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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 439/859
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It
was
at
this
moment
,
when
old
Wardle
and
Sam
Weller
were
approaching
the
hole
with
cautious
steps
,
and
Mr
.
Benjamin
Allen
was
holding
a
hurried
consultation
with
Mr
.
Bob
Sawyer
on
the
advisability
of
bleeding
the
company
generally
,
as
an
improving
little
bit
of
professional
practice
—
it
was
at
this
very
moment
,
that
a
face
,
head
,
and
shoulders
,
emerged
from
beneath
the
water
,
and
disclosed
the
features
and
spectacles
of
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Keep
yourself
up
for
an
instant
—
for
only
one
instant
!
’
bawled
Mr
.
Snodgrass
.
‘
Yes
,
do
;
let
me
implore
you
—
for
my
sake
!
’
roared
Mr
.
Winkle
,
deeply
affected
.
The
adjuration
was
rather
unnecessary
;
the
probability
being
,
that
if
Mr
.
Pickwick
had
declined
to
keep
himself
up
for
anybody
else
’
s
sake
,
it
would
have
occurred
to
him
that
he
might
as
well
do
so
,
for
his
own
.
‘
Do
you
feel
the
bottom
there
,
old
fellow
?
’
said
Wardle
.
‘
Yes
,
certainly
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
wringing
the
water
from
his
head
and
face
,
and
gasping
for
breath
.
‘
I
fell
upon
my
back
.
I
couldn
’
t
get
on
my
feet
at
first
.
’
The
clay
upon
so
much
of
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
coat
as
was
yet
visible
,
bore
testimony
to
the
accuracy
of
this
statement
;
and
as
the
fears
of
the
spectators
were
still
further
relieved
by
the
fat
boy
’
s
suddenly
recollecting
that
the
water
was
nowhere
more
than
five
feet
deep
,
prodigies
of
valour
were
performed
to
get
him
out
.
After
a
vast
quantity
of
splashing
,
and
cracking
,
and
struggling
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
at
length
fairly
extricated
from
his
unpleasant
position
,
and
once
more
stood
on
dry
land
.
‘
Oh
,
he
’
ll
catch
his
death
of
cold
,
’
said
Emily
.
‘
Dear
old
thing
!
’
said
Arabella
.
‘
Let
me
wrap
this
shawl
round
you
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
’
‘
Ah
,
that
’
s
the
best
thing
you
can
do
,
’
said
Wardle
;
‘
and
when
you
’
ve
got
it
on
,
run
home
as
fast
as
your
legs
can
carry
you
,
and
jump
into
bed
directly
.
’
A
dozen
shawls
were
offered
on
the
instant
.
Three
or
four
of
the
thickest
having
been
selected
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
wrapped
up
,
and
started
off
,
under
the
guidance
of
Mr
.
Weller
;
presenting
the
singular
phenomenon
of
an
elderly
gentleman
,
dripping
wet
,
and
without
a
hat
,
with
his
arms
bound
down
to
his
sides
,
skimming
over
the
ground
,
without
any
clearly
-
defined
purpose
,
at
the
rate
of
six
good
English
miles
an
hour
.
