Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Illustrative, like the preceding one, of the old Proverb, that Adversity brings a Man acquainted wit

           Hewasriding,inimagination,somedesperatesteeplechaseatthatmoment.Poorwretch!Heneverrodeamatchontheswiftestanimalinhiscostlystud,withhalfthespeedatwhichhehadtornalongthecoursethatendedintheFleet.

           Ontheoppositesideoftheroomanoldmanwasseatedonasmallwoodenbox,withhiseyesrivetedonthefloor,andhisfacesettledintoanexpressionofthedeepestandmosthopelessdespair.Ayounggirlhislittlegrand-daughterwashangingabouthim,endeavouring,withathousandchildishdevices,toengagehisattention;buttheoldmanneithersawnorheardher.Thevoicethathadbeenmusictohim,andtheeyesthathadbeenlight,fellcoldlyonhissenses.Hislimbswereshakingwithdisease,andthepalsyhadfastenedonhismind.

           Thereweretwoorthreeothermenintheroom,congregatedinalittleknot,andnoiselesslytalkingamongthemselves.Therewasaleanandhaggardwoman,tooaprisoner’swifewhowaswatering,withgreatsolicitude,thewretchedstumpofadried-up,witheredplant,which,itwasplaintosee,couldneversendforthagreenleafagaintootrueanemblem,perhaps,oftheofficeshehadcometheretodischarge.

           SuchweretheobjectswhichpresentedthemselvestoMr.Pickwick’sview,ashelookedroundhiminamazement.Thenoiseofsomeonestumblinghastilyintotheroom,rousedhim.

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