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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 309/859
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‘
He
raised
his
eyes
to
the
old
man
’
s
countenance
,
and
paused
.
He
lifted
the
light
to
his
face
,
set
it
gently
down
,
and
left
the
apartment
.
‘
"
You
had
better
see
to
the
old
man
,
"
he
said
to
the
woman
,
as
he
opened
the
door
,
and
motioned
the
officer
to
follow
him
into
the
street
.
"
I
think
he
is
ill
.
"
The
woman
closed
the
door
,
ran
hastily
upstairs
,
and
found
him
lifeless
‘
Beneath
a
plain
gravestone
,
in
one
of
the
most
peaceful
and
secluded
churchyards
in
Kent
,
where
wild
flowers
mingle
with
the
grass
,
and
the
soft
landscape
around
forms
the
fairest
spot
in
the
garden
of
England
,
lie
the
bones
of
the
young
mother
and
her
gentle
child
.
But
the
ashes
of
the
father
do
not
mingle
with
theirs
;
nor
,
from
that
night
forward
,
did
the
attorney
ever
gain
the
remotest
clue
to
the
subsequent
history
of
his
queer
client
.
’
As
the
old
man
concluded
his
tale
,
he
advanced
to
a
peg
in
one
corner
,
and
taking
down
his
hat
and
coat
,
put
them
on
with
great
deliberation
;
and
,
without
saying
another
word
,
walked
slowly
away
.
As
the
gentleman
with
the
Mosaic
studs
had
fallen
asleep
,
and
the
major
part
of
the
company
were
deeply
occupied
in
the
humorous
process
of
dropping
melted
tallow
-
grease
into
his
brandy
-
and
-
water
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
departed
unnoticed
,
and
having
settled
his
own
score
,
and
that
of
Mr
.
Weller
,
issued
forth
,
in
company
with
that
gentleman
,
from
beneath
the
portal
of
the
Magpie
and
Stump
.
‘
That
‘
ere
your
governor
’
s
luggage
,
Sammy
?
’
inquired
Mr
.
Weller
of
his
affectionate
son
,
as
he
entered
the
yard
of
the
Bull
Inn
,
Whitechapel
,
with
a
travelling
-
bag
and
a
small
portmanteau
.
‘
You
might
ha
’
made
a
worser
guess
than
that
,
old
feller
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Weller
the
younger
,
setting
down
his
burden
in
the
yard
,
and
sitting
himself
down
upon
it
afterwards
.
‘
The
governor
hisself
’
ll
be
down
here
presently
.
’
‘
He
’
s
a
-
cabbin
’
it
,
I
suppose
?
’
said
the
father
.
‘
Yes
,
he
’
s
a
havin
’
two
mile
o
’
danger
at
eight
-
pence
,
’
responded
the
son
.
‘
How
’
s
mother
-
in
-
law
this
mornin
’
?
’
‘
Queer
,
Sammy
,
queer
,
’
replied
the
elder
Mr
.
Weller
,
with
impressive
gravity
.
‘
She
’
s
been
gettin
’
rayther
in
the
Methodistical
order
lately
,
Sammy
;
and
she
is
uncommon
pious
,
to
be
sure
.
She
’
s
too
good
a
creetur
for
me
,
Sammy
.
I
feel
I
don
’
t
deserve
her
.
’
‘
Ah
,
’
said
Mr
.
Samuel
.
‘
that
’
s
wery
self
-
denyin
’
o
’
you
.
’
‘
Wery
,
’
replied
his
parent
,
with
a
sigh
.
‘
She
’
s
got
hold
o
’
some
inwention
for
grown
-
up
people
being
born
again
,
Sammy
—
the
new
birth
,
I
think
they
calls
it
.
I
should
wery
much
like
to
see
that
system
in
haction
,
Sammy
.
I
should
wery
much
like
to
see
your
mother
-
in
-
law
born
again
.
Wouldn
’
t
I
put
her
out
to
nurse
!
’
