Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

The first Day’s Journey, and the first Evening’s Adventures; with their Consequences

           

           ‘Wemayplaceourmen,then,Ithink,’observedtheofficer,withasmuchindifferenceasiftheprincipalswerechess-men,andthesecondsplayers.

           ‘Ithinkwemay,’repliedMr.Snodgrass;whowouldhaveassentedtoanyproposition,becauseheknewnothingaboutthematter.TheofficercrossedtoDoctorSlammer,andMr.SnodgrasswentuptoMr.Winkle.

           ‘It’sallready,’saidhe,offeringthepistol.‘Givemeyourcloak.’

           ‘Youhavegotthepacket,mydearfellow,’saidpoorWinkle.‘Allright,’saidMr.Snodgrass.‘Besteady,andwinghim.’

           ItoccurredtoMr.Winklethatthisadvicewasverylikethatwhichbystandersinvariablygivetothesmallestboyinastreetfight,namely,‘Goin,andwin’—anadmirablethingtorecommend,ifyouonlyknowhowtodoit.Hetookoffhiscloak,however,insilenceitalwaystookalongtimetoundothatcloakandacceptedthepistol.Thesecondsretired,thegentlemanonthecamp-stooldidthesame,andthebelligerentsapproachedeachother.

           Mr.Winklewasalwaysremarkableforextremehumanity.Itisconjecturedthathisunwillingnesstohurtafellow-creatureintentionallywasthecauseofhisshuttinghiseyeswhenhearrivedatthefatalspot;andthatthecircumstanceofhiseyesbeingclosed,preventedhisobservingtheveryextraordinaryandunaccountabledemeanourofDoctorSlammer.

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