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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и философский камень
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- Стр. 31/311
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"
AAAAARRRGH
!
"
Harry
leapt
into
the
air
;
he
'd
trodden
on
something
big
and
squashy
on
the
doormat
--
something
alive
!
Lights
clicked
on
upstairs
and
to
his
horror
Harry
realized
that
the
big
,
squashy
something
had
been
his
uncle
's
face
.
Uncle
Vernon
had
been
lying
at
the
foot
of
the
front
door
in
a
sleeping
bag
,
clearly
making
sure
that
Harry
did
n't
do
exactly
what
he
'd
been
trying
to
do
.
He
shouted
at
Harry
for
about
half
an
hour
and
then
told
him
to
go
and
make
a
cup
of
tea
.
Harry
shuffled
miserably
off
into
the
kitchen
and
by
the
time
he
got
back
,
the
mail
had
arrived
,
right
into
Uncle
Vernon
's
lap
.
Harry
could
see
three
letters
addressed
in
green
ink
.
"
I
want
--
"
he
began
,
but
Uncle
Vernon
was
tearing
the
letters
into
pieces
before
his
eyes
.
Uncle
Vernon
did
n't
go
to
work
that
day
.
He
stayed
at
home
and
nailed
up
the
mail
slot
.
"
See
,
"
he
explained
to
Aunt
Petunia
through
a
mouthful
of
nails
,
"
if
they
ca
n't
deliver
them
they
'll
just
give
up
.
"
"
I
'm
not
sure
that
'll
work
,
Vernon
.
"
"
Oh
,
these
people
's
minds
work
in
strange
ways
,
Petunia
,
they
're
not
like
you
and
me
,
"
said
Uncle
Vernon
,
trying
to
knock
in
a
nail
with
the
piece
of
fruitcake
Aunt
Petunia
had
just
brought
him
.
On
Friday
,
no
less
than
twelve
letters
arrived
for
Harry
.
As
they
could
n't
go
through
the
mail
slot
they
had
been
pushed
under
the
door
,
slotted
through
the
sides
,
and
a
few
even
forced
through
the
small
window
in
the
downstairs
bathroom
.
