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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 273/859
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‘
Well
,
that
certainly
is
most
capital
cold
punch
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
looking
earnestly
at
the
stone
bottle
;
‘
and
the
day
is
extremely
warm
,
and
—
Tupman
,
my
dear
friend
,
a
glass
of
punch
?
’
‘
With
the
greatest
delight
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Tupman
;
and
having
drank
that
glass
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
took
another
,
just
to
see
whether
there
was
any
orange
peel
in
the
punch
,
because
orange
peel
always
disagreed
with
him
;
and
finding
that
there
was
not
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
took
another
glass
to
the
health
of
their
absent
friend
,
and
then
felt
himself
imperatively
called
upon
to
propose
another
in
honour
of
the
punch
-
compounder
,
unknown
.
This
constant
succession
of
glasses
produced
considerable
effect
upon
Mr
.
Pickwick
;
his
countenance
beamed
with
the
most
sunny
smiles
,
laughter
played
around
his
lips
,
and
good
-
humoured
merriment
twinkled
in
his
eye
.
Yielding
by
degrees
to
the
influence
of
the
exciting
liquid
,
rendered
more
so
by
the
heat
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
expressed
a
strong
desire
to
recollect
a
song
which
he
had
heard
in
his
infancy
,
and
the
attempt
proving
abortive
,
sought
to
stimulate
his
memory
with
more
glasses
of
punch
,
which
appeared
to
have
quite
a
contrary
effect
;
for
,
from
forgetting
the
words
of
the
song
,
he
began
to
forget
how
to
articulate
any
words
at
all
;
and
finally
,
after
rising
to
his
legs
to
address
the
company
in
an
eloquent
speech
,
he
fell
into
the
barrow
,
and
fast
asleep
,
simultaneously
.
The
basket
having
been
repacked
,
and
it
being
found
perfectly
impossible
to
awaken
Mr
.
Pickwick
from
his
torpor
,
some
discussion
took
place
whether
it
would
be
better
for
Mr
.
Weller
to
wheel
his
master
back
again
,
or
to
leave
him
where
he
was
,
until
they
should
all
be
ready
to
return
.
The
latter
course
was
at
length
decided
on
;
and
as
the
further
expedition
was
not
to
exceed
an
hour
’
s
duration
,
and
as
Mr
.
Weller
begged
very
hard
to
be
one
of
the
party
,
it
was
determined
to
leave
Mr
.
Pickwick
asleep
in
the
barrow
,
and
to
call
for
him
on
their
return
.
So
away
they
went
,
leaving
Mr
.
Pickwick
snoring
most
comfortably
in
the
shade
.
That
Mr
.
Pickwick
would
have
continued
to
snore
in
the
shade
until
his
friends
came
back
,
or
,
in
default
thereof
,
until
the
shades
of
evening
had
fallen
on
the
landscape
,
there
appears
no
reasonable
cause
to
doubt
;
always
supposing
that
he
had
been
suffered
to
remain
there
in
peace
.
But
he
was
NOT
suffered
to
remain
there
in
peace
.
And
this
was
what
prevented
him
.
Captain
Boldwig
was
a
little
fierce
man
in
a
stiff
black
neckerchief
and
blue
surtout
,
who
,
when
he
did
condescend
to
walk
about
his
property
,
did
it
in
company
with
a
thick
rattan
stick
with
a
brass
ferrule
,
and
a
gardener
and
sub
-
gardener
with
meek
faces
,
to
whom
(
the
gardeners
,
not
the
stick
)
Captain
Boldwig
gave
his
orders
with
all
due
grandeur
and
ferocity
;
for
Captain
Boldwig
’
s
wife
’
s
sister
had
married
a
marquis
,
and
the
captain
’
s
house
was
a
villa
,
and
his
land
‘
grounds
,
’
and
it
was
all
very
high
,
and
mighty
,
and
great
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
had
not
been
asleep
half
an
hour
when
little
Captain
Boldwig
,
followed
by
the
two
gardeners
,
came
striding
along
as
fast
as
his
size
and
importance
would
let
him
;
and
when
he
came
near
the
oak
tree
,
Captain
Boldwig
paused
and
drew
a
long
breath
,
and
looked
at
the
prospect
as
if
he
thought
the
prospect
ought
to
be
highly
gratified
at
having
him
to
take
notice
of
it
;
and
then
he
struck
the
ground
emphatically
with
his
stick
,
and
summoned
the
head
-
gardener
.
‘
Hunt
,
’
said
Captain
Boldwig
.
‘
Yes
,
Sir
,
’
said
the
gardener
.