled you caught a glimpse of a row of childish white teeth.As he sat at his desk in the Kings Inns he thought what changes tho

3、se eight years had brought. The friend whom he had known under a shabby and necessitous guise had become a brilliant figure on the London Press. He turned often from his tiresome writing to gaze out of the office window. The glow of a late autumn sunset covered the grass plots and walks. It cast a s

4、hower of kindly golden dust on the untidy nurses and decrepit old men who drowsed on the benches; it flickered upon all the moving figures - on the children who ran screaming along the gravel paths and on everyone who passed through the gardens. He watched the scene and thought of life; and （as alwa

5、ys happened when he thought of life） he became sad. A gentle melancholy took possession of him. He felt how useless it was to struggle against fortune, this being the burden of wisdom which the ages had bequeathed to him.He remembered the books of poetry upon his shelves at home. He had bought them

6、in his bachelor days and many an evening, as he sat in the little room off the hall, he had been tempted to take one down from the bookshelf and read out something to his wife. But shyness had always held him back; and so the books had remained on their shelves. At times he repeated lines to himself

7、 and this consoled him.When his hour had struck he stood up and took leave of his desk and of his fellow-clerks punctiliously. He emerged from under the feudal arch of the Kings Inns, a neat modest figure, and walked swiftly down Henrietta Street. The golden sunset was waning and the air had grown s

8、harp. A horde of grimy children populated the street. They stood or ran in the roadway or crawled up the steps before the gaping doors or squatted like mice upon the thresholds. Little Chandler gave them no thought. He picked his way deftly through all that minute vermin-like life and under the shad

9、ow of the gaunt spectral mansions in which the old nobility of Dublin had roystered. No memory of the past touched him, for his mind was full of a present joy.He had never been in Corlesss but he knew the value of the name. He knew that people went there after the theatre to eat oysters and drink li

10、queurs; and he had heard that the waiters there spoke French and German. Walking swiftly by at night he had seen cabs drawn up before the door and richly dressed ladies, escorted by cavaliers, alight and enter quickly. They wore noisy dresses and many wraps. Their faces were powdered and they caught

11、 up their dresses, when they touched earth, like alarmed Atalantas. He had always passed without turning his head to look. It was his habit to walk swiftly in the street even by day and whenever he found himself in the city late at night he hurried on his way apprehensively and excitedly. Sometimes,

12、 however, he courted the causes of his fear. He chose the darkest and narrowest streets and, as he walked boldly forward, the silence that was spread about his footsteps troubled him, the wandering, silent figures troubled him; and at times a sound of low fugitive laughter made him tremble like a le

13、af.He turned to the right towards Capel Street. Ignatius Gallaher on the London Press! Who would have thought it possible eight years before? Still, now that he reviewed the past, Little Chandler could remember many signs of future greatness in his friend. People used to say that Ignatius Gallaher w

14、as wild Of course, he did mix with a rakish set of fellows at that time. drank freely and borrowed money on all sides. In the end he had got mixed up in some shady affair, some money transaction: at least, that was one version of his flight. But nobody denied him talent. There was always a certain.

15、something in Ignatius Gallaher that impressed you in spite of yourself. Even when he was out at elbows and at his wits end for money he kept up a bold face. Little Chandler remembered （and the remembrance brought a slight flush of pride to his cheek） one of Ignatius Gallahers sayings when he was in

16、a tight corner:Half time now, boys, he used to say light-heartedly. Wheres my considering cap?That was Ignatius Gallaher all out; and, damn it, you couldnt but admire him for it.Little Chandler quickened his pace. For the first time in his life he felt himself superior to the people he passed. For t

17、he first time his soul revolted against the dull inelegance of Capel Street. There was no doubt about it: if you wanted to succeed you had to go away. You could do nothing in Dublin. As he crossed Grattan Bridge he looked down the river towards the lower quays and pitied the poor stunted houses. The

18、y seemed to him a band of tramps, huddled together along the riverbanks, their old coats covered with dust and soot, stupefied by the panorama of sunset and waiting for the first chill of night bid them arise, shake themselves and begone. He wondered whether he could write a poem to express his idea

19、. Perhaps Gallaher might be able to get it into some London paper for him. Could he write something original? He was not sure what idea he wished to express but the thought that a poetic moment had touched him took life within him like an infant hope. He stepped onward bravely.Every step brought him

20、 nearer to London, farther from his own sober inartistic life. A light began to tremble on the horizon of his mind. He was not so old - thirty-two. His temperament might be said to be just at the point of maturity. There were so many different moods and impressions that he wished to express in verse

21、. He felt them within him. He tried weigh his soul to see if it was a poets soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy. If he could give expression to it in a book of poems perhaps men

22、 would listen. He would never be popular: he saw that. He could not sway the crowd but he might appeal to a little circle of kindred minds. The English critics, perhaps, would recognise him as one of the Celtic school by reason of the melancholy tone of his poems; besides that, he would put in allus

23、ions. He began to invent sentences and phrases from the notice which his book would get. Mr. Chandler has the gift of easy and graceful verse. . wistful sadness pervades these poems.The Celtic note. It was a pity his name was not more Irish-looking. Perhaps it would be better to insert his mothers n

24、ame before the surname: Thomas Malone Chandler, or better still: T. Malone Chandler. He would speak to Gallaher about it.He pursued his revery so ardently that he passed his street and had to turn back. As he came near Corlesss his former agitation began to overmaster him and he halted before the do

25、or in indecision. Finally he opened the door and entered.The light and noise of the bar held him at the doorways for a few moments. He looked about him, but his sight was confused by the shining of many red and green wine-glasses The bar seemed to him to be full of people and he felt that the people

26、 were observing him curiously. He glanced quickly to right and left （frowning slightly to make his errand appear serious）, but when his sight cleared a little he saw that nobody had turned to look at him: and there, sure enough, was Ignatius Gallaher leaning with his back against the counter and his

27、 feet planted far apart.Hallo, Tommy, old hero, here you are! What is it to be? What will you have? Im taking whisky: better stuff than we get across the water. Soda? Lithia? No mineral?m the same Spoils the flavour. Here, garcon, bring us two halves of malt whisky, like a good fellow. Well, and how

28、 have you been pulling along since I saw you last? Dear God, how old were getting! Do you see any signs of aging in me - eh, what? A little grey and thin on the top - what?Ignatius Gallaher took off his hat and displayed a large closely cropped head. His face was heavy, pale and cleanshaven. His eye

29、s, which were of bluish slate-colour, relieved his unhealthy pallor and shone out plainly above the vivid orange tie he wore. Between these rival features the lips appeared very long and shapeless and colourless. He bent his head and felt with two sympathetic fingers the thin hair at the crown. Litt

30、le Chandler shook his head as a denial. Ignatius Galaher put on his hat again.It pulls you down, be said, Press life. Always hurry and scurry, looking for copy and sometimes not finding it: and then, always to have something new in your stuff. Damn proofs and printers, I say, for a few days. Im deuc

31、ed glad, I can tell you, to get back to the old country. Does a fellow good, a bit of a holiday. I feel a ton better since I landed again in dear dirty Dublin. Here you are, Tommy. Water? Say when.Little Chandler allowed his whisky to be very much diluted.You dont know whats good for you, my boy, said Ignatius Gallahe