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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 120/859
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‘
Hold
up
!
’
said
the
stout
old
Mr
.
Wardle
,
as
Mr
.
Pickwick
dived
head
foremost
into
his
capacious
waistcoat
.
‘
I
never
did
feel
such
a
jolting
in
my
life
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Never
mind
,
’
replied
his
companion
,
‘
it
will
soon
be
over
.
Steady
,
steady
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
planted
himself
into
his
own
corner
,
as
firmly
as
he
could
;
and
on
whirled
the
chaise
faster
than
ever
.
They
had
travelled
in
this
way
about
three
miles
,
when
Mr
.
Wardle
,
who
had
been
looking
out
of
the
Window
for
two
or
three
minutes
,
suddenly
drew
in
his
face
,
covered
with
splashes
,
and
exclaimed
in
breathless
eagerness
—
‘
Here
they
are
!
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
thrust
his
head
out
of
his
window
.
Yes
:
there
was
a
chaise
-
and
-
four
,
a
short
distance
before
them
,
dashing
along
at
full
gallop
.
‘
Go
on
,
go
on
,
’
almost
shrieked
the
old
gentleman
.
‘
Two
guineas
a
-
piece
,
boys
—
don
’
t
let
’
em
gain
on
us
—
keep
it
up
—
keep
it
up
.
’
The
horses
in
the
first
chaise
started
on
at
their
utmost
speed
;
and
those
in
Mr
.
Wardle
’
s
galloped
furiously
behind
them
.
