Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

A good-humoured Christmas Chapter, containing an Account of a Wedding, and some other Sports beside:

           PickwickandhisfriendsbytheMuggletonTelegraph,ontheirwaytoDingleyDell;andatthreeo’clockthatafternoontheyallstoodhighanddry,safeandsound,haleandhearty,uponthestepsoftheBlueLion,havingtakenontheroadquiteenoughofaleandbrandy,toenablethemtobiddefiancetothefrostthatwasbindinguptheearthinitsironfetters,andweavingitsbeautifulnetworkuponthetreesandhedges.Mr.Pickwickwasbusilyengagedincountingthebarrelsofoystersandsuperintendingthedisintermentofthecod-fish,whenhefelthimselfgentlypulledbytheskirtsofthecoat.Lookinground,hediscoveredthattheindividualwhoresortedtothismodeofcatchinghisattentionwasnootherthanMr.Wardle’sfavouritepage,betterknowntothereadersofthisunvarnishedhistory,bythedistinguishingappellationofthefatboy.

           ‘Aha!’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Aha!’saidthefatboy.

           Ashesaidit,heglancedfromthecod-fishtotheoyster-barrels,andchuckledjoyously.Hewasfatterthanever.

           ‘Well,youlookrosyenough,myyoungfriend,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘I’vebeenasleep,rightinfrontofthetaproomfire,’repliedthefatboy,whohadheatedhimselftothecolourofanewchimney-pot,inthecourseofanhour’snap.‘Mastersentmeoverwiththeshay-cart,tocarryyourluggageuptothehouse.He’dha’sentsomesaddle-horses,buthethoughtyou’dratherwalk,beingacoldday.

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