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- Фрэнсис Бёрнетт
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- Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой
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- Стр. 88/138
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“
Not
much
afraid
,
is
he
?
”
asked
the
Earl
dryly
.
“
Him
,
your
lordship
!
”
exclaimed
Wilkins
.
“
I
shouldn
’
t
say
as
he
knowed
what
it
meant
.
I
’
ve
taught
young
gen
’
lemen
to
ride
afore
,
an
’
I
never
see
one
stick
on
more
determinder
.
”
“
Tired
?
”
said
the
Earl
to
Fauntleroy
.
“
Want
to
get
off
?
”
“
It
jolts
you
more
than
you
think
it
will
,
”
admitted
his
young
lordship
frankly
.
“
And
it
tires
you
a
little
,
too
;
but
I
don
’
t
want
to
get
off
.
I
want
to
learn
how
.
As
soon
as
I
’
ve
got
my
breath
I
want
to
go
back
for
the
hat
.
”
The
cleverest
person
in
the
world
,
if
he
had
undertaken
to
teach
Fauntleroy
how
to
please
the
old
man
who
watched
him
,
could
not
have
taught
him
anything
which
would
have
succeeded
better
.
As
the
pony
trotted
off
again
toward
the
avenue
,
a
faint
color
crept
up
in
the
fierce
old
face
,
and
the
eyes
,
under
the
shaggy
brows
,
gleamed
with
a
pleasure
such
as
his
lordship
had
scarcely
expected
to
know
again
.
And
he
sat
and
watched
quite
eagerly
until
the
sound
of
the
horses
’
hoofs
returned
.
When
they
did
come
,
which
was
after
some
time
,
they
came
at
a
faster
pace
.
Fauntleroy
’
s
hat
was
still
off
;
Wilkins
was
carrying
it
for
him
;
his
cheeks
were
redder
than
before
,
and
his
hair
was
flying
about
his
ears
,
but
he
came
at
quite
a
brisk
canter
.
“
There
!
”
he
panted
,
as
they
drew
up
,
“
I
c
-
cantered
.
I
didn
’
t
do
it
as
well
as
the
boy
on
Fifth
Avenue
,
but
I
did
it
,
and
I
staid
on
!
”
He
and
Wilkins
and
the
pony
were
close
friends
after
that
.
Scarcely
a
day
passed
in
which
the
country
people
did
not
see
them
out
together
,
cantering
gayly
on
the
highroad
or
through
the
green
lanes
.
The
children
in
the
cottages
would
run
to
the
door
to
look
at
the
proud
little
brown
pony
with
the
gallant
little
figure
sitting
so
straight
in
the
saddle
,
and
the
young
lord
would
snatch
off
his
cap
and
swing
it
at
them
,
and
shout
,
“
Hullo
!
Good
-
morning
!
”
in
a
very
unlordly
manner
,
though
with
great
heartiness
.
Sometimes
he
would
stop
and
talk
with
the
children
,
and
once
Wilkins
came
back
to
the
castle
with
a
story
of
how
Fauntleroy
had
insisted
on
dismounting
near
the
village
school
,
so
that
a
boy
who
was
lame
and
tired
might
ride
home
on
his
pony
.
“
An
’
I
’
m
blessed
,
”
said
Wilkins
,
in
telling
the
story
at
the
stables
,
—
“
I
’
m
blessed
if
he
’
d
hear
of
anything
else
!
He
wouldn
’
t
let
me
get
down
,
because
he
said
the
boy
mightn
’
t
feel
comfortable
on
a
big
horse
.
An
’
ses
he
,
’
Wilkins
,
’
ses
he
,
’
that
boy
’
s
lame
and
I
’
m
not
,
and
I
want
to
talk
to
him
,
too
.
’
And
up
the
lad
has
to
get
,
and
my
lord
trudges
alongside
of
him
with
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
and
his
cap
on
the
back
of
his
head
,
a
-
whistling
and
talking
as
easy
as
you
please
!
And
when
we
come
to
the
cottage
,
an
’
the
boy
’
s
mother
come
out
all
in
a
taking
to
see
what
’
s
up
,
he
whips
off
his
cap
an
’
ses
he
,
’
I
’
ve
brought
your
son
home
,
ma
’
am
,
’
ses
he
,
’
because
his
leg
hurt
him
,
and
I
don
’
t
think
that
stick
is
enough
for
him
to
lean
on
;
and
I
’
m
going
to
ask
my
grandfather
to
have
a
pair
of
crutches
made
for
him
.
