Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

In which Mr. Pickwick encounters an old Acquaintance — To which fortunate Circumstance the Reader is

           Slurklaughedveryheartily,andfoldingupthepapersoastogetatafreshcolumnconveniently,said,thattheblockheadreallyamusedhim.

           ‘Whatanimpudentblundererthisfellowis,’saidPott,turningfrompinktocrimson.

           ‘Didyoueverreadanyofthisman’sfoolery,Sir?’inquiredSlurkofBobSawyer.

           ‘Never,’repliedBob;‘isitverybad?’

           ‘Oh,shocking!shocking!’rejoinedSlurk.

           ‘Really!Dearme,thisistooatrocious!’exclaimedPott,atthisjuncture;stillfeigningtobeabsorbedinhisreading.

           ‘Ifyoucanwadethroughafewsentencesofmalice,meanness,falsehood,perjury,treachery,andcant,’saidSlurk,handingthepapertoBob,‘youwill,perhaps,besomewhatrepaidbyalaughatthestyleofthisungrammaticaltwaddler.’

           ‘What’sthatyousaid,Sir?’inquiredMr.Pott,lookingup,tremblingalloverwithpassion.

           ‘What’sthattoyou,sir?’repliedSlurk.

           ‘Ungrammaticaltwaddler,wasit,sir?’saidPott.

           ‘Yes,sir,itwas,’repliedSlurk;‘andBLUEBORE,Sir,ifyoulikethatbetter;ha!ha!’

           Mr.Pottretortednotawordatthisjocoseinsult,butdeliberatelyfoldeduphiscopyoftheINDEPENDENT,flatteneditcarefullydown,crusheditbeneathhisboot,spatuponitwithgreatceremony,andflungitintothefire.

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