Пітер Пен і Венді

The Pirate Ship

           

           ’IamtheonlymanwhomBarbecuefeared,’heurged;’andFlinthimselffearedBarbecue.’

           ’Barbecue,Flintwhathouse?’camethecuttingretort.

           Mostdisquietingreflectionofall,wasitnotbadformtothinkaboutgoodform?

           Hisvitalsweretorturedbythisproblem.Itwasaclawwithinhimsharperthantheironone;andasittorehim,theperspirationdrippeddownhistallowcountenanceandstreakedhisdoublet.Ofttimeshedrewhissleeveacrosshisface,buttherewasnodammingthattrickle.

           Ah,envynotHook.

           Therecametohimapresentimentofhisearlydissolution.ItwasasifPeter’sterribleoathhadboardedtheship.Hookfeltagloomydesiretomakehisdyingspeech,lestpresentlythereshouldbenotimeforit.

           ’BetterforHook,’hecried,’ifhehadhadlessambition.’Itwasinhisdarkesthoursonlythathereferredtohimselfinthethirdperson.

           ’Nolittlechildrenloveme.’

           Strangethatheshouldthinkofthis,whichhadnevertroubledhimbefore;perhapsthesewingmachinebroughtittohismind.Forlonghemutteredtohimself,staringatSmee,whowashemmingplacidly,undertheconvictionthatallchildrenfearedhim.

           Fearedhim!FearedSmee!Therewasnotachildonboardthebrigthatnightwhodidnotalreadylovehim.Hehadsaidhorridthingstothemandhitthemwiththepalmofhishand,becausehecouldnothitwithhisfist;buttheyhadonlyclungtohimthemore.Michaelhadtriedonhisspectacles.

           TotellpoorSmeethattheythoughthimlovable!Hookitchedtodoit,butitseemedtoobrutal.

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Roboto Lora
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