Пітер Пен і Венді
The Pirate Ship
’IamtheonlymanwhomBarbecuefeared,’heurged;’andFlinthimselffearedBarbecue.’
’Barbecue,Flint—whathouse?’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.
