Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Showing how Dodson and Fogg were Men of Business, and their Clerks Men of pleasure; and how an affec

           Whenweaddthattheweather-beatensignboardborethehalf-obliteratedsemblanceofamagpieintentlyeyeingacrookedstreakofbrownpaint,whichtheneighbourshadbeentaughtfrominfancytoconsiderasthe‘stump,’wehavesaidallthatneedbesaidoftheexterioroftheedifice.

           OnMr.Pickwick’spresentinghimselfatthebar,anelderlyfemaleemergedfrombehindthescreentherein,andpresentedherselfbeforehim.

           ‘IsMr.Lowtenhere,ma’am?’inquiredMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Yes,heis,Sir,’repliedthelandlady.‘Here,Charley,showthegentlemanintoMr.Lowten.’

           ‘Thegen’l’m’ncan’tgoinjustnow,’saidashamblingpot-boy,witharedhead,‘cos’Mr.Lowten’sa-singin’acomicsong,andhe’llputhimout.He’llbedonedirectly,Sir.’

           Thered-headedpot-boyhadscarcelyfinishedspeaking,whenamostunanimoushammeringoftables,andjinglingofglasses,announcedthatthesonghadthatinstantterminated;andMr.Pickwick,afterdesiringSamtosolacehimselfinthetap,sufferedhimselftobeconductedintothepresenceofMr.Lowten.

           Attheannouncementof‘Agentlemantospeaktoyou,Sir,’apuffy-facedyoungman,whofilledthechairattheheadofthetable,lookedwithsomesurpriseinthedirectionfromwhencethevoiceproceeded;andthesurpriseseemedtobebynomeansdiminished,whenhiseyesrestedonanindividualwhomhehadneverseenbefore.

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