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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 68/459
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‘
Why
,
how
tired
you
look
,
my
dear
!
’
‘
Old
master
an
’
t
gone
out
to
-
night
,
’
said
Kit
;
‘
and
so
she
hasn
’
t
been
at
the
window
at
all
.
’
With
which
words
,
he
sat
down
by
the
fire
and
looked
very
mournful
and
discontented
.
The
room
in
which
Kit
sat
himself
down
,
in
this
condition
,
was
an
extremely
poor
and
homely
place
,
but
with
that
air
of
comfort
about
it
,
nevertheless
,
which
—
or
the
spot
must
be
a
wretched
one
indeed
—
cleanliness
and
order
can
always
impart
in
some
degree
.
Late
as
the
Dutch
clock
showed
it
to
be
,
the
poor
woman
was
still
hard
at
work
at
an
ironing
-
table
;
a
young
child
lay
sleeping
in
a
cradle
near
the
fire
;
and
another
,
a
sturdy
boy
of
two
or
three
years
old
,
very
wide
awake
,
with
a
very
tight
night
-
cap
on
his
head
,
and
a
night
-
gown
very
much
too
small
for
him
on
his
body
,
was
sitting
bolt
upright
in
a
clothes
-
basket
,
staring
over
the
rim
with
his
great
round
eyes
,
and
looking
as
if
he
had
thoroughly
made
up
his
mind
never
to
go
to
sleep
any
more
;
which
,
as
he
had
already
declined
to
take
his
natural
rest
and
had
been
brought
out
of
bed
in
consequence
,
opened
a
cheerful
prospect
for
his
relations
and
friends
.
It
was
rather
a
queer
-
looking
family
:
Kit
,
his
mother
,
and
the
children
,
being
all
strongly
alike
.
Kit
was
disposed
to
be
out
of
temper
,
as
the
best
of
us
are
too
often
—
but
he
looked
at
the
youngest
child
who
was
sleeping
soundly
,
and
from
him
to
his
other
brother
in
the
clothes
-
basket
,
and
from
him
to
their
mother
,
who
had
been
at
work
without
complaint
since
morning
,
and
thought
it
would
be
a
better
and
kinder
thing
to
be
good
-
humoured
.
So
he
rocked
the
cradle
with
his
foot
;
made
a
face
at
the
rebel
in
the
clothes
-
basket
,
which
put
him
in
high
good
-
humour
directly
;
and
stoutly
determined
to
be
talkative
and
make
himself
agreeable
.
‘
Ah
,
mother
!
’
said
Kit
,
taking
out
his
clasp
-
knife
,
and
falling
upon
a
great
piece
of
bread
and
meat
which
she
had
had
ready
for
him
,
hours
before
,
‘
what
a
one
you
are
!
There
an
’
t
many
such
as
you
,
I
know
.
’
‘
I
hope
there
are
many
a
great
deal
better
,
Kit
,
’
said
Mrs
Nubbles
;
‘
and
that
there
are
,
or
ought
to
be
,
accordin
’
to
what
the
parson
at
chapel
says
.
’
‘
Much
he
knows
about
it
,
’
returned
Kit
contemptuously
.
‘
Wait
till
he
’
s
a
widder
and
works
like
you
do
,
and
gets
as
little
,
and
does
as
much
,
and
keeps
his
spirit
up
the
same
,
and
then
I
’
ll
ask
him
what
’
s
o
’
clock
and
trust
him
for
being
right
to
half
a
second
.
’
‘
Well
,
’
said
Mrs
Nubbles
,
evading
the
point
,
‘
your
beer
’
s
down
there
by
the
fender
,
Kit
.
’
