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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 543/859
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‘
Dreadful
,
indeed
!
’
rejoined
Sam
.
‘
But
it
’
s
always
the
way
,
’
said
Mr
.
John
Smauker
;
‘
if
your
destiny
leads
you
into
public
life
,
and
public
station
,
you
must
expect
to
be
subjected
to
temptations
which
other
people
is
free
from
,
Mr
.
Weller
.
’
‘
Precisely
what
my
uncle
said
,
ven
he
vent
into
the
public
line
,
’
remarked
Sam
,
‘
and
wery
right
the
old
gen
’
l
’
m
’
n
wos
,
for
he
drank
hisself
to
death
in
somethin
’
less
than
a
quarter
.
’
Mr
.
John
Smauker
looked
deeply
indignant
at
any
parallel
being
drawn
between
himself
and
the
deceased
gentleman
in
question
;
but
,
as
Sam
’
s
face
was
in
the
most
immovable
state
of
calmness
,
he
thought
better
of
it
,
and
looked
affable
again
.
‘
Perhaps
we
had
better
be
walking
,
’
said
Mr
.
Smauker
,
consulting
a
copper
timepiece
which
dwelt
at
the
bottom
of
a
deep
watch
-
pocket
,
and
was
raised
to
the
surface
by
means
of
a
black
string
,
with
a
copper
key
at
the
other
end
.
‘
P
’
raps
we
had
,
’
replied
Sam
,
‘
or
they
’
ll
overdo
the
swarry
,
and
that
’
ll
spile
it
.
’
‘
Have
you
drank
the
waters
,
Mr
.
Weller
?
’
inquired
his
companion
,
as
they
walked
towards
High
Street
.
‘
Once
,
’
replied
Sam
.
‘
What
did
you
think
of
’
em
,
Sir
?
’
‘
I
thought
they
was
particklery
unpleasant
,
’
replied
Sam
.
‘
Ah
,
’
said
Mr
.
John
Smauker
,
‘
you
disliked
the
killibeate
taste
,
perhaps
?
’
