The Garden Party, and Other Stories

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Katherine Mansfield. The Garden Party, and Other Stories

1. AT THE BAY

Chapter 1.I

Chapter 1.II

Chapter 1.III

Chapter 1.IV

Chapter 1.V

Chapter 1.VI

Chapter 1.VII

Chapter 1.VIII

Chapter 1.IX

Chapter 1.X

Chapter 1.XI

Chapter 1.XII

Chapter 1.XIII

2. THE GARDEN PARTY

3. THE DAUGHTERS OF THE LATE COLONEL

Chapter 3.I

Chapter 3.II

Chapter 3.III

Chapter 3.IV

Chapter 3.V

Chapter 3.VI

Chapter 3.VII

Chapter 3.VIII

Chapter 3.IX

Chapter 3.X

Chapter 3.XI

Chapter 3.XII

4. MR. AND MRS. DOVE

5. THE YOUNG GIRL

6. LIFE OF MA PARKER

7. MARRIAGE A LA MODE

8. THE VOYAGE

9. MISS BRILL

10. HER FIRST BALL

11. THE SINGING LESSON

12. THE STRANGER

13. BANK HOLIDAY

14. AN IDEAL FAMILY

15. THE LADY’S MAID

Отрывок из книги

Very early morning. The sun was not yet risen, and the whole of Crescent Bay was hidden under a white sea-mist. The big bush-covered hills at the back were smothered. You could not see where they ended and the paddocks and bungalows began. The sandy road was gone and the paddocks and bungalows the other side of it; there were no white dunes covered with reddish grass beyond them; there was nothing to mark which was beach and where was the sea. A heavy dew had fallen. The grass was blue. Big drops hung on the bushes and just did not fall; the silvery, fluffy toi-toi was limp on its long stalks, and all the marigolds and the pinks in the bungalow gardens were bowed to the earth with wetness. Drenched were the cold fuchsias, round pearls of dew lay on the flat nasturtium leaves. It looked as though the sea had beaten up softly in the darkness, as though one immense wave had come rippling, rippling—how far? Perhaps if you had waked up in the middle of the night you might have seen a big fish flicking in at the window and gone again....

Ah-Aah! sounded the sleepy sea. And from the bush there came the sound of little streams flowing, quickly, lightly, slipping between the smooth stones, gushing into ferny basins and out again; and there was the splashing of big drops on large leaves, and something else—what was it?—a faint stirring and shaking, the snapping of a twig and then such silence that it seemed some one was listening.

.....

Even Alice, the servant-girl, was drawn into the chase. “You haven’t been using it to poke the kitchen fire with by any chance?”

Stanley dashed into the bedroom where Linda was lying. “Most extraordinary thing. I can’t keep a single possession to myself. They’ve made away with my stick, now!”

.....