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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Холодный дом
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But
if
he
could
get
over
this
money
trouble
of
his
,
I
believe
he
would
be
off
.
"
Mr
.
Bagnet
asks
why
.
"
Well
,
"
returns
his
wife
,
considering
,
"
George
seems
to
me
to
be
getting
not
a
little
impatient
and
restless
.
I
don
’
t
say
but
what
he
’
s
as
free
as
ever
.
Of
course
he
must
be
free
or
he
wouldn
’
t
be
George
,
but
he
smarts
and
seems
put
out
.
"
"
He
’
s
extra
-
drilled
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
By
a
lawyer
.
Who
would
put
the
devil
out
.
"
"
There
’
s
something
in
that
,
"
his
wife
assents
;
"
but
so
it
is
,
Lignum
.
"
Further
conversation
is
prevented
,
for
the
time
,
by
the
necessity
under
which
Mr
.
Bagnet
finds
himself
of
directing
the
whole
force
of
his
mind
to
the
dinner
,
which
is
a
little
endangered
by
the
dry
humour
of
the
fowls
in
not
yielding
any
gravy
,
and
also
by
the
made
gravy
acquiring
no
flavour
and
turning
out
of
a
flaxen
complexion
.
With
a
similar
perverseness
,
the
potatoes
crumble
off
forks
in
the
process
of
peeling
,
upheaving
from
their
centres
in
every
direction
,
as
if
they
were
subject
to
earthquakes
.
The
legs
of
the
fowls
,
too
,
are
longer
than
could
be
desired
,
and
extremely
scaly
.
Overcoming
these
disadvantages
to
the
best
of
his
ability
,
Mr
.
Bagnet
at
last
dishes
and
they
sit
down
at
table
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
occupying
the
guest
’
s
place
at
his
right
hand
.
It
is
well
for
the
old
girl
that
she
has
but
one
birthday
in
a
year
,
for
two
such
indulgences
in
poultry
might
be
injurious
.
Every
kind
of
finer
tendon
and
ligament
that
is
in
the
nature
of
poultry
to
possess
is
developed
in
these
specimens
in
the
singular
form
of
guitar
-
strings
.
Their
limbs
appear
to
have
struck
roots
into
their
breasts
and
bodies
,
as
aged
trees
strike
roots
into
the
earth
.
Their
legs
are
so
hard
as
to
encourage
the
idea
that
they
must
have
devoted
the
greater
part
of
their
long
and
arduous
lives
to
pedestrian
exercises
and
the
walking
of
matches
.
But
Mr
.
Bagnet
,
unconscious
of
these
little
defects
,
sets
his
heart
on
Mrs
.
Bagnet
eating
a
most
severe
quantity
of
the
delicacies
before
her
;
and
as
that
good
old
girl
would
not
cause
him
a
moment
’
s
disappointment
on
any
day
,
least
of
all
on
such
a
day
,
for
any
consideration
,
she
imperils
her
digestion
fearfully
.
How
young
Woolwich
cleans
the
drum
-
sticks
without
being
of
ostrich
descent
,
his
anxious
mother
is
at
a
loss
to
understand
.
The
old
girl
has
another
trial
to
undergo
after
the
conclusion
of
the
repast
in
sitting
in
state
to
see
the
room
cleared
,
the
hearth
swept
,
and
the
dinner
-
service
washed
up
and
polished
in
the
backyard
.
The
great
delight
and
energy
with
which
the
two
young
ladies
apply
themselves
to
these
duties
,
turning
up
their
skirts
in
imitation
of
their
mother
and
skating
in
and
out
on
little
scaffolds
of
pattens
,
inspire
the
highest
hopes
for
the
future
,
but
some
anxiety
for
the
present
.
The
same
causes
lead
to
confusion
of
tongues
,
a
clattering
of
crockery
,
a
rattling
of
tin
mugs
,
a
whisking
of
brooms
,
and
an
expenditure
of
water
,
all
in
excess
,
while
the
saturation
of
the
young
ladies
themselves
is
almost
too
moving
a
spectacle
for
Mrs
.
Bagnet
to
look
upon
with
the
calmness
proper
to
her
position
.
At
last
the
various
cleansing
processes
are
triumphantly
completed
;
Quebec
and
Malta
appear
in
fresh
attire
,
smiling
and
dry
;
pipes
,
tobacco
,
and
something
to
drink
are
placed
upon
the
table
;
and
the
old
girl
enjoys
the
first
peace
of
mind
she
ever
knows
on
the
day
of
this
delightful
entertainment
.
When
Mr
.
