-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Кеннет Грэм
-
- Дни грёз
-
- Стр. 34/57
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Our
spirits
rose
to
their
wonted
level
again
.
The
way
had
seemed
so
long
,
the
outside
world
so
dark
and
eerie
,
after
the
bright
warm
room
and
the
highly
-
coloured
beast
-
book
.
But
a
walk
with
a
real
Man
—
why
,
that
was
a
treat
in
itself
!
We
set
off
briskly
,
the
Man
in
the
middle
.
I
looked
up
at
him
and
wondered
whether
I
should
ever
live
to
smoke
a
big
pipe
with
that
careless
sort
of
majesty
!
But
Charlotte
,
whose
young
mind
was
not
set
on
tobacco
as
a
possible
goal
,
made
herself
heard
from
the
other
side
.
“
Now
,
then
,
”
she
said
,
“
tell
us
a
story
,
please
,
won
’
t
you
?
”
The
Man
sighed
heavily
and
looked
about
him
.
“
I
knew
it
,
”
he
groaned
.
“
I
KNEW
I
should
have
to
tell
a
story
.
Oh
,
why
did
I
leave
my
pleasant
fireside
?
Well
,
I
WILL
tell
you
a
story
.
Only
let
me
think
a
minute
.
”
So
he
thought
a
minute
,
and
then
he
told
us
this
story
.
Long
ago
—
might
have
been
hundreds
of
years
ago
—
in
a
cottage
half
-
way
between
this
village
and
yonder
shoulder
of
the
Downs
up
there
,
a
shepherd
lived
with
his
wife
and
their
little
son
.
Now
the
shepherd
spent
his
days
—
and
at
certain
times
of
the
year
his
nights
too
—
up
on
the
wide
ocean
-
bosom
of
the
Downs
,
with
only
the
sun
and
the
stars
and
the
sheep
for
company
,
and
the
friendly
chattering
world
of
men
and
women
far
out
of
sight
and
hearing
.
But
his
little
son
,
when
he
wasn
’
t
helping
his
father
,
and
often
when
he
was
as
well
,
spent
much
of
his
time
buried
in
big
volumes
that
he
borrowed
from
the
affable
gentry
and
interested
parsons
of
the
country
round
about
.
And
his
parents
were
very
fond
of
him
,
and
rather
proud
of
him
too
,
though
they
didn
’
t
let
on
in
his
hearing
,
so
he
was
left
to
go
his
own
way
and
read
as
much
as
he
liked
;
and
instead
of
frequently
getting
a
cuff
on
the
side
of
the
head
,
as
might
very
well
have
happened
to
him
,
he
was
treated
more
or
less
as
an
equal
by
his
parents
,
who
sensibly
thought
it
a
very
fair
division
of
labour
that
they
should
supply
the
practical
knowledge
,
and
he
the
book
-
learning
.
They
knew
that
book
-
learning
often
came
in
useful
at
a
pinch
,
in
spite
of
what
their
neighbours
said
.
What
the
Boy
chiefly
dabbled
in
was
natural
history
and
fairy
-
tales
,
and
he
just
took
them
as
they
came
,
in
a
sandwichy
sort
of
way
,
without
making
any
distinctions
;
and
really
his
course
of
reading
strikes
one
as
rather
sensible
.
One
evening
the
shepherd
,
who
for
some
nights
past
had
been
disturbed
and
preoccupied
,
and
off
his
usual
mental
balance
,
came
home
all
of
a
tremble
,
and
,
sitting
down
at
the
table
where
his
wife
and
son
were
peacefully
employed
,
she
with
her
seam
,
he
in
following
out
the
adventures
of
the
Giant
with
no
Heart
in
his
Body
,
exclaimed
with
much
agitation
:
“
It
’
s
all
up
with
me
,
Maria
!
Never
no
more
can
I
go
up
on
them
there
Downs
,
was
it
ever
so
!
”
“
Now
don
’
t
you
take
on
like
that
,
”
said
his
wife
,
who
was
a
VERY
sensible
woman
:
“
but
tell
us
all
about
it
first
,
whatever
it
is
as
has
given
you
this
shake
-
up
,
and
then
me
and
you
and
the
son
here
,
between
us
,
we
ought
to
be
able
to
get
to
the
bottom
of
it
!
”
“
It
began
some
nights
ago
,
”
said
the
shepherd
.
“
You
know
that
cave
up
there
—
I
never
liked
it
,
somehow
,
and
the
sheep
never
liked
it
neither
,
and
when
sheep
don
’
t
like
a
thing
there
’
s
generally
some
reason
for
it
.
Well
,
for
some
time
past
there
’
s
been
faint
noises
coming
from
that
cave
—
noises
like
heavy
sighings
,
with
grunts
mixed
up
in
them
;
and
sometimes
a
snoring
,
far
away
down
—
REAL
snoring
,
yet
somehow
not
HONEST
snoring
,
like
you
and
me
o
’
nights
,
you
know
!
”
