Холодный дом

Jo’s Will

           Jellyby’slambs,beingwhollyunconnectedwithBorrioboola-Gha;heisnotsoftenedbydistanceandunfamiliarity;heisnotagenuineforeign-grownsavage;heistheordinaryhome-madearticle.Dirty,ugly,disagreeabletoallthesenses,inbodyacommoncreatureofthecommonstreets,onlyinsoulaheathen.Homelyfilthbegrimeshim,homelyparasitesdevourhim,homelysoresareinhim,homelyragsareonhim;nativeignorance,thegrowthofEnglishsoilandclimate,sinkshisimmortalnaturelowerthanthebeaststhatperish.Standforth,Jo,inuncompromisingcolours!Fromthesoleofthyfoottothecrownofthyhead,thereisnothinginterestingaboutthee.HeshufflesslowlyintoMr.George’sgalleryandstandshuddledtogetherinabundle,lookingallaboutthefloor.Heseemstoknowthattheyhaveaninclinationtoshrinkfromhim,partlyforwhatheisandpartlyforwhathehascaused.He,too,shrinksfromthem.Heisnotofthesameorderofthings,notofthesameplaceincreation.Heisofnoorderandnoplace,neitherofthebeastsnorofhumanity."Lookhere,Jo!"saysAllan."ThisisMr.George."Josearchesthefloorforsometimelonger,thenlooksupforamoment,andthendownagain."Heisakindfriendtoyou,forheisgoingtogiveyoulodgingroomhere."Jomakesascoopwithonehand,whichissupposedtobeabow.Afteralittlemoreconsiderationandsomebackingandchangingofthefootonwhichherests,hemuttersthatheis"werythankful.""Youarequitesafehere.Allyouhavetodoatpresentistobeobedientandtogetstrong.

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