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- Чарльз Диккенс
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A
roar
of
applause
that
rent
the
air
.
‘
He
has
kissed
one
of
’
em
!
’
exclaimed
the
delighted
little
man
.
A
second
roar
.
‘
He
has
kissed
another
,
’
gasped
the
excited
manager
.
A
third
roar
.
‘
He
’
s
kissing
’
em
all
!
’
screamed
the
enthusiastic
little
gentleman
,
and
hailed
by
the
deafening
shouts
of
the
multitude
,
the
procession
moved
on
.
How
or
by
what
means
it
became
mixed
up
with
the
other
procession
,
and
how
it
was
ever
extricated
from
the
confusion
consequent
thereupon
,
is
more
than
we
can
undertake
to
describe
,
inasmuch
as
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
hat
was
knocked
over
his
eyes
,
nose
,
and
mouth
,
by
one
poke
of
a
Buff
flag
-
staff
,
very
early
in
the
proceedings
.
He
describes
himself
as
being
surrounded
on
every
side
,
when
he
could
catch
a
glimpse
of
the
scene
,
by
angry
and
ferocious
countenances
,
by
a
vast
cloud
of
dust
,
and
by
a
dense
crowd
of
combatants
.
He
represents
himself
as
being
forced
from
the
carriage
by
some
unseen
power
,
and
being
personally
engaged
in
a
pugilistic
encounter
;
but
with
whom
,
or
how
,
or
why
,
he
is
wholly
unable
to
state
.
He
then
felt
himself
forced
up
some
wooden
steps
by
the
persons
from
behind
;
and
on
removing
his
hat
,
found
himself
surrounded
by
his
friends
,
in
the
very
front
of
the
left
hand
side
of
the
hustings
.
The
right
was
reserved
for
the
Buff
party
,
and
the
centre
for
the
mayor
and
his
officers
;
one
of
whom
—
the
fat
crier
of
Eatanswill
—
was
ringing
an
enormous
bell
,
by
way
of
commanding
silence
,
while
Mr
.
Horatio
Fizkin
,
and
the
Honourable
Samuel
Slumkey
,
with
their
hands
upon
their
hearts
,
were
bowing
with
the
utmost
affability
to
the
troubled
sea
of
heads
that
inundated
the
open
space
in
front
;
and
from
whence
arose
a
storm
of
groans
,
and
shouts
,
and
yells
,
and
hootings
,
that
would
have
done
honour
to
an
earthquake
.
‘
There
’
s
Winkle
,
’
said
Mr
.
Tupman
,
pulling
his
friend
by
the
sleeve
.
‘
Where
!
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
putting
on
his
spectacles
,
which
he
had
fortunately
kept
in
his
pocket
hitherto
.
‘
There
,
’
said
Mr
.
Tupman
,
‘
on
the
top
of
that
house
.
’
And
there
,
sure
enough
,
in
the
leaden
gutter
of
a
tiled
roof
,
were
Mr
.
Winkle
and
Mrs
.
