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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 635/859
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‘
Yes
,
I
did
,
’
replied
Sam
.
‘
How
wos
the
dear
creetur
a
-
lookin
’
?
’
‘
Wery
queer
,
’
said
Sam
.
‘
I
think
she
’
s
a
-
injurin
’
herself
gradivally
vith
too
much
o
’
that
‘
ere
pine
-
apple
rum
,
and
other
strong
medicines
of
the
same
natur
.
’
‘
You
don
’
t
mean
that
,
Sammy
?
’
said
the
senior
earnestly
.
‘
I
do
,
indeed
,
’
replied
the
junior
.
Mr
.
Weller
seized
his
son
’
s
hand
,
clasped
it
,
and
let
it
fall
.
There
was
an
expression
on
his
countenance
in
doing
so
—
not
of
dismay
or
apprehension
,
but
partaking
more
of
the
sweet
and
gentle
character
of
hope
.
A
gleam
of
resignation
,
and
even
of
cheerfulness
,
passed
over
his
face
too
,
as
he
slowly
said
,
‘
I
ain
’
t
quite
certain
,
Sammy
;
I
wouldn
’
t
like
to
say
I
wos
altogether
positive
,
in
case
of
any
subsekent
disappointment
,
but
I
rayther
think
,
my
boy
,
I
rayther
think
,
that
the
shepherd
’
s
got
the
liver
complaint
!
’
‘
Does
he
look
bad
?
’
inquired
Sam
.
‘
He
’
s
uncommon
pale
,
’
replied
his
father
,
‘
‘
cept
about
the
nose
,
which
is
redder
than
ever
.
His
appetite
is
wery
so
-
so
,
but
he
imbibes
wonderful
.
’
Some
thoughts
of
the
rum
appeared
to
obtrude
themselves
on
Mr
.
Weller
’
s
mind
,
as
he
said
this
;
for
he
looked
gloomy
and
thoughtful
;
but
he
very
shortly
recovered
,
as
was
testified
by
a
perfect
alphabet
of
winks
,
in
which
he
was
only
wont
to
indulge
when
particularly
pleased
.
‘
Vell
,
now
,
’
said
Sam
,
‘
about
my
affair
.
Just
open
them
ears
o
’
yourn
,
and
don
’
t
say
nothin
’
till
I
’
ve
done
.
’
With
this
preface
,
Sam
related
,
as
succinctly
as
he
could
,
the
last
memorable
conversation
he
had
had
with
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
