Дэвид Копперфильд

I Look About Me, and Make a Discovery

           

           Iwasnotawareofitmyself,butIfeltitnecessarytoupholdtheinstitutionsofmycounty,andtoevinceafamiliaritywiththem;soIshookmyhead,asmuchastosay,‘Ibelieveyou!’

           ‘AndthePunches,’saidWilliam.‘There’scattle!ASuffolkPunch,whenhe’sagoodun,isworthhisweightingold.DidyoueverbreedanySuffolkPunchesyourself,sir?’

           ‘N-no,’Isaid,‘notexactly.’

           ‘Here’sagen’lm’nbehindme,I’llpoundit,’saidWilliam,‘ashasbred‘embywholesale.’

           Thegentlemanspokenofwasagentlemanwithaveryunpromisingsquint,andaprominentchin,whohadatallwhitehatonwithanarrowflatbrim,andwhoseclose-fittingdrabtrousersseemedtobuttonallthewayupoutsidehislegsfromhisbootstohiships.Hischinwascockedoverthecoachman’sshoulder,soneartome,thathisbreathquitetickledthebackofmyhead;andasIlookedathim,heleeredattheleaderswiththeeyewithwhichhedidn’tsquint,inaveryknowingmanner.

           ‘Ain’tyou?’askedWilliam.

           ‘Ain’tIwhat?’saidthegentlemanbehind.

           ‘BredthemSuffolkPunchesbywholesale?’

           ‘Ishouldthinkso,’saidthegentleman.‘Thereain’tnosortoforsethatIain’tbred,andnosortofdorg.Orsesanddorgsissomemen’sfancy.

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