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10 short stories O. Henry. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Неадаптированный текст
O. Henry

Роман Зинзер


В этой книге мы собрали самые интересные рассказы О. Генри для чтения на английском языке. Суть наших книг – частичный перевод текста на русский язык и его комментарии от преподавателя английского языка Романа Зинзера. Рассказы не адаптированы, рекомендуемый уровень знания английского языка – не ниже Intermediate.





Предисловие учебного издания

О.Генри писал сложно и цветисто и поэтому, если ваш английский еще пока не Intermediate или около того, то вам не нужно читать эту книгу.

Особенность всех рассказов О. Генри – это длинные предложения, насыщенность причастиями, пассивами, сложными временами, метафорами, всем тем, что требует хорошего знания грамматики английского языка и обширного словарного запаса.

Текст в этой книге устроен следующим образом: жирным шрифтом выделены сложные грамматические конструкции и метафоры (которые, возможно, вам и не покажутся сложными), а также трудные для перевода ключевые моменты рассказов и некоторые фразовые глаголы. Сразу за жирным текстом в скобках курсивом будет мой перевод и, если надо, его пояснение. Да, мой текст всегда в скобках и всегда курсивом. Иногда в прямых скобках вы увидите фразу «буквально —» и фразу «лучше —» или «здесь —». Это значит, что я привожу прямой, буквальный перевод отрывка, а затем тот, который более уместен в этом конкретном контексте.

В книге я перевел только трудные места текста. Остальное же – ваша работа. Вам точно потребуется словарь, и место, куда вы будете записывать новые слова и обороты. Тогда с каждым прочитанным рассказом ваш английской будет становиться лучше. Я уверен, что учебные книги с полным переводом текста, будь он построчный или кусками – это плохие учебные книги. Также, как и двуязычные издания, где на одной странице идет английский текст, а на соседней – его дословный перевод. Почему это плохо? Это слишком облегчает задачу читателя. Когда вы не работаете, не ищете в словаре новые слова, не думаете над переводом всего предложения, а просто подсматриваете в готовое, вы не учитесь, не привыкаете к структуре английского языка, а просто считываете. Чтение на английском должно быть достаточно сложным, чтобы оно было полезным. По той же причине в конце книги нет словаря, как это обычно бывает. Это ваша работа, а не моя записывать новые слова, переводить их и запоминать. Да, времени уйдет больше, это скучно, но, если вы не поленитесь и сделаете это, ваши знания и навыки станут лучше. А словарь в конце книги будет заброшен сразу же после прочтения. Я такое чтение за глаза называю халтурой.

Приятного чтения, главное, установите на вашем телефоне хороший словарь, записывайте новые слова и составляйте с ними предложения, которые тоже лучше записывать. Тогда все запомнится. Удачи и спасибо за чтение.

Преподаватель английского языка

Роман Зинзер

zinzer-studio.com

@romanzinzer



The Gift of the Magi

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies |были по одному центу|. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing |торгуясь и мучая| the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied |пока щеки не начинали гореть от их молчаливого осуждения в скупости, точно имела место бытьразужприходилосьтакторговаться|. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing left to do but flop down |кроме как завалиться… Слово “but” – это не только “но”. Это еще и “кроме”| on the shabby little couch and howl |завыть|. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs |Это приводит к мысли о том, что жизнь состоит из слез…|, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second |Пока хозяйка… скользила вниз от первой стадии ко второй… Тут О. Генри имеет в виду, что моральный дух Деллы становился все слабее|, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description |не точтобыэтоподходилоподописаниевопиющейнищеты|, but it certainly had that word on the look-out for the mendicancy squad |скореевыглядело, каккрасноречивомолчащаябедность|.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go |куда письмо и не поместится|, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring |буквально – ни одному смертному пальцу не заставить его зазвонить. Лучше – ни один живой человек не выдавит из него звонок|. Also appertaining thereunto was |там же прикреплялась| a card bearing the name “Mr. James Dillingham Young.”

