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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 117/420
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'
Drat
that
beadle
!
'
said
Mrs.
Mann
,
hearing
the
well-known
shaking
at
the
garden-gate
.
'
If
it
is
n't
him
at
this
time
in
the
morning
!
Lauk
,
Mr.
Bumble
,
only
think
of
its
being
you
!
Well
,
dear
me
,
it
IS
a
pleasure
,
this
is
!
Come
into
the
parlour
,
sir
,
please
.
'
The
first
sentence
was
addressed
to
Susan
;
and
the
exclamations
of
delight
were
uttered
to
Mr.
Bumble
:
as
the
good
lady
unlocked
the
garden-gate
:
and
showed
him
,
with
great
attention
and
respect
,
into
the
house
.
'
Mrs.
Mann
,
'
said
Mr.
Bumble
;
not
sitting
upon
,
or
dropping
himself
into
a
seat
,
as
any
common
jackanapes
would
:
but
letting
himself
gradually
and
slowly
down
into
a
chair
;
'
Mrs.
Mann
,
ma'am
,
good
morning
.
'
'
Well
,
and
good
morning
to
YOU
,
sir
,
'
replied
Mrs.
Mann
,
with
many
smiles
;
'
and
hoping
you
find
yourself
well
,
sir
!
'
'
So-so
,
Mrs.
Mann
,
'
replied
the
beadle
.
'
A
porochial
life
is
not
a
bed
of
roses
,
Mrs.
Mann
.
'
'
Ah
,
that
it
is
n't
indeed
,
Mr.
Bumble
,
'
rejoined
the
lady
.
And
all
the
infant
paupers
might
have
chorussed
the
rejoinder
with
great
propriety
,
if
they
had
heard
it
.
'
A
porochial
life
,
ma'am
,
'
continued
Mr.
Bumble
,
striking
the
table
with
his
cane
,
'
is
a
life
of
worrit
,
and
vexation
,
and
hardihood
;
but
all
public
characters
,
as
I
may
say
,
must
suffer
prosecution
.
'
Mrs.
Mann
,
not
very
well
knowing
what
the
beadle
meant
,
raised
her
hands
with
a
look
of
sympathy
,
and
sighed
.
'
Ah
!
You
may
well
sigh
,
Mrs.
Mann
!
'
said
the
beadle
.
Finding
she
had
done
right
,
Mrs.
