The prince and the pauper

PICKWICK PAPERS

(After Charles Dickens)

On a sunny morning of the thirteenth of May, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven Mr. Samuel Pickwick rose from his bed, opened the window and looked out at the world before him. Goswell Street was at his feet, Goswell Street was on his right, Goswell Street was on his left, Goswell Street lay in front of him. Mr. Pickwick was not happy to see only Goswell Street. He wanted to see life in other places surrounding the street. Soon after breakfast Mr. Pickwick with a bag in his hand, a telescope and a note-book in his pocket was ready to meet adventures. He took a cab and went to «Golden Cross», an inn where his friends were waiting for him. On the way there Mr. Pickwick began his studies of London life.

«How old is that horse, my friend?» asked he. «Forty-two», answered the cabman. «What,'» said Mr. Pickwick laying his hand upon the note-book. The cabman repeated the answer and Mr. Pickwick wrote it down in his note-Ibook. «And how long do you keep him out at a time?». «Two or three weeks», answered the cabman. «Weeks!» [said Mr. Pickwick in surprise and he took out his note-|book again. «We seldom take him out of the cab», said the cabman. «He is old, not very strong, and always falls down /hen we take him out of it. So we tie him to the cab, the cab runs after him and pushes him». Mr. Pickwick wrote lown every word told by the cabman in his note-book. He ranted to use the information at a club meeting.

In the old city of London on a cold autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty. The family did not want this boy.

On the same day another English child was born. He was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who want­ed him very much. All England wanted him. People talked only about the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales who lay in silk and did not know that all Eng­land wanted him so much.

But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Can­ty, who lay in his dirty rags and did not know that no­body wanted him.

A few years passed. London was fifteen hundred years old and was a great town.

The street where Tom's family lived was not far from London Bridge and was called Offal Court. It was dirty, and the houses were of wood, with small windows. Can-ty's family lived in one room on the third floor of one of these houses. The mother and the father had a bed, but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan slept on the floor and covered themselves with rags.

Bet and Nan were fifteen years old. They were twins. They were always dirty and in rags, but they were kind-hearted girls. Their mother was like them. But the fa­ther and the grandmother were very bad people. They often got drunk and then they fought each other and beat the children.

Tom's father, John Canty, was a thief, and Tom's grandmother was a beggar, and they made the children beg.

Every day Tom went out to beg in the streets. If no­body gave him any money, his father and grandmother beat him at night and sent him to bed hungry.

But there were some good things in Tom's life. Among the people that lived in the house there was a kind old man who taught Tom a little Latin and how to read and write. He also told him many stories about kings and princes. Tom liked to listen to his stories. He also read the books that the old man gave him.

Tom was a clever boy, he knew so much! And he could do and say such interesting things! When the children played, Tom was always a prince and the boys were lords of his court.

At night when he lay in the dark on his dirty rags, he forgot his hunger and his father's beatings. He thought about kings and princes, who were clean and well dressed and lived in beautiful palaces. Tom wanted to be clean and well dressed too. But in the morning he had to go out in his rags to beg. At night he dreamed that he lived in a palace among lords and ladies. Oh, how he wanted to see a real prince with his own eyes! This wish became stronger and stronger day by day and at last he could think of noth­ing else.

Дата добавления: 2014-11-06