Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

A pleasant Day with an unpleasant Termination

           Tupman,whowasholdinghisasifhewasafraidofitasthereisnoearthlyreasontodoubthereallywas.

           ‘Myfriendsarenotmuchinthewayofthissortofthingyet,Martin,’saidWardle,noticingthelook.‘Liveandlearn,youknow.They’llbegoodshotsoneofthesedays.IbegmyfriendWinkle’spardon,though;hehashadsomepractice.’

           Mr.Winklesmiledfeeblyoverhisblueneckerchiefinacknowledgmentofthecompliment,andgothimselfsomysteriouslyentangledwithhisgun,inhismodestconfusion,thatifthepiecehadbeenloaded,hemustinevitablyhaveshothimselfdeaduponthespot.

           ‘Youmustn’thandleyourpieceinthat‘ereway,whenyoucometohavethechargeinit,Sir,’saidthetallgamekeepergruffly;‘orI’mdamnedifyouwon’tmakecoldmeatofsome

           onus.’

           Mr.Winkle,thusadmonished,abruptlyalteredhisposition,andinsodoing,contrivedtobringthebarrelintoprettysmartcontactwithMr.Weller’shead.

           ‘Hollo!’saidSam,pickinguphishat,whichhadbeenknockedoff,andrubbinghistemple.‘Hollo,sir!ifyoucomesitthisvay,you’llfilloneo’thembags,andsomethingtospare,atonefire.’

           Heretheleather-leggingedboylaughedveryheartily,andthentriedtolookasifitwassomebodyelse,whereatMr.Winklefrownedmajestically.

           ‘Wheredidyoutelltheboytomeetuswiththesnack,Martin?’inquiredWardle.

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