Девід Копперфільд

Wickfield and Heep

           

           Ifoundeverythinginasatisfactorystateatthecottage;andwasenabledtogratifymyauntexceedinglybyreportingthatthetenantinheritedherfeud,andwagedincessantwaragainstdonkeys.HavingsettledthelittlebusinessIhadtotransactthere,andsleptthereonenight,IwalkedontoCanterburyearlyinthemorning.Itwasnowwinteragain;andthefresh,coldwindyday,andthesweepingdownland,brightenedupmyhopesalittle.

           ComingintoCanterbury,Iloiteredthroughtheoldstreetswithasoberpleasurethatcalmedmyspirits,andeasedmyheart.Thereweretheoldsigns,theoldnamesovertheshops,theoldpeopleservinginthem.Itappearedsolong,sinceIhadbeenaschoolboythere,thatIwonderedtheplacewassolittlechanged,untilIreflectedhowlittleIwaschangedmyself.Strangetosay,thatquietinfluencewhichwasinseparableinmymindfromAgnes,seemedtopervadeeventhecitywhereshedwelt.Thevenerablecathedraltowers,andtheoldjackdawsandrookswhoseairyvoicesmadethemmoreretiredthanperfectsilencewouldhavedone;thebatteredgateways,onestuckfullwithstatues,longthrowndown,andcrumbledaway,likethereverentialpilgrimswhohadgazeduponthem;thestillnooks,wheretheiviedgrowthofcenturiescreptovergabledendsandruinedwalls;theancienthouses,thepastorallandscapeoffield,orchard,andgarden;everywhereoneverything-Ifeltthesameserenerair,thesamecalm,thoughtful,softeningspirit.

           ArrivedatMr.

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 909 з 1418