Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Mr. Weller the elder delivers some Critical Sentiments respecting Literary Composition; and, assiste

           

           ‘No,sir,’rejoinedMr.Stiggins;‘No,sir.Iwillnot,sir.’

           Themeetinglookedateachotherwithraisedeyelids;andamurmurofastonishmentranthroughtheroom.

           ‘It’smyopinion,sir,’saidMr.Stiggins,unbuttoninghiscoat,andspeakingveryloudly‘it’smyopinion,sir,thatthismeetingisdrunk,sir.BrotherTadger,sir!’saidMr.Stiggins,suddenlyincreasinginferocity,andturningsharproundonthelittlemaninthedrabshorts,‘YOUaredrunk,sir!’Withthis,Mr.Stiggins,entertainingapraiseworthydesiretopromotethesobrietyofthemeeting,andtoexcludetherefromallimpropercharacters,hitBrotherTadgeronthesummitofthenosewithsuchunerringaim,thatthedrabshortsdisappearedlikeaflashoflightning.BrotherTadgerhadbeenknocked,headfirst,downtheladder.

           Uponthis,thewomensetupaloudanddismalscreaming;andrushinginsmallpartiesbeforetheirfavouritebrothers,flungtheirarmsaroundthemtopreservethemfromdanger.Aninstanceofaffection,whichhadnearlyprovedfataltoHumm,who,beingextremelypopular,wasallbutsuffocated,bythecrowdoffemaledevoteesthathungabouthisneck,andheapedcaressesuponhim.Thegreaterpartofthelightswerequicklyputout,andnothingbutnoiseandconfusionresoundedonallsides.

           ‘Now,Sammy,’saidMr.Weller,takingoffhisgreatcoatwithmuchdeliberation,‘justyoustepout,andfetchinawatchman

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