Bagnet
takes
his
usual
seat
,
the
hands
of
the
clock
are
very
near
to
half
-
past
four
;
as
they
mark
it
accurately
,
Mr
.
Bagnet
announces
,
"
George
!
Military
time
.
"
It
is
George
,
and
he
has
hearty
congratulations
for
the
old
girl
(
whom
he
kisses
on
the
great
occasion
)
,
and
for
the
children
,
and
for
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
Happy
returns
to
all
!
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
But
,
George
,
old
man
!
"
cries
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
looking
at
him
curiously
.
"
What
’
s
come
to
you
?
"
"
Come
to
me
?
"
"
Ah
!
You
are
so
white
,
George
—
for
you
—
and
look
so
shocked
.
Now
don
’
t
he
,
Lignum
?
"
"
George
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
,
"
tell
the
old
girl
.
What
’
s
the
matter
.
"
"
I
didn
’
t
know
I
looked
white
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
passing
his
hand
over
his
brow
,
"
and
I
didn
’
t
know
I
looked
shocked
,
and
I
’
m
sorry
I
do
.
But
the
truth
is
,
that
boy
who
was
taken
in
at
my
place
died
yesterday
afternoon
,
and
it
has
rather
knocked
me
over
.
"
"
Poor
creetur
!
"
says
Mrs
.
Bagnet
with
a
mother
’
s
pity
.
"
Is
he
gone
?
Dear
,
dear
!
"
"
I
didn
’
t
mean
to
say
anything
about
it
,
for
it
’
s
not
birthday
talk
,
but
you
have
got
it
out
of
me
,
you
see
,
before
I
sit
down
.
I
should
have
roused
up
in
a
minute
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
making
himself
speak
more
gaily
,
"
but
you
’
re
so
quick
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
.
"
"
You
’
re
right
.
The
old
girl
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
Is
as
quick
.
As
powder
.
"
"
And
what
’
s
more
,
she
’
s
the
subject
of
the
day
,
and
we
’
ll
stick
to
her
,
"
cries
Mr
.
George
.
"
See
here
,
I
have
brought
a
little
brooch
along
with
me
.
It
’
s
a
poor
thing
,
you
know
,
but
it
’
s
a
keepsake
.
That
’
s
all
the
good
it
is
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
.
"
Mr
.
George
produces
his
present
,
which
is
greeted
with
admiring
leapings
and
clappings
by
the
young
family
,
and
with
a
species
of
reverential
admiration
by
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
Old
girl
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
Tell
him
my
opinion
of
it
.
"
"
Why
,
it
’
s
a
wonder
,
George
!
"
Mrs
.
Bagnet
exclaims
.
"
It
’
s
the
beautifullest
thing
that
ever
was
seen
!
"
"
Good
!
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
My
opinion
.
"
"
It
’
s
so
pretty
,
George
,
"
cries
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
turning
it
on
all
sides
and
holding
it
out
at
arm
’
s
length
,
"
that
it
seems
too
choice
for
me
.
"
"
Bad
!
"
says
Mr
.
Bagnet
.
"
Not
my
opinion
.
"
"
But
whatever
it
is
,
a
hundred
thousand
thanks
,
old
fellow
,
"
says
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
her
eyes
sparkling
with
pleasure
and
her
hand
stretched
out
to
him
;
"
and
though
I
have
been
a
crossgrained
soldier
’
s
wife
to
you
sometimes
,
George
,
we
are
as
strong
friends
,
I
am
sure
,
in
reality
,
as
ever
can
be
.
Now
you
shall
fasten
it
on
yourself
,
for
good
luck
,
if
you
will
,
George
.
"
The
children
close
up
to
see
it
done
,
and
Mr
.
Bagnet
looks
over
young
Woolwich
’
s
head
to
see
it
done
with
an
interest
so
maturely
wooden
,
yet
pleasantly
childish
,
that
Mrs
.
Bagnet
cannot
help
laughing
in
her
airy
way
and
saying
,
"
Oh
,
Lignum
,
Lignum
,
what
a
precious
old
chap
you
are
!
"
But
the
trooper
fails
to
fasten
the
brooch
.
His
hand
shakes
,
he
is
nervous
,
and
it
falls
off
.
"
Would
any
one
believe
this
?
"
says
he
,
catching
it
as
it
drops
and
looking
round
.
"
I
am
so
out
of
sorts
that
I
bungle
at
an
easy
job
like
this
!
"
Mrs
.
Bagnet
concludes
that
for
such
a
case
there
is
no
remedy
like
a
pipe
,
and
fastening
the
brooch
herself
in
a
twinkling
,
causes
the
trooper
to
be
inducted
into
his
usual
snug
place
and
the
pipes
to
be
got
into
action
.