The “Dillingham” had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity |Неправильный глагол “to fling” – это швырять, растягивать, бросать, забрасывать. Здесь имеется в виду, что имя Джеймса на карточке растянулось во всю длину «под бризом», или недавним периодом благосостояния| when its possessor was being paid |ему платили| $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk |сжался, скукожился| to $20, the letters of “Dillingham” looked blurred |размыто|, as though they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. |…переделать на более скромное и непретенциозное| But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called “Jim” and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young |в английском часто принято называть супругу по имени мужа: миссис Джеймс…|, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag |прошлась пудрой по щекам|. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a grey cat walking a grey fence in a grey backyard. To-morrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving |она откладывала… Had been и глагол с окончанием -ing значит, что она что-то делала вплоть до того самого момента в рассказе| every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn’t go far |…далеко неуедешь|. Expenses had been greater |былибольше| than she had calculated. They always are |Итакпроисходитвсегда|. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour |Многиечасы| she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling |безукоризненное| – something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honour of being owned by Jim |что-тохотьблизко стоящее той радости принадлежать Джиму|.

There was a pier-glass |трюмо с зеркалом| between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile |ловкий| person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips |отражение в целом ряду вытянутых полос|, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks |может получить более или менее верное представление о том, как он выглядит|. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled |to whirl – кружиться, вертеться| from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its colour within |в течение, в пределах чего-либо| twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down |to pull down – потянуть вниз| her hair and let it fall |буквально – позволила упасть. Лучше – отпустила| to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs |в конце имени Джима стоит “s”, а значит речь о семье Янгов, а не о Джиме| in which they both took a mighty pride |чем они очень гордились|. One was Jim’s gold watch that had been his father’s and his grandfather’s. The other was Della’s hair. Had the Queen of Sheba lived |Если бы хоть самацарицаСавскаяжила…| in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out of the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty’s jewels and gifts |специальносушилабыволосынапротивокна, просточтобызаставитьпомеркнуть|. Had King Solomon been the janitor |услова “a janitor” многозначений. Это и уборщик, и дворник, и слуга, и швейцар. Тут О.Генри имеет ввиду именно швейцара, который стоит и встречает гостей, а в подвале у него все богатства Соломона, а Джим бы, зная об этих богатствах все равно проходил бы мимо и вытаскивал бы свои прекрасные часы, а швейцар-Соломон, видел бы эти часы, и при всех своих богатствах, завидовал бы Джиму|, with all his treasures piled up |to pile up – собирать в кучу, накапливать| in the basement, Jim would have pulled out |выдергивалбы. Would и have, и третья форма глагола здесь значат, что вся эта ситуация гипотетическая и в реальной жизни никак не возможна| his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della’s beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining |сверкая, окутали ее| like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment |одеяние| for her. And then she did it up |подняла их| again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered |засомневалась. Сейчас в речи в этом смысле чаще используется слово ”to doubt”| for a minute and stood still |to stand still – замереть| while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat |О. Генри часто пользуется приемом инверсии – переставляет слова в предложении так, что оно получается не вполне стандартным для английского языка. On went her old brown jacket – это инверсия. Обычное предложение выглядело бы “her old brown jacket went on” – она надела| With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she cluttered out |устремилась| of the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read |буквально – на знаке читалось|: “M-me Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds.” One flight up Della ran |взбежала на один пролет, а значит, на второй этаж|,and collected herself, panting |перевела дух|. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the “Sofronie |не выглядела сообразно своему имени|.”

“Will you buy my hair?” asked Della.

“I buy hair,” said Madame. «Take yer |это не опечатка. О. Генри передает произношение мадам| hat off and let’s have a sight at the looks of it.”

Down rippled the brown cascade.

“Twenty dollars,” said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

“Give it to me quick” said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings |пролетели на розовых крыльях|. Forget the hashed metaphor |Буквально – забудьте грубую метафору. Лучше – простите за избитую метафору|. She was ransacking |рыскала| the stores for Jim’s present.

She found it at last |наконец|. It surely had been made |было сделано| for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out |вывернула их на изнанку в поисках|. It was a platinum fob chain |цепочка для часов| simple and chaste |строгая| in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation |ценная самим материалом, а не показушными орнаментами| – as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim’s. It was like him |Это была его вещь|. Quietness and value – the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 78 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious |может переживать овремени| about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap |украдкой из-за кожаного ремешка…| that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication |тут О. Генри имеет в виду не интоксикацию в буквальном смысле, а нечто вроде воодушевления, на смену которому пришел разум| gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love |последствия великодушияилюбви|. Which is always a tremendous task |огромнаязадача| dear friends —a mammoth |громадная| task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy |школьника, удравшего с уроков|. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl |на хористку с Кони Айленда. Кони Айленд, кстати, у О. Генри будет часто появляться в рассказах. Не мудрено. Ранее на этой окраине Бруклина была куча развлечений: рестораны, кафе, парк аттракционов и пляж. Сейчас там остался только пляж и огромная община русскоязычных иммигрантов и палестинцев. Да, да, тот самый пресловутый Брайтон Бич находится именно на Кони Айленде|. But what could I do – oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?”

