Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

How Mr. Winkle, when he stepped out of the Frying-pan, walked gently and comfortably into the Fire

           

           ‘Nomistakeaboutthat‘ere,Sir,’repliedanothervoicethroughthekeyhole;‘andifthatwerysameinterestin’youngcreeturain’tletinvithoutdelay,it’swerypossibleashislegsvillenteraforehiscountenance.’Theyoungmangaveagentlekickatoneofthe

           lowerpanelsofthedoor,afterhehadgivenutterancetothishint,asiftoaddforceandpointtotheremark.

           ‘Isthatyou,Sam?’inquiredMr.Winkle,springingoutofbed.

           ‘Quiteunpossibletoidentifyanygen’l’m’nvithanydegreeo’mentalsatisfaction,vithoutlookin’athim,Sir,’repliedthevoicedogmatically.

           Mr.Winkle,notmuchdoubtingwhotheyoungmanwas,unlockedthedoor;whichhehadnosoonerdonethanMr.SamuelWellerenteredwithgreatprecipitation,andcarefullyrelockingitontheinside,deliberatelyputthekeyinhiswaistcoatpocket;and,aftersurveyingMr.Winklefromheadtofoot,said

           ‘You’reaweryhumorousyounggen’l’m’n,youair,Sir!’

           ‘Whatdoyoumeanbythisconduct,Sam?’inquiredMr.Winkleindignantly.‘Getout,sir,thisinstant.Whatdoyoumean,Sir?’

           ‘WhatdoImean,’retortedSam;‘come,Sir,thisisraythertoorich,astheyoungladysaidwhensheremonstratedwiththepastry-cook,arterhe’dsoldheraporkpieashadgotnothin’butfatinside.WhatdoImean!Well,thatain’tabad‘un,thatain’t.

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