Вітер у вербах

Dulce Domum

           

           Mole’sfacebeamedatthesightofalltheseobjectssodeartohim,andhehurriedRatthroughthedoor,litalampinthehall,andtookoneglanceroundhisoldhome.Hesawthedustlyingthickoneverything,sawthecheerless,desertedlookofthelong-neglectedhouse,anditsnarrow,meagredimensions,itswornandshabbycontentsandcollapsedagainonahall-chair,hisnosetohispaws."ORatty!"hecrieddismally,"whyeverdidIdoit?WhydidIbringyoutothispoor,coldlittleplace,onanightlikethis,whenyoumighthavebeenatRiverBankbythistime,toastingyourtoesbeforeablazingfire,withallyourownnicethingsaboutyou!"

           TheRatpaidnoheedtohisdolefulself-reproaches.Hewasrunninghereandthere,openingdoors,inspectingroomsandcupboards,andlightinglampsandcandlesandstickingthemupeverywhere."Whatacapitallittlehousethisis!"hecalledoutcheerily."Socompact!Sowellplanned!Everythinghereandeverythinginitsplace!We’llmakeajollynightofit.Thefirstthingwewantisagoodfire;I’llseetothatIalwaysknowwheretofindthings.Sothisistheparlour?Splendid!Yourownidea,thoselittlesleeping-bunksinthewall?Capital!Now,I’llfetchthewoodandthecoals,andyougetaduster,Moleyou’llfindoneinthedrawerofthekitchentableandtryandsmartenthingsupabit.

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