"
If
that
don
’
t
bring
you
round
,
George
,
"
says
she
,
"
just
throw
your
eye
across
here
at
your
present
now
and
then
,
and
the
two
together
MUST
do
it
.
"
"
You
ought
to
do
it
of
yourself
,
"
George
answers
;
"
I
know
that
very
well
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
.
I
’
ll
tell
you
how
,
one
way
and
another
,
the
blues
have
got
to
be
too
many
for
me
.
Here
was
this
poor
lad
.
’
Twas
dull
work
to
see
him
dying
as
he
did
,
and
not
be
able
to
help
him
.
"
"
What
do
you
mean
,
George
?
You
did
help
him
.
You
took
him
under
your
roof
.
"
"
I
helped
him
so
far
,
but
that
’
s
little
.
I
mean
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
there
he
was
,
dying
without
ever
having
been
taught
much
more
than
to
know
his
right
hand
from
his
left
.
And
he
was
too
far
gone
to
be
helped
out
of
that
.
"
"
Ah
,
poor
creetur
!
"
says
Mrs
.
Bagnet
.
"
Then
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
not
yet
lighting
his
pipe
,
and
passing
his
heavy
hand
over
his
hair
,
"
that
brought
up
Gridley
in
a
man
’
s
mind
.
His
was
a
bad
case
too
,
in
a
different
way
.
Then
the
two
got
mixed
up
in
a
man
’
s
mind
with
a
flinty
old
rascal
who
had
to
do
with
both
.
And
to
think
of
that
rusty
carbine
,
stock
and
barrel
,
standing
up
on
end
in
his
corner
,
hard
,
indifferent
,
taking
everything
so
evenly
—
it
made
flesh
and
blood
tingle
,
I
do
assure
you
.
"
"
My
advice
to
you
,
"
returns
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
"
is
to
light
your
pipe
and
tingle
that
way
.
It
’
s
wholesomer
and
comfortabler
,
and
better
for
the
health
altogether
.
"
"
You
’
re
right
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
"
and
I
’
ll
do
it
.
"
So
he
does
it
,
though
still
with
an
indignant
gravity
that
impresses
the
young
Bagnets
,
and
even
causes
Mr
.
Bagnet
to
defer
the
ceremony
of
drinking
Mrs
.
Bagnet
’
s
health
,
always
given
by
himself
on
these
occasions
in
a
speech
of
exemplary
terseness
.
But
the
young
ladies
having
composed
what
Mr
.
Bagnet
is
in
the
habit
of
calling
"
the
mixtur
,
"
and
George
’
s
pipe
being
now
in
a
glow
,
Mr
.
Bagnet
considers
it
his
duty
to
proceed
to
the
toast
of
the
evening
.
He
addresses
the
assembled
company
in
the
following
terms
.
"
George
.
Woolwich
.
Quebec
.
Malta
.
This
is
her
birthday
.
Take
a
day
’
s
march
.
And
you
won
’
t
find
such
another
.
Here
’
s
towards
her
!
"
The
toast
having
been
drunk
with
enthusiasm
,
Mrs
.
Bagnet
returns
thanks
in
a
neat
address
of
corresponding
brevity
.
This
model
composition
is
limited
to
the
three
words
"
And
wishing
yours
!
"
which
the
old
girl
follows
up
with
a
nod
at
everybody
in
succession
and
a
well
-
regulated
swig
of
the
mixture
.
This
she
again
follows
up
,
on
the
present
occasion
,
by
the
wholly
unexpected
exclamation
,
"
Here
’
s
a
man
!
"
Here
IS
a
man
,
much
to
the
astonishment
of
the
little
company
,
looking
in
at
the
parlour
-
door
.
He
is
a
sharp
-
eyed
man
—
a
quick
keen
man
—
and
he
takes
in
everybody
’
s
look
at
him
,
all
at
once
,
individually
and
collectively
,
in
a
manner
that
stamps
him
a
remarkable
man
.
"
George
,
"
says
the
man
,
nodding
,
"
how
do
you
find
yourself
?
"
"
Why
,
it
’
s
Bucket
!
"
cries
Mr
.
George
.
"
Yes
,
"
says
the
man
,
coming
in
and
closing
the
door
.
"
I
was
going
down
the
street
here
when
I
happened
to
stop
and
look
in
at
the
musical
instruments
in
the
shop
-
window
—
a
friend
of
mine
is
in
want
of
a
second
-
hand
wiolinceller
of
a
good
tone
—
and
I
saw
a
party
enjoying
themselves
,
and
I
thought
it
was
you
in
the
corner
;
I
thought
I
couldn
’
t
be
mistaken
.
