Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

A pleasant Day with an unpleasant Termination

           

           ‘Sir,’repliedMr.Weller.

           ‘Havethegoodnesstoreserveyouranecdotestilltheyarecalledfor.’

           ‘Cert’nly,sir.’

           HereMr.Wellerwinkedtheeyewhichwasnotconcealedbythebeer-canhewasraisingtohislips,withsuchexquisitefacetiousness,thatthetwoboyswentintospontaneousconvulsions,andeventhelongmancondescendedtosmile.

           ‘Well,thatcertainlyismostcapitalcoldpunch,’saidMr.Pickwick,lookingearnestlyatthestonebottle;‘andthedayisextremelywarm,andTupman,mydearfriend,aglassofpunch?’

           ‘Withthegreatestdelight,’repliedMr.Tupman;andhavingdrankthatglass,Mr.Pickwicktookanother,justtoseewhethertherewasanyorangepeelinthepunch,becauseorangepeelalwaysdisagreedwithhim;andfindingthattherewasnot,Mr.Pickwicktookanotherglasstothehealthoftheirabsentfriend,andthenfelthimselfimperativelycalledupontoproposeanotherinhonourofthepunch-compounder,unknown.

           ThisconstantsuccessionofglassesproducedconsiderableeffectuponMr.Pickwick;hiscountenancebeamedwiththemostsunnysmiles,laughterplayedaroundhislips,andgood-humouredmerrimenttwinkledinhiseye.Yieldingbydegreestotheinfluenceoftheexcitingliquid,renderedmoresobytheheat,Mr.

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