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- Чарльз Диккенс
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'
In
a
general
way
that
's
missing
his
tip
,
'
Mr.
E.
W.
B.
Childers
answered
.
'
Nine
oils
,
Merrylegs
,
missing
tips
,
garters
,
banners
,
and
Ponging
,
eh
!
'
ejaculated
Bounderby
,
with
his
laugh
of
laughs
.
'
Queer
sort
of
company
,
too
,
for
a
man
who
has
raised
himself
!
'
'
Lower
yourself
,
then
,
'
retorted
Cupid
.
'
Oh
Lord
!
if
you
've
raised
yourself
so
high
as
all
that
comes
to
,
let
yourself
down
a
bit
.
'
'
This
is
a
very
obtrusive
lad
!
'
said
Mr.
Gradgrind
,
turning
,
and
knitting
his
brows
on
him
.
'
We
'd
have
had
a
young
gentleman
to
meet
you
,
if
we
had
known
you
were
coming
,
'
retorted
Master
Kidderminster
,
nothing
abashed
.
'
It
's
a
pity
you
do
n't
have
a
bespeak
,
being
so
particular
.
You
're
on
the
Tight-Jeff
,
ai
n't
you
?
'
'
What
does
this
unmannerly
boy
mean
,
'
asked
Mr.
Gradgrind
,
eyeing
him
in
a
sort
of
desperation
,
'
by
Tight-Jeff
?
'
'
There
!
Get
out
,
get
out
!
'
said
Mr.
Childers
,
thrusting
his
young
friend
from
the
room
,
rather
in
the
prairie
manner
.
'
Tight-Jeff
or
Slack-Jeff
,
it
do
n't
much
signify
:
it
's
only
tight-rope
and
slack-rope
.
You
were
going
to
give
me
a
message
for
Jupe
?
'
'
Yes
,
I
was
.
'
'
Then
,
'
continued
Mr.
Childers
,
quickly
,
'
my
opinion
is
,
he
will
never
receive
it
.
Do
you
know
much
of
him
?
'
'
I
never
saw
the
man
in
my
life
.
'
