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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Рождественская история
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- Стр. 57/78
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'
Seasonable
for
Christmas
time
.
You
're
not
a
skater
,
I
suppose
?
'
'
No
.
No
.
Something
else
to
think
of
.
Good
morning
!
'
Not
another
word
.
That
was
their
meeting
,
their
conversation
,
and
their
parting
.
Scrooge
was
at
first
inclined
to
be
surprised
that
the
Spirit
should
attach
importance
to
conversations
apparently
so
trivial
;
but
feeling
assured
that
they
must
have
some
hidden
purpose
,
he
set
himself
to
consider
what
it
was
likely
to
be
.
They
could
scarcely
be
supposed
to
have
any
bearing
on
the
death
of
Jacob
,
his
old
partner
,
for
that
was
Past
,
and
this
Ghost
's
province
was
the
Future
.
Nor
could
he
think
of
any
one
immediately
connected
with
himself
,
to
whom
he
could
apply
them
.
But
nothing
doubting
that
to
whomsoever
they
applied
they
had
some
latent
moral
for
his
own
improvement
,
he
resolved
to
treasure
up
every
word
he
heard
,
and
everything
he
saw
;
and
especially
to
observe
the
shadow
of
himself
when
it
appeared
.
For
he
had
an
expectation
that
the
conduct
of
his
future
self
would
give
him
the
clue
he
missed
,
and
would
render
the
solution
of
these
riddles
easy
.
He
looked
about
in
that
very
place
for
his
own
image
;
but
another
man
stood
in
his
accustomed
corner
,
and
though
the
clock
pointed
to
his
usual
time
of
day
for
being
there
,
he
saw
no
likeness
of
himself
among
the
multitudes
that
poured
in
through
the
Porch
.
It
gave
him
little
surprise
,
however
;
for
he
had
been
revolving
in
his
mind
a
change
of
life
,
and
thought
and
hoped
he
saw
his
new-born
resolutions
carried
out
in
this
.
Quiet
and
dark
,
beside
him
stood
the
Phantom
,
with
its
outstretched
hand
.
When
he
roused
himself
from
his
thoughtful
quest
,
he
fancied
from
the
turn
of
the
hand
,
and
its
situation
in
reference
to
himself
,
that
the
Unseen
Eyes
were
looking
at
him
keenly
.
It
made
him
shudder
,
and
feel
very
cold
.
They
left
the
busy
scene
,
and
went
into
an
obscure
part
of
the
town
,
where
Scrooge
had
never
penetrated
before
,
although
he
recognised
its
situation
,
and
its
bad
repute
.
The
ways
were
foul
and
narrow
;
the
shops
and
houses
wretched
;
the
people
half-naked
,
drunken
,
slipshod
,
ugly
.
Alleys
and
archways
,
like
so
many
cesspools
,
disgorged
their
offences
of
smell
,
and
dirt
,
and
life
,
upon
the
straggling
streets
;
and
the
whole
quarter
reeked
with
crime
,
with
filth
,
and
misery
.
Far
in
this
den
of
infamous
resort
,
there
was
a
low-browed
,
beetling
shop
,
below
a
pent-house
roof
,
where
iron
,
old
rags
,
bottles
,
bones
,
and
greasy
offal
,
were
bought
.
Upon
the
floor
within
,
were
piled
up
heaps
of
rusty
keys
,
nails
,
chains
,
hinges
,
files
,
scales
,
weights
,
and
refuse
iron
of
all
kinds
.
Secrets
that
few
would
like
to
scrutinise
were
bred
and
hidden
in
mountains
of
unseemly
rags
,
masses
of
corrupted
fat
,
and
sepulchres
of
bones
.
Sitting
in
among
the
wares
he
dealt
in
,
by
a
charcoal
stove
,
made
of
old
bricks
,
was
a
grey-haired
rascal
,
nearly
seventy
years
of
age
;
who
had
screened
himself
from
the
cold
air
without
,
by
a
frousy
curtaining
of
miscellaneous
tatters
,
hung
upon
a
line
;
and
smoked
his
pipe
in
all
the
luxury
of
calm
retirement
.