How
goes
the
world
with
you
,
George
,
at
the
present
moment
?
Pretty
smooth
?
And
with
you
,
ma
’
am
?
And
with
you
,
governor
?
And
Lord
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
,
opening
his
arms
,
"
here
’
s
children
too
!
You
may
do
anything
with
me
if
you
only
show
me
children
.
Give
us
a
kiss
,
my
pets
.
No
occasion
to
inquire
who
YOUR
father
and
mother
is
.
Never
saw
such
a
likeness
in
my
life
!
"
Mr
.
Bucket
,
not
unwelcome
,
has
sat
himself
down
next
to
Mr
.
George
and
taken
Quebec
and
Malta
on
his
knees
.
"
You
pretty
dears
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
,
"
give
us
another
kiss
;
it
’
s
the
only
thing
I
’
m
greedy
in
.
Lord
bless
you
,
how
healthy
you
look
!
And
what
may
be
the
ages
of
these
two
,
ma
’
am
?
I
should
put
’
em
down
at
the
figures
of
about
eight
and
ten
.
"
"
You
’
re
very
near
,
sir
,
"
says
Mrs
.
Bagnet
.
"
I
generally
am
near
,
"
returns
Mr
.
Bucket
,
"
being
so
fond
of
children
.
A
friend
of
mine
has
had
nineteen
of
’
em
,
ma
’
am
,
all
by
one
mother
,
and
she
’
s
still
as
fresh
and
rosy
as
the
morning
.
Not
so
much
so
as
yourself
,
but
,
upon
my
soul
,
she
comes
near
you
!
And
what
do
you
call
these
,
my
darling
?
"
pursues
Mr
.
Bucket
,
pinching
Malta
’
s
cheeks
.
"
These
are
peaches
,
these
are
.
Bless
your
heart
!
And
what
do
you
think
about
father
?
Do
you
think
father
could
recommend
a
second
-
hand
wiolinceller
of
a
good
tone
for
Mr
.
Bucket
’
s
friend
,
my
dear
?
My
name
’
s
Bucket
.
Ain
’
t
that
a
funny
name
?
"
These
blandishments
have
entirely
won
the
family
heart
.
Mrs
.
Bagnet
forgets
the
day
to
the
extent
of
filling
a
pipe
and
a
glass
for
Mr
.
Bucket
and
waiting
upon
him
hospitably
.
She
would
be
glad
to
receive
so
pleasant
a
character
under
any
circumstances
,
but
she
tells
him
that
as
a
friend
of
George
’
s
she
is
particularly
glad
to
see
him
this
evening
,
for
George
has
not
been
in
his
usual
spirits
.
"
Not
in
his
usual
spirits
?
"
exclaims
Mr
.
Bucket
.
"
Why
,
I
never
heard
of
such
a
thing
!
What
’
s
the
matter
,
George
?
You
don
’
t
intend
to
tell
me
you
’
ve
been
out
of
spirits
.
What
should
you
be
out
of
spirits
for
?
You
haven
’
t
got
anything
on
your
mind
,
you
know
.
"
"
Nothing
particular
,
"
returns
the
trooper
.
"
I
should
think
not
,
"
rejoins
Mr
.
Bucket
.
"
What
could
you
have
on
your
mind
,
you
know
!
And
have
these
pets
got
anything
on
THEIR
minds
,
eh
?
Not
they
,
but
they
’
ll
be
upon
the
minds
of
some
of
the
young
fellows
,
some
of
these
days
,
and
make
’
em
precious
low
-
spirited
.
I
ain
’
t
much
of
a
prophet
,
but
I
can
tell
you
that
,
ma
’
am
.
"
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
quite
charmed
,
hopes
Mr
.
Bucket
has
a
family
of
his
own
.
"
There
,
ma
’
am
!
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
.
"
Would
you
believe
it
?
No
,
I
haven
’
t
.
My
wife
and
a
lodger
constitute
my
family
.
Mrs
.
Bucket
is
as
fond
of
children
as
myself
and
as
wishful
to
have
’
em
,
but
no
.
So
it
is
.
Worldly
goods
are
divided
unequally
,
and
man
must
not
repine
.
What
a
very
nice
backyard
,
ma
’
am
!
Any
way
out
of
that
yard
,
now
?
"
There
is
no
way
out
of
that
yard
.
"
Ain
’
t
there
really
?
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
.
"
I
should
have
thought
there
might
have
been
.
Well
,
I
don
’
t
know
as
I
ever
saw
a
backyard
that
took
my
fancy
more
.
Would
you
allow
me
to
look
at
it
?