At 7 o’clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops |ребрышки|.

Jim was never late. Della doubled |сложила вдвое| the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white |побледнела| for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: “Please, God, make him think I am still pretty.”

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two – and to be burdened with |а уже с таким грузом…| a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stepped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail |как сеттер на запах перепела|. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval |nor – это частица “не” или “ни” при перечислении|, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared |внимательно смотрел| at her fixedly |неотрывно| with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off |соскочила со| the table and went for him.

“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold it because I couldn’t have lived through |не смогла бы встретить…| Christmas without giving you a present. It’ll grow out again – you won’t mind |ты не будешь сердиться|, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say ‘Merry Christmas!’ Jim, and let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice – what a beautiful, nice gift I’ve got for you.”

“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim, laboriously |с трудом|, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet |как будто он еще не осознал…|, even after the hardest mental labour.

“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I |ain’t – жаргонное производное глагола to be, которое всегда используется в отрицании и без привязки к лицу: He ain’t good, they ain’t here…|?”

Jim looked about the room curiously.

“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you —sold and gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you |это было сделано для тебя|. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with a sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?”

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake |опять инверсия и нестандартный порядок слов|. He enfolded |обнял| his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction |давайте будем скромны и посмотрим на что-нибудь другое, в другом направлении|. Eight dollars a week or a million a year – what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit |остряк | would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them |этого среди них не было|. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on |впрочемнеясностьэтогоутверждениябудетразъясненапозже|.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “ about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less |нет ничего.., что заставит любить тебя меньше|. But if you’ll |вообще-то, по строгим правилам, will после if тут стоять не должно, и О. Генри об этом точно знает. Видимо, он тем самым он хочет сказать, что Джим – парень простой, в университетах не учился| unwrap that package you may see why you had me going |я так себя вел| a while at first.»

White fingers and nimble |проворно| tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating |требующие| the immediate employment |здесь это не трудоустройство, а вмешательство| of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs |гребни для волос| – the set of combs, side and back |задние и боковые|, that Della had worshipped |обожала| for long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise-shell |из панциря черепахи|, with jewelled rims —just the shade to wear |под цвет ее волос| in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned|изнывало и томилось| over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone |локонов… больше не было|.

But she hugged them to her bosom |к груди|, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes |глазами с поволокой| and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”

And then Della leaped up |прыгнула| like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”

Jim had not yet seen |еще пока не видел| his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly |воодушевленно| upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit |пылкой души|.

“Isn’t it a dandy |превосходна|, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”

Instead of obeying |Вместо того, чтобы подчиниться|, Jim tumbled down |рухнул| on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ‘em |them. Разговорное сокращение| a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on |пора накладывать ребрышки|.”

The magi, as you know, were wise men – wonderfully wise men – who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger |ясли|. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise |Будучи мудрыми|, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication |их можно было даже обменять, в случае повторения|. And here I have lamely |нескладно| related to you the uneventful |не насыщенную событиями| chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise |ко всем мудрым| of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.



Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen

There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits |saleratus – сода| and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to |удивляться, что старый колодец ближе к крыльцу, чем казался. Оборот used to значит, что раньше что-то происходило, но больше нет. I used to smoke – я раньше курил, но больше не курю|. Bless the day. President Roosevelt gives it to us. We hear some talk of the Puritans |о пуританах. Пуритане – это английские протестанты, часть из которых иммигрировала в Америку, они же и заложили основы праздника Дня Благодарения|, but don’t just remember who they were. Bet we can lick ‘em |Готов поспорить, мы бы намяли им бока. Первое значение слова to lick – облизать|, anyhow, if they try to land again. Plymouth Rocks |это место куда пуритане впервые высадились в Америке|? Well, that sounds more familiar. Lots of us have had to come down to hens since the Turkey Trust got its work in |Многим из нас пришлось перейти на курятину, когда в деловмешалсяИндюшачийТрест. To come down – спуститься, снизойти, снизить запросы. Since – или “скакого-товремени”, или “разуж…”|. But somebody in Washington is leaking |сливает| out advance information to ‘em about these Thanksgiving proclamations.

