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Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 1
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“Ah, Maurice, Maurice!” said Shaugh, with a sigh, “you’ll never improve, – you’ll never improve!”
“Why the devil would I?” said he. “Ain’t I at the top of my profession – full surgeon – with nothing to expect, nothing to hope for? Oh, if I had only remained in the light company, what wouldn’t I be now?”
“Then you were not always a doctor?” said I.
“Upon my conscience, I wasn’t,” said he. “When Shaugh knew me first, I was the Adonis of the Roscommon militia, with more heiresses in my list than any man in the regiment; but Shaugh and myself were always unlucky.”
“Poor Mrs. Rogers!” said the major, pathetically, drinking off his glass and heaving a profound sigh.
“Ah, the darling!” said the doctor. “If it wasn’t for a jug of punch that lay on the hall table, our fortune in life would be very different.”
“True for you, Maurice!” quoth O’Shaughnessy.
“I should like much to hear that story,” said I, pushing the jug briskly round.
“He’ll tell it you,” said O’Shaughnessy, lighting his cigar, and leaning pensively back against a tree, – “he’ll tell it you.”
“I will, with pleasure,” said Maurice. “Let Mr. Free, meantime, amuse himself with the punch-bowl, and I’ll relate it.”
END OF VOLUME I
notes
1
Botany Bay was the slang name given by college men to a new square rather remotely situated from the remainder of the college.
2
To excuse Father Rush for any apparent impiety, I must add that, by “the Lord,” he means “Lord Clanricarde.”
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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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