Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

An old-fashioned Card-party — The Clergyman’s verses — The Story of the Convict’s Return

           Ontheoppositesidesatabald-headedoldgentleman,withagood-humoured,benevolentfacetheclergymanofDingleyDell;andnexthimsathiswife,astout,bloomingoldlady,wholookedasifshewerewellskilled,notonlyintheartandmysteryofmanufacturinghome-madecordialsgreatlytootherpeople’ssatisfaction,butoftastingthemoccasionallyverymuchtoherown.Alittlehard-headed,Ripstonepippin-facedman,wasconversingwithafatoldgentlemaninonecorner;andtwoorthreemoreoldgentlemen,andtwoorthreemoreoldladies,satboltuprightandmotionlessontheirchairs,staringveryhardatMr.Pickwickandhisfellow-voyagers.

           ‘Mr.Pickwick,mother,’saidMr.Wardle,attheverytopofhisvoice.

           ‘Ah!’saidtheoldlady,shakingherhead;‘Ican’thearyou.’

           ‘Mr.Pickwick,grandma!’screamedboththeyoungladiestogether.

           ‘Ah!’exclaimedtheoldlady.‘Well,itdon’tmuchmatter.Hedon’tcareforanold‘oomanlikeme,Idaresay.’

           ‘Iassureyou,ma’am,’saidMr.Pickwick,graspingtheoldlady’shand,andspeakingsoloudthattheexertionimpartedacrimsonhuetohisbenevolentcountenance—‘Iassureyou,ma’am,thatnothingdelightsmemorethantoseealadyofyourtimeoflifeheadingsofineafamily,andlookingsoyoungandwell.’

           ‘Ah!’saidtheoldlady,afterashortpause:‘it’sallveryfine,Idaresay;butIcan’thearhim.

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