"T. H. White - The Once and Future King" - читать интересную книгу автора (White T.H)

" 'Now,' says she, 'I could make the ship be struck against the coast.' You could not do that,' says the
father. Well, look at me now,' says the little girl, and she jumped into the well. The ship was dashed
against the coast and broken into a thousand pieces. 'Who has taught you to do these things?' asked the
father. 'My mother. And when you do be at working she teaches me to do things with the Tub at home.'"
"Why did she jump into the well?" asked Agravaine. "Was she wet?" "Hush."
"When this man got home to his wife, he set down his turf-cutter and put himself in his sitting. Then he
said, 'What have you been teaching to the little girl? I do not like to have this piseog in my house, and I
will not stay with you any longer.' So he went away, and they never saw a one of him again. I do not

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know how they went on after that." "It must be dreadful to have a witch for a mother," said Gareth when
he had finished. "Or for a wife," said Gawaine.
"It's worse not to be having a wife at all," said the saint, and he vanished into his beehive with startling
suddenness, like the man in the Swiss weather clock who retires into a hole when it is going to be fine.
The boys sat round the door without surprise, waiting for something else to happen. They considered in
their minds the questions of wells, witches, unicorns and the practices of mothers.
"I make this proposition," said Gareth unexpectedly, "my heroes, that we have a unicorn hunt of our
own!" They looked at him.
"It would be better than not having anything. We have not seen our Mammy for one week."
"She has forgotten us," said Agravaine bitterly. "She has not so. You are not to speak in that way of our
mother."
"It is true. We have not been to serve at dinner even." "It is because she has a necessity to be hospitable
to these knights." "No, it is not." "What is it, then?" "I will not say."
"If we could do a unicorn hunt," said Gareth, "and bring this unicorn which she requires, perhaps we
would be allowed to serve?" They considered the idea with a beginning of hope.
"St, Toirdealbhach," they shouted, "come out again! We want to catch a unicorn."
The saint put his head out of the hole and examined them suspiciously.
"What is a unicorn? What are they like? How do you catch them?"
He nodded the head solemnly and vanished for the second time, to return on all fours in a few moments
with a learned volume, the only secular work in his possession. Like most saints, he made his living by
copying manuscripts and drawing pictures for them.
"You need a maid for bait," they told him.
"We have goleor of maids," said Gareth. "We could take any of the maids, or cook."
"They would not come."
"We could take the kitchenmaid. We could make her to come."
"And then, when we have caught the unicorn which is wanted, we will bring it home in triumph and give
it to our mother! We will serve at supper every night!"
"She will be pleased."
"Perhaps after supper, whatever the event."


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"And Sir Grummore will knight us. He will say, 'Never has such a doughty deed been done, by my
halidome!'"