Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Too full of Adventure to be briefly described

           

           ‘Who’sthere?’screamedanumerouschorusoftreblevoicesfromthestaircaseinside,consistingofthespinsterladyoftheestablishment,threeteachers,fivefemaleservants,andthirtyboarders,allhalf-dressedandinaforestofcurl-papers.

           OfcourseMr.Pickwickdidn’tsaywhowasthere:andthentheburdenofthechoruschangedinto‘Lor!Iamsofrightened.’

           ‘Cook,’saidtheladyabbess,whotookcaretobeonthetopstair,theverylastofthegroup‘cook,whydon’tyougoalittlewayintothegarden?’‘Please,ma’am,Idon’tlike,’respondedthecook.

           ‘Lor,whatastupidthingthatcookis!’saidthethirtyboarders.

           ‘Cook,’saidtheladyabbess,withgreatdignity;‘don’tanswerme,ifyouplease.Iinsistuponyourlookingintothegardenimmediately.’

           Herethecookbegantocry,andthehousemaidsaiditwas‘ashame!’forwhichpartisanshipshereceivedamonth’swarningonthespot.

           ‘Doyouhear,cook?’saidtheladyabbess,stampingherfootimpatiently.

           ‘Don’tyouhearyourmissis,cook?’saidthethreeteachers.

           ‘Whatanimpudentthingthatcookis!’saidthethirtyboarders.

           Theunfortunatecook,thusstronglyurged,advancedasteportwo,andholdinghercandlejustwhereitpreventedherfromseeingatall,declaredtherewasnothingthere,anditmusthavebeenthewind.

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