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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 587/859
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‘
Hold
hard
,
’
whispered
Sam
,
who
was
,
of
course
,
the
first
of
the
party
.
‘
Show
a
light
for
just
vun
second
,
Sir
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
did
as
he
was
desired
,
and
Sam
,
seeing
a
man
’
s
head
peeping
out
very
cautiously
within
half
a
yard
of
his
own
,
gave
it
a
gentle
tap
with
his
clenched
fist
,
which
knocked
it
,
with
a
hollow
sound
,
against
the
gate
.
Having
performed
this
feat
with
great
suddenness
and
dexterity
,
Mr
.
Weller
caught
Mr
.
Pickwick
up
on
his
back
,
and
followed
Mr
.
Winkle
down
the
lane
at
a
pace
which
,
considering
the
burden
he
carried
,
was
perfectly
astonishing
.
‘
Have
you
got
your
vind
back
agin
,
Sir
,
’
inquired
Sam
,
when
they
had
reached
the
end
.
‘
Quite
.
Quite
,
now
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Then
come
along
,
Sir
,
’
said
Sam
,
setting
his
master
on
his
feet
again
.
‘
Come
betveen
us
,
sir
.
Not
half
a
mile
to
run
.
Think
you
’
re
vinnin
’
a
cup
,
sir
.
Now
for
it
.
’
Thus
encouraged
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
made
the
very
best
use
of
his
legs
.
It
may
be
confidently
stated
that
a
pair
of
black
gaiters
never
got
over
the
ground
in
better
style
than
did
those
of
Mr
.
Pickwick
on
this
memorable
occasion
.
The
coach
was
waiting
,
the
horses
were
fresh
,
the
roads
were
good
,
and
the
driver
was
willing
.
The
whole
party
arrived
in
safety
at
the
Bush
before
Mr
.
Pickwick
had
recovered
his
breath
.
‘
in
with
you
at
once
,
sir
,
’
said
Sam
,
as
he
helped
his
master
out
.
‘
Don
’
t
stop
a
second
in
the
street
,
arter
that
‘
ere
exercise
Beg
your
pardon
,
sir
,
‘
continued
Sam
,
touching
his
hat
as
Mr
.
Winkle
descended
,
‘
hope
there
warn
’
t
a
priory
‘
tachment
,
sir
?
’
Mr
.
Winkle
grasped
his
humble
friend
by
the
hand
,
and
whispered
in
his
ear
,
‘
It
’
s
all
right
,
Sam
;
quite
right
.
’
Upon
which
Mr
.
Weller
struck
three
distinct
blows
upon
his
nose
in
token
of
intelligence
,
smiled
,
winked
,
and
proceeded
to
put
the
steps
up
,
with
a
countenance
expressive
of
lively
satisfaction
.
