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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Рождественская история
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- Стр. 25/78
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All
these
boys
were
in
great
spirits
,
and
shouted
to
each
other
,
until
the
broad
fields
were
so
full
of
merry
music
,
that
the
crisp
air
laughed
to
hear
it
.
'
These
are
but
shadows
of
the
things
that
have
been
,
'
said
the
Ghost
.
'
They
have
no
consciousness
of
us
.
'
The
jocund
travellers
came
on
;
and
as
they
came
,
Scrooge
knew
and
named
them
every
one
.
Why
was
he
rejoiced
beyond
all
bounds
to
see
them
?
Why
did
his
cold
eye
glisten
,
and
his
heart
leap
up
as
they
went
past
?
Why
was
he
filled
with
gladness
when
he
heard
them
give
each
other
Merry
Christmas
,
as
they
parted
at
cross-roads
and
bye-ways
,
for
their
several
homes
?
What
was
merry
Christmas
to
Scrooge
?
Out
upon
merry
Christmas
!
What
good
had
it
ever
done
to
him
?
'
The
school
is
not
quite
deserted
,
'
said
the
Ghost
.
'
A
solitary
child
,
neglected
by
his
friends
,
is
left
there
still
.
'
Scrooge
said
he
knew
it
.
And
he
sobbed
.
They
left
the
high-road
,
by
a
well-remembered
lane
,
and
soon
approached
a
mansion
of
dull
red
brick
,
with
a
little
weathercock-surmounted
cupola
,
on
the
roof
,
and
a
bell
hanging
in
it
.
It
was
a
large
house
,
but
one
of
broken
fortunes
;
for
the
spacious
offices
were
little
used
,
their
walls
were
damp
and
mossy
,
their
windows
broken
,
and
their
gates
decayed
.
Fowls
clucked
and
strutted
in
the
stables
;
and
the
coach-houses
and
sheds
were
over-run
with
grass
.
Nor
was
it
more
retentive
of
its
ancient
state
,
within
;
for
entering
the
dreary
hall
,
and
glancing
through
the
open
doors
of
many
rooms
,
they
found
them
poorly
furnished
,
cold
,
and
vast
.
There
was
an
earthy
savour
in
the
air
,
a
chilly
bareness
in
the
place
,
which
associated
itself
somehow
with
too
much
getting
up
by
candle-light
,
and
not
too
much
to
eat
.
They
went
,
the
Ghost
and
Scrooge
,
across
the
hall
,
to
a
door
at
the
back
of
the
house
.
It
opened
before
them
,
and
disclosed
a
long
,
bare
,
melancholy
room
,
made
barer
still
by
lines
of
plain
deal
forms
and
desks
.
At
one
of
these
a
lonely
boy
was
reading
near
a
feeble
fire
;
and
Scrooge
sat
down
upon
a
form
,
and
wept
to
see
his
poor
forgotten
self
as
he
used
to
be
.
Not
a
latent
echo
in
the
house
,
not
a
squeak
and
scuffle
from
the
mice
behind
the
panelling
,
not
a
drip
from
the
half-thawed
water-spout
in
the
dull
yard
behind
,
not
a
sigh
among
the
leafless
boughs
of
one
despondent
poplar
,
not
the
idle
swinging
of
an
empty
store-house
door
,
no
,
not
a
clicking
in
the
fire
,
but
fell
upon
the
heart
of
Scrooge
with
a
softening
influence
,
and
gave
a
freer
passage
to
his
tears
.
The
Spirit
touched
him
on
the
arm
,
and
pointed
to
his
younger
self
,
intent
upon
his
reading
.
Suddenly
a
man
,
in
foreign
garments
:
wonderfully
real
and
distinct
to
look
at
:
stood
outside
the
window
,
with
an
axe
stuck
in
his
belt
,
and
leading
by
the
bridle
an
ass
laden
with
wood
.
