Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

In which Mr. Pickwick encounters an old Acquaintance — To which fortunate Circumstance the Reader is

           

           ‘IAMratherwet,’saidBob,givinghimselfashakeandcastingalittlehydraulicshoweraround,likeaNewfoundlanddogjustemergedfromthewater.

           ‘Ithinkit’squiteimpossibletogoonto-night,’interposedBen.

           ‘Outofthequestion,sir,’remarkedSamWeller,comingtoassistintheconference;‘it’sacrueltytoanimals,sir,toask’emtodoit.There’sbedshere,sir,’saidSam,addressinghismaster,‘everythingcleanandcomfortable.Werygoodlittledinner,sir,theycangetreadyinhalfanhourpairoffowls,sir,andawealcutlet;Frenchbeans,‘taturs,tart,andtidiness.You’dbetterstopvereyouare,sir,ifImightrecommend.Takeadwice,sir,asthedoctorsaid.’

           ThehostoftheSaracen’sHeadopportunelyappearedatthismoment,toconfirmMr.Weller’sstatementrelativetotheaccommodationsoftheestablishment,andtobackhisentreatieswithavarietyofdismalconjecturesregardingthestateoftheroads,thedoubtoffreshhorsesbeingtobehadatthenextstage,thedeadcertaintyofitsrainingallnight,theequallymortalcertaintyofitsclearingupinthemorning,andothertopicsofinducementfamiliartoinnkeepers.

           ‘Well,’saidMr.Pickwick;‘butImustsendalettertoLondonbysomeconveyance,sothatitmaybedeliveredtheveryfirstthinginthemorning,orImustgoforwardsatallhazards.’

           Thelandlordsmiledhisdelight.

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