one in the world can interfere with it. Fill your mind with rubbish, and it’ll rot your head. You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind-- your mind is a palace. And McCourt gets the ball, he goes round one man... he goes up to the second man-- Peggy! Sean! Kathleen, come in for your tea. Come in for the lovely leg of lamb... and the gorgeous green peas, and the floury white potatoes. Oh, shut up, will you, woman? It’s a low-class mind to torment your neighbors... when there’s nothing but bread and tea we have. Get off to work in England like the rest of our husbands. Go and help England win a war? I wouldn’t give the English the steam off my pish. No, you’d rather drink the dole... and watch your sons run around all skin and bone... with their arse hanging out of their trousers. Kathleen, come in for your tea. If I could work, I’d be in the English factories. A factory’s no place for a woman. Sitting on your arse is no place for a man. And the game restarts in the second half. He’s got the ball. He’s going on the run. Oh, you got the ball off him. Get off me, will you? I’m worn out. That’s the end of it for me. No more children. A good Catholic woman should perform her wifely duties. Oh, feck off, will you? You’ll face eternal damnation, Angela. Well, as long as there are no more children, eternal damnation sounds just fine to me, Malachy. Come on, lads, come on. You’ll miss the train. You’ll miss a good job. Come on. We’ve got the Guinness, and we’ve got the Jameson in England, all right? Right. Uh-- Remember your religious duties. And above all, you obey your mother, right? You’re the man of the house now, Francis. Mind yourself. Come on. Let’s go. Mam said all we had to do was wait two weeks... for the telegram with the money order. Soon we’d have enough money for new boots and coats, ham, cabbage and potatoes for dinner, electric light and maybe even a lavatory like they have in America. Now that Dad is gone to England, sure I your troubles would be over. Surely. – Hello. Thank you very much. – Hi. – Thank you. – There he is! Hey, wait! Has ours come? McCourt? – No. – Are you sure? It’s our first telegram. It should be for about three pounds or maybe more. – Sorry. – Can you look in your pouch again? I feckin’ did already. I’ve nothing for you. – Who’s a good boy? – Alphie! Begging for leftovers is worse than the dole. Worse than the St. Vincent de Paul Charity. My own mother begging. This is the worst kind of shame-- begging for the leftovers from the priests’ dinner. Like tinkers holding up their scabby children on street corners. Worse than borrowing from the money lender, Mrs. Finucane. There was only one thing for it. I had to get a job. This is the best morning of all, Frankie, Saturday half day. We start at 8:00 and finish by the time the Angelus rings at 12:00. The dipsy doodle is the thing to beware The dipsy doodle is gonna get in your hair And if it gets you it couldn’tbe worse The things you say will all come out in reverse Don’t go up the mine, Manny That’s the way the dipsy doodle works The dipsy doodle is so easy to find It’s almost always at the back of your mind You never know it’s there until it’s too late And then you get in such a terrible state The moon jumped over the cow, hey diddle That’s the way the dipsy doodle works The man who delivered 16 hundred weight of coal deserves a pint. And the boy who helped him deserves a lemonade. Your eyes look atrocious-- like two piss-holes in the snow. – It’s the coal dust, Uncle Pa. – You’re a great man, Frank. You can help me every Thursday after school. There’s a shilling for you. More power to your elbow, Frankie. He’ll be taking your job yet, you know, John. He called me Frank, not Frankie. For the first time, I feel like a man. A man with a shilling in his pocket. A man ------------------------------ Читайте также: - текст Ежик в тумане на английском - текст Вам и не снилось... на английском - текст На краю Вселенной на английском - текст Пропавший без вести 2: Начало на английском - текст Дни затмения на английском |