Thank
you
.
No
,
I
see
there
’
s
no
way
out
.
But
what
a
very
good
-
proportioned
yard
it
is
!
"
Having
cast
his
sharp
eye
all
about
it
,
Mr
.
Bucket
returns
to
his
chair
next
his
friend
Mr
.
George
and
pats
Mr
.
George
affectionately
on
the
shoulder
.
"
How
are
your
spirits
now
,
George
?
"
"
All
right
now
,
"
returns
the
trooper
.
"
That
’
s
your
sort
!
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
.
"
Why
should
you
ever
have
been
otherwise
?
A
man
of
your
fine
figure
and
constitution
has
no
right
to
be
out
of
spirits
.
That
ain
’
t
a
chest
to
be
out
of
spirits
,
is
it
,
ma
’
am
?
And
you
haven
’
t
got
anything
on
your
mind
,
you
know
,
George
;
what
could
you
have
on
your
mind
!
"
Somewhat
harping
on
this
phrase
,
considering
the
extent
and
variety
of
his
conversational
powers
,
Mr
.
Bucket
twice
or
thrice
repeats
it
to
the
pipe
he
lights
,
and
with
a
listening
face
that
is
particularly
his
own
.
But
the
sun
of
his
sociality
soon
recovers
from
this
brief
eclipse
and
shines
again
.
"
And
this
is
brother
,
is
it
,
my
dears
?
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
,
referring
to
Quebec
and
Malta
for
information
on
the
subject
of
young
Woolwich
.
"
And
a
nice
brother
he
is
—
half
-
brother
I
mean
to
say
.
For
he
’
s
too
old
to
be
your
boy
,
ma
’
am
.
"
"
I
can
certify
at
all
events
that
he
is
not
anybody
else
’
s
,
"
returns
Mrs
.
Bagnet
,
laughing
.
"
Well
,
you
do
surprise
me
!
Yet
he
’
s
like
you
,
there
’
s
no
denying
.
Lord
,
he
’
s
wonderfully
like
you
!
But
about
what
you
may
call
the
brow
,
you
know
,
THERE
his
father
comes
out
!
"
Mr
.
Bucket
compares
the
faces
with
one
eye
shut
up
,
while
Mr
.
Bagnet
smokes
in
stolid
satisfaction
.
This
is
an
opportunity
for
Mrs
.
Bagnet
to
inform
him
that
the
boy
is
George
’
s
godson
.
"
George
’
s
godson
,
is
he
?
"
rejoins
Mr
.
Bucket
with
extreme
cordiality
.
"
I
must
shake
hands
over
again
with
George
’
s
godson
.
Godfather
and
godson
do
credit
to
one
another
.
And
what
do
you
intend
to
make
of
him
,
ma
’
am
?
Does
he
show
any
turn
for
any
musical
instrument
?
"
Mr
.
Bagnet
suddenly
interposes
,
"
Plays
the
fife
.
Beautiful
.
"
"
Would
you
believe
it
,
governor
,
"
says
Mr
.
Bucket
,
struck
by
the
coincidence
,
"
that
when
I
was
a
boy
I
played
the
fife
myself
?
Not
in
a
scientific
way
,
as
I
expect
he
does
,
but
by
ear
.
Lord
bless
you
!
’
British
Grenadiers
’
—
there
’
s
a
tune
to
warm
an
Englishman
up
!
COULD
you
give
us
’
British
Grenadiers
,
’
my
fine
fellow
?
"
Nothing
could
be
more
acceptable
to
the
little
circle
than
this
call
upon
young
Woolwich
,
who
immediately
fetches
his
fife
and
performs
the
stirring
melody
,
during
which
performance
Mr
.
Bucket
,
much
enlivened
,
beats
time
and
never
fails
to
come
in
sharp
with
the
burden
,
"
British
Gra
-
a
-
anadeers
!
"
In
short
,
he
shows
so
much
musical
taste
that
Mr
.
Bagnet
actually
takes
his
pipe
from
his
lips
to
express
his
conviction
that
he
is
a
singer
.
Mr
.
Bucket
receives
the
harmonious
impeachment
so
modestly
,
confessing
how
that
he
did
once
chaunt
a
little
,
for
the
expression
of
the
feelings
of
his
own
bosom
,
and
with
no
presumptuous
idea
of
entertaining
his
friends
,
that
he
is
asked
to
sing
.
Not
to
be
behindhand
in
the
sociality
of
the
evening
,
he
complies
and
gives
them
"
Believe
Me
,
if
All
Those
Endearing
Young
Charms
.
"
This
ballad
,
he
informs
Mrs
.
