Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

A pleasant Day with an unpleasant Termination

           

           ‘Punch,Ithink,sir,’repliedWilkins.

           ‘That’shisimpudencethat’shisconfoundedimpudence,’saidCaptainBoldwig.‘He’sonlyfeigningtobeasleepnow,’saidthecaptain,inahighpassion.‘He’sdrunk;he’sadrunkenplebeian.Wheelhimaway,Wilkins,wheelhimawaydirectly.’‘WhereshallIwheelhimto,sir?’inquiredWilkins,withgreattimidity.

           ‘Wheelhimtothedevil,’repliedCaptainBoldwig.

           ‘Verywell,sir,’saidWilkins.

           ‘Stay,’saidthecaptain.

           Wilkinsstoppedaccordingly.

           ‘Wheelhim,’saidthecaptain—‘wheelhimtothepound;andletusseewhetherhecallshimselfPunchwhenhecomestohimself.Heshallnotbullymeheshallnotbullyme.Wheelhimaway.’

           AwayMr.Pickwickwaswheeledincompliancewiththisimperiousmandate;andthegreatCaptainBoldwig,swellingwithindignation,proceededonhiswalk.

           Inexpressiblewastheastonishmentofthelittlepartywhentheyreturned,tofindthatMr.Pickwickhaddisappeared,andtakenthewheel-barrowwithhim.ItwasthemostmysteriousandunaccountablethingthatwaseverheardofForalamemantohavegotuponhislegswithoutanypreviousnotice,andwalkedoff,wouldhavebeenmostextraordinary;butwhenitcametohiswheelingaheavybarrowbeforehim,bywayofamusement,itgrewpositivelymiraculous.

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