Холодний дім

Jo’s Will

           Woodcot,hecomefurtogivmesomethinkfurtoeaseme,wothe’sallusa-doin’ondayandnight,andwenhecomea-bendingovermeanda-speakinupsobold,Iseehistearsa-fallin,Mr.Sangsby."Thesoftenedstationerdepositsanotherhalf-crownonthetable.Nothinglessthanarepetitionofthatinfallibleremedywillrelievehisfeelings."WotIwasa-thinkinon,Mr.Sangsby,"proceedsJo,"wos,asyouwosabletowritewerylarge,p’raps?""Yes,Jo,pleaseGod,"returnsthestationer."Uncommonpreciouslarge,p’raps?"saysJowitheagerness."Yes,mypoorboy."Jolaughswithpleasure."WotIwosa-thinkingonthen,Mr.Sangsby,wos,thatwhenIwosmovedonasfuraseverIcouldgoandcouldn’tbemovednofurder,whetheryoumightbesogoodp’rapsastowriteout,werylargesothatanyonecouldseeitanywheres,asthatIwoswerytrulyheartysorrythatIdoneitandthatIneverwentfurtodoit,andthatthoughIdidn’tknownothinkatall,IknowdasMr.Woodcotoncecriedoveritandwosallusgrievedoverit,andthatIhopedashe’dbeabletoforgivemeinhismind.Ifthewritincouldbemadetosayitwerylarge,hemight.""Itshallsayit,Jo.Verylarge."Jolaughsagain."Thankee,Mr.Sangsby.It’swerykindofyou,sir,anditmakesmemorecumfblernorIwasafore."Themeeklittlestationer,withabrokenandunfinishedcough,slipsdownhisfourthhalf-crownhehasneverbeensoclosetoacaserequiringsomanyandisfaintodepart.AndJoandhe,uponthislittleearth,shallmeetnomore.Nomore.

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