Дэвид Копперфильд

I Am a New Boy in More Senses than One

           Ashewalkedupanddownthatpartofthecourtyardwhichwasatthesideofthehouse,withthestrayrooksandjackdawslookingafterhimwiththeirheadscockedslyly,asiftheyknewhowmuchmoreknowingtheywereinworldlyaffairsthanhe,ifanysortofvagabondcouldonlygetnearenoughtohiscreakingshoestoattracthisattentiontoonesentenceofataleofdistress,thatvagabondwasmadeforthenexttwodays.Itwassonotoriousinthehouse,thatthemastersandhead-boystookpainstocutthesemaraudersoffatangles,andtogetoutofwindows,andturnthemoutofthecourtyard,beforetheycouldmaketheDoctorawareoftheirpresence;whichwassometimeshappilyeffectedwithinafewyardsofhim,withouthisknowinganythingofthematter,ashejoggedtoandfro.Outsidehisowndomain,andunprotected,hewasaverysheepfortheshearers.Hewouldhavetakenhisgaitersoffhislegs,togiveaway.Infact,therewasastorycurrentamongus(Ihavenoidea,andneverhad,onwhatauthority,butIhavebelieveditforsomanyyearsthatIfeelquitecertainitistrue),thatonafrostyday,onewinter-time,heactuallydidbestowhisgaitersonabeggar-woman,whooccasionedsomescandalintheneighbourhoodbyexhibitingafineinfantfromdoortodoor,wrappedinthosegarments,whichwereuniversallyrecognized,beingaswellknowninthevicinityastheCathedral.

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