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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Рождественская история
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- Стр. 39/78
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For
,
the
people
who
were
shovelling
away
on
the
housetops
were
jovial
and
full
of
glee
;
calling
out
to
one
another
from
the
parapets
,
and
now
and
then
exchanging
a
facetious
snowball
--
better-natured
missile
far
than
many
a
wordy
jest
--
laughing
heartily
if
it
went
right
and
not
less
heartily
if
it
went
wrong
.
The
poulterers
'
shops
were
still
half
open
,
and
the
fruiterers
'
were
radiant
in
their
glory
.
There
were
great
,
round
,
round
,
pot-bellied
baskets
of
chestnuts
,
shaped
like
the
waistcoats
of
jolly
old
gentlemen
,
lolling
at
the
doors
,
and
tumbling
out
into
the
street
in
their
apoplectic
opulence
.
There
were
ruddy
,
brown-faced
,
broad-girthed
Spanish
onions
,
shining
in
the
fatness
of
their
growth
like
Spanish
Friars
,
and
winking
from
their
shelves
in
wanton
slyness
at
the
girls
as
they
went
by
,
and
glanced
demurely
at
the
hung-up
mistletoe
.
There
were
pears
and
apples
,
clustered
high
in
blooming
pyramids
;
there
were
bunches
of
grapes
,
made
,
in
the
shopkeepers
'
benevolence
,
to
dangle
from
conspicuous
hooks
,
that
people
's
mouths
might
water
gratis
as
they
passed
;
there
were
piles
of
filberts
,
mossy
and
brown
,
recalling
,
in
their
fragrance
,
ancient
walks
among
the
woods
,
and
pleasant
shufflings
ankle
deep
through
withered
leaves
;
there
were
Norfolk
Biffins
,
squat
and
swarthy
,
setting
off
the
yellow
of
the
oranges
and
lemons
,
and
,
in
the
great
compactness
of
their
juicy
persons
,
urgently
entreating
and
beseeching
to
be
carried
home
in
paper
bags
and
eaten
after
dinner
.
The
very
gold
and
silver
fish
,
set
forth
among
these
choice
fruits
in
a
bowl
,
though
members
of
a
dull
and
stagnant-blooded
race
,
appeared
to
know
that
there
was
something
going
on
;
and
,
to
a
fish
,
went
gasping
round
and
round
their
little
world
in
slow
and
passionless
excitement
.
The
Grocers
'
!
oh
,
the
Grocers
'
!
nearly
closed
,
with
perhaps
two
shutters
down
,
or
one
;
but
through
those
gaps
such
glimpses
!
It
was
not
alone
that
the
scales
descending
on
the
counter
made
a
merry
sound
,
or
that
the
twine
and
roller
parted
company
so
briskly
,
or
that
the
canisters
were
rattled
up
and
down
like
juggling
tricks
,
or
even
that
the
blended
scents
of
tea
and
coffee
were
so
grateful
to
the
nose
,
or
even
that
the
raisins
were
so
plentiful
and
rare
,
the
almonds
so
extremely
white
,
the
sticks
of
cinnamon
so
long
and
straight
,
the
other
spices
so
delicious
,
the
candied
fruits
so
caked
and
spotted
with
molten
sugar
as
to
make
the
coldest
lookers-on
feel
faint
and
subsequently
bilious
.
Nor
was
it
that
the
figs
were
moist
and
pulpy
,
or
that
the
French
plums
blushed
in
modest
tartness
from
their
highly-decorated
boxes
,
or
that
everything
was
good
to
eat
and
in
its
Christmas
dress
;
but
the
customers
were
all
so
hurried
and
so
eager
in
the
hopeful
promise
of
the
day
,
that
they
tumbled
up
against
each
other
at
the
door
,
crashing
their
wicker
baskets
wildly
,
and
left
their
purchases
upon
the
counter
,
and
came
running
back
to
fetch
them
,
and
committed
hundreds
of
the
like
mistakes
,
in
the
best
humour
possible
;
while
the
Grocer
and
his
people
were
so
frank
and
fresh
that
the
polished
hearts
with
which
they
fastened
their
aprons
behind
might
have
been
their
own
,
worn
outside
for
general
inspection
,
and
for
Christmas
daws
to
peck
at
if
they
chose
.
But
soon
the
steeples
called
good
people
all
,
to
church
and
chapel
,
and
away
they
came
,
flocking
through
the
streets
in
their
best
clothes
,
and
with
their
gayest
faces
.
And
at
the
same
time
there
emerged
from
scores
of
bye-streets
,
lanes
,
and
nameless
turnings
,
innumerable
people
,
carrying
their
dinners
to
the
baker
'
shops
.
The
sight
of
these
poor
revellers
appeared
to
interest
the
Spirit
very
much
,
for
he
stood
with
Scrooge
beside
him
in
a
baker
's
doorway
,
and
taking
off
the
covers
as
their
bearers
passed
,
sprinkled
incense
on
their
dinners
from
his
torch
.
And
it
was
a
very
uncommon
kind
of
torch
,
for
once
or
twice
when
there
were
angry
words
between
some
dinner-carriers
who
had
jostled
each
other
,
he
shed
a
few
drops
of
water
on
them
from
it
,
and
their
good
humour
was
restored
directly
.
For
they
said
,
it
was
a
shame
to
quarrel
upon
Christmas
Day
.
And
so
it
was
.
God
love
it
,
so
it
was
.
In
time
the
bells
ceased
,
and
the
bakers
were
shut
up
;
and
yet
there
was
a
genial
shadowing
forth
of
all
these
dinners
and
the
progress
of
their
cooking
,
in
the
thawed
blotch
of
wet
above
each
baker
's
oven
;
where
the
pavement
smoked
as
if
its
stones
were
cooking
too
.
'
Is
there
a
peculiar
flavour
in
what
you
sprinkle
from
your
torch
?
'
asked
Scrooge
.
'
There
is
.
My
own
.
'
'
Would
it
apply
to
any
kind
of
dinner
on
this
day
?
'
asked
Scrooge
.
