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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 766/859
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‘
What
’
s
that
to
you
,
sir
?
’
replied
Slurk
.
‘
Ungrammatical
twaddler
,
was
it
,
sir
?
’
said
Pott
.
‘
Yes
,
sir
,
it
was
,
’
replied
Slurk
;
‘
and
BLUE
BORE
,
Sir
,
if
you
like
that
better
;
ha
!
ha
!
’
Mr
.
Pott
retorted
not
a
word
at
this
jocose
insult
,
but
deliberately
folded
up
his
copy
of
the
INDEPENDENT
,
flattened
it
carefully
down
,
crushed
it
beneath
his
boot
,
spat
upon
it
with
great
ceremony
,
and
flung
it
into
the
fire
.
‘
There
,
sir
,
’
said
Pott
,
retreating
from
the
stove
,
‘
and
that
’
s
the
way
I
would
serve
the
viper
who
produces
it
,
if
I
were
not
,
fortunately
for
him
,
restrained
by
the
laws
of
my
country
.
’
‘
Serve
him
so
,
sir
!
’
cried
Slurk
,
starting
up
.
‘
Those
laws
shall
never
be
appealed
to
by
him
,
sir
,
in
such
a
case
.
Serve
him
so
,
sir
!
’
‘
Hear
!
hear
!
’
said
Bob
Sawyer
.
‘
Nothing
can
be
fairer
,
’
observed
Mr
.
Ben
Allen
.
‘
Serve
him
so
,
sir
!
’
reiterated
Slurk
,
in
a
loud
voice
.
Mr
.
Pott
darted
a
look
of
contempt
,
which
might
have
withered
an
anchor
.
