Дракула

Mina Murray’s Journal

           Liesallofthem,nothin’butliesofonekindoranother! Mygog,butit’llbeaquarescowdermentattheDayofJudgmentwhentheycometumblin’upintheirdeath-sarks,alljoupedtogetheran’trying’todragtheirtombsteanswiththemtoprovehowgoodtheywas, someofthemtrimmlin’an’dithering,withtheirhandsthatdozzenedan’slipperyfromlyin’intheseathattheycan’tevenkeeptheirgurpo’them." 

           Icouldseefromtheoldfellow’sself-satisfiedairandthewayinwhichhelookedroundfortheapprovalofhiscroniesthathewas"showingoff,"soIputinawordtokeephimgoing. 

           "Oh,Mr.Swales,youcan’tbeserious. Surelythesetombstonesarenotallwrong?" 

           "Yabblins! Theremaybeapoorishfewnotwrong,savin’wheretheymakeoutthepeopletoogood,fortherebefolkthatdothinkabalm-bowlbelikethesea,ifonlyitbetheirown. Thewholethingbeonlylies. Nowlookyouhere.Youcomehereastranger,an’youseethiskirkgarth." 

           Inodded,forIthoughtitbettertoassent,thoughIdidnotquiteunderstandhisdialect. Iknewithadsomethingtodowiththechurch. 

           Hewenton, "Andyouconsatethatallthesesteansbeaboonfolkthatbehapedhere,snodan’snog?"Iassentedagain. "Thenthatbejustwheretheliecomesin. Why,therebescoresoftheselaybedsthatbetoomasoldDun’s‘baccaboxonFridaynight." 

           Henudgedoneofhiscompanions,andtheyalllaughed. "And,mygog!Howcouldtheybeotherwise? Lookatthatone,theaftestabaftthebier-bank,readit!" 

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