The big city |речь о Нью-Йорке| east of the cranberry bogs |клюквенных болот| has made Thanksgiving Day an institution |не институтом. Традицией|. The last Thursday in November is the only day in the year on which it recognizes the part of America lying across the ferries |единственный день…когда он признает ту часть Америки, которая лежит по ту сторону паромных переправ. Нью-Йорк лежит на островах и на момент написания рассказа (???? год), мостов, которые бы соединяли город с континентом было мало, а паромов было много. Только потом, с распространением автомобилей, а именно фордовской Model T, паромы вышли в тираж|. It is the one day that is purely American. Yes, a day of celebration, exclusively American.

And now for the story which is to prove to you |эта история докажет вам| that we have traditions on this side of the ocean that are becoming older at a much rapider |которые становятся старее, гораздо быстрее, чем…| rate than those of England are – thanks to our git-up and enterprise |настойчивости и предприимчивости|.

Stuffy Pete |Слово stuffy имеет много значений – душный, скучный, занудный, забитый, чопорный. Стаффи Пит – это явно кличка, но какое именно значение слова stuffy имел в виду О. Генри понять сложно, поэтому в русском переводе слово не было переведено. Стаффи Пит так и остался Стаффи Питом|, took his seat on the third bench to the right as you enter Union Square from the east at the walk opposite the fountain. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had taken his seat there promptly at 1 o’clock. For every time he had done so things had happened to him – Charles Dickensy things |события в духе Чарльза Диккенса случалисьсним| that swelled |раздувало| his waistcoat above his heart, and equally |вравнойстепени| on the other side.

But to-day Stuffy Pete’s appearance at the annual trysting place |обычном месте| seemed to have been rather |казалось, что было скорее…| the result of habit than of the yearly hunger which, as the philanthropists seem to think, afflicts the poor at such extended intervals |буквально – мучают бедняков в такие большие интервалы. Лучше – по мнению филантропов, голод настигает бедных раз в году на День Благодарения (Тут О.Генри имеет в виду, что в Америке есть традиция подкармливать бедных в этот день)|.

Certainly Pete was not hungry. He had just come from a feast that had left him of his powers barely those of respiration and locomotion |он едва мог двигаться и дышать|. His eyes were like two pale gooseberries |ягоды крыжовника| firmly imbedded in a swollen and gravy-smeared mask of putty |опухший, намазанный соусом пластилин|. His breath came in short wheezes; a senatorial roll of adipose tissue denied a fashionable set to his upturned coat collar |складки депутатского жира на шее портили линию поднятого воротника пальто|. Buttons that had been sewed |были пришиты| upon his clothes by kind Salvation fingers |добрымипальцамислужителяАрмииСпасения. АрмияСпасения – однаизстарейшиххристианскихорганизаций, цельюкоторойявляетсяпомощьбедным, бездомнымит.д.| a week before flew like popcorn, strewing the earth around him |отлетали… усеивая|. Ragged |истрепанный, влохмотьях| he was, with a split shirt front open to the wishbone |разорвананагруди|; but the November breeze, carrying fine snowflakes, brought him only a grateful coolness. For Stuffy Pete was overcharged with the caloric |перенасыщенкалориями| produced by a super-bountiful dinner, beginning with oysters and ending with plum pudding, and including (it seemed to him) all the roast turkey and baked potatoes and chicken salad and squash pie and ice cream in the world. Wherefore |Вотпочему| he sat, gorged, and gazed upon the world with after-dinner contempt |спослеобеденнымпрезрением|.

The meal had been an unexpected one |Еда получилась неожиданной|. He was passing a red brick mansion near the beginning of Fifth avenue, in which lived two old ladies of ancient family and a reverence |с глубоким уважением| for traditions. They even denied the existence of New York, and believed that Thanksgiving Day was declared solely for Washington Square |квартал Нью-Йорка, где две старые леди и жили|. One of their traditional habits was to station |поставить| a servant at the postern gate |у задних ворот| with orders to admit |впустить| the first hungry wayfarer |путника| that came along after the hour of noon had struck, and banquet him to a finish |и накормить его до потери пульса|. Stuffy Pete happened |так случилось, что| to pass by on his way to the park, and the seneschals |сенешаль, он жешвейцар| gathered him in and upheld the custom of the castle.

After Stuffy Pete had gazed straight before him for ten minutes he was conscious of a desire for a more varied field of vision |к нему пришло желание расширить кругозор|. With a tremendous effort he moved his head slowly to the left. And then his eyes bulged out fearfully |его глаза выкатились от страха|, and his breath ceased, and the rough-shod ends of his short legs wriggled and rustled on the gravel |и его ступни, обутые в грубую обувь, задергались по гравию|.

For the Old Gentleman |For здесь никак не переводится| was coming across Fourth avenue toward his bench.

Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years the Old Gentleman had come there and found Stuffy Pete on his bench. That was a thing that the Old Gentleman was trying to make a tradition of. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had found Stuffy there, and had led him |отводил его| to a restaurant and watched him eat a big dinner. They do those things in England unconsciously. But this is a young country, and nine years is not so bad. The Old Gentleman was a staunch |преданный| American patriot, and considered himself a pioneer |«пионер» в смысле первооткрыватель| in American tradition. In order to become picturesque we must keep on doing one thing for a long time without ever letting it get away from us. Something like collecting the weekly dimes in industrial insurance |сбора еженедельных десятицентовых взносов в промышленном страховании|. Or cleaning the streets.

The Old Gentleman moved |двигался или приближался|, straight and stately, toward the Institution that he was rearing |он пестовал|. Truly, the annual feeding of Stuffy Pete was nothing national in its character, such as the Magna Charta |Великая Хартия| or jam for breakfast was in England. But it was a step. It was almost feudal |феодальное|. It showed, at least |по крайней мере|, that a Custom was not impossible to New Y —ahem! – America |в Нью-Й.., хм, в Америке|.

The Old Gentleman was thin and tall and sixty. He was dressed all in black, and wore the old-fashioned kind of glasses that won’t stay on your nose. His hair was whiter and thinner than it had been last year, and he seemed to make more use of his big, knobby cane |сучковатая трость| with the crooked handle.

As his established benefactor came up |приблизился| Stuffy wheezed and shuddered like some woman’s over-fat pug when a street dog bristles up at him |начал дрожать и скулить как перекормленная болонка некой женщины при приближении уличного пса|. He would have flown |конструкция would have и третья форма глагола значит, что онбычто-тосделал, нонесмог: онбыспассябегством…|, but all the skill of Santos-Dumont could not have separated him |дажесвятаясиланеоторвалабыего| from his bench. Well had the myrmidons |приспешники| of the two old ladies done their work.

“Good morning,” said the Old Gentleman. “I am glad to perceive |буквально – воспринять. Лучше – узнать| that the vicissitudes of another year have spared |превратности… пощадили| you to move in health about the beautiful world |и вы в здравии бродите по…|.For that blessing alone |так благослови…| this day of thanksgiving is well proclaimed to each of us. If you will |по правилам will здесь стоять не должно, но плевали персонажи О. Генри на правила| come with me, my man, I will provide you with a dinner that should make your physical being accord |физическое состояниевсоответствиес| with the mental.”

That is what the old Gentleman said every time. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years. The words themselves almost formed an Institution |Традицию|. Nothing could be compared with them except the Declaration of Independence. Always before |Всегда ранее| they had been music in Stuffy’s ears. But now he looked up at the Old Gentleman’s face with tearful agony in his own. The fine snow almost sizzled |вскипал| when it fell upon his perspiring brow |буквально – взмокшую бровь. Лучше – разгоряченный лоб|. But the Old Gentleman shivered |поеживался| a little and turned his back to the wind.

Stuffy had always wondered why the Old Gentleman spoke his speech rather sadly. He did not know that it was because he was wishing every time that he had a son to succeed him |хотел бы, чтобы у него был сын, чтобы продолжить Традицию|. A son who would come there after he was gone – a son who would stand proud and strong before some subsequent Stuffy |какому-нибудь следующему Стаффи|, and say: “In memory of my father.” Then it would be an Institution.

But the Old Gentleman had no relatives. He lived in rented rooms in one of the decayed |ветхих| old family brownstone mansions in one of the quiet streets east of the park. In the winter he raised fuchsias |фуксии| in a little conservatory |теплице| the size of a steamer trunk |размером с дорожный сундук. A steamer – пароход|. In the spring he walked in the Easter parade |в пасхальном шествии|. In the summer he lived at a farmhouse in the New Jersey hills, and sat in a wicker |плетеном| armchair, speaking of a butterfly, the ornithoptera amphrisius, that he hoped to find some day. In the autumn he fed Stuffy a dinner. These were the Old Gentleman’s occupations.

Stuffy Pete looked up at him for a half minute, stewing |утомленный| and helpless in his own self-pity |в жалости к самому себе|. The Old Gentleman’s eyes were bright with the giving-pleasure |в порыве жертвенности|. His face was getting more lined |появлялось больше морщин| each year, but his little black necktie was in as jaunty a bow as ever |так же элегантен|, and the linen |буквально – белье, здесь же имеется в виду сорочка| was beautiful and white, and his gray mustache was curled carefully at the ends. And then Stuffy made a noise that sounded like peas bubbling in a pot. Speech was intended; and as the Old Gentleman had heard the sounds nine times before, he rightly construed |истолковал| them into Stuffy’s old formula of acceptance.

“Thankee, sir. I’ll go with ye, and much obliged. I’m very hungry, sir.”

The coma of repletion had not prevented from entering Stuffy’s mind the conviction that he was the basis of an Institution |Прострация от переедания, не помешала… он является участником создания традиции|. His Thanksgiving appetite was not his own |ему не принадлежал|; it belonged by all the sacred rights of established custom, if not, by the actual Statute of Limitations |по официальному своду законов|, to this |его аппетит принадлежал…| kind old gentleman who bad preempted it |который первый заявил права нанего|. True, America is free; but in order to establish tradition some one must be a repetend —a repeating decimal |повторяющейсяцифройвпериодическойдроби|. The heroes are not all heroes of steel and gold. See one here that wielded |владеют| only weapons of iron, badly silvered, and tin |изплохопосеребренногожелезаиолова|.

The Old Gentleman led |вёл| his annual protege southward to the restaurant, and to the table where the feast had always occurred. They were recognized |Их узнали|.

“Here comes de |манера произносить артикль the| old guy,” said a waiter, “dat |that| blows dat same bum |бродягу| to a meal every Thanksgiving.”

The Old Gentleman sat across the table glowing like a smoked pearl at his corner-stone of future ancient Tradition |в сторону краеугольного камня – Стаффи – будущей древней традиции|. The waiters heaped |завалили| the table with holiday food – and Stuffy, with a sigh that was mistaken |со вздохом, который был ошибочно принят за…| for hunger’s expression, raised knife and fork and carved for himself a crown of imperishable bay |идиома. Русский аналог – ринулся в бой стяжать себе бессмертные лавры|.

No more valiant hero ever fought his way through the ranks |сквозь ряды| of an enemy. Turkey, chops, soups, vegetables, pies, disappeared before him as fast as they could be served. Gorged nearly to the uttermost |сытый по горло| when he entered the restaurant, the smell of food had almost caused him to lose his honor as a gentleman, but he rallied |поборол слабость| like a true knight. He saw the look of beneficent happiness on the Old Gentleman’s face – a happier look than even the fuchsias and the ornithoptera amphrisius had ever brought to it – and he had not the heart |не осмелился| to see it wane |ослабнуть|.

In an hour Stuffy leaned back |откинулся| with a battle won. “Thankee kindly, sir,” he puffed like a leaky steam pipe |пропыхтел он как дырявая паровая труба|; “thankee kindly for a hearty meal.” Then he arose heavily with glazed eyes and started toward the kitchen. A waiter turned him about like a top |крутанул его как волчок|, and pointed him toward the door. The Old Gentleman carefully counted out $1.30 in silver change, leaving three nickels |a nickel – это 5 центов| for the waiter.

They parted |расстались| as they did each year at the door, the Old Gentleman going south, Stuffy north.

Around the first corner Stuffy turned, and stood for one minute. Then he seemed to puff out his rags as an owl puffs out his feathers |казалось, что он распушил свои лохмотья, как сова пушит свои перья|, and fell to the sidewalk like a sunstricken horse.

When the ambulance came the young surgeon |хирург| and the driver cursed softly at his weight |тихо выругались по поводу веса Стаффи|. There was no smell of whiskey to justify a transfer to the patrol wagon |в полицейский участок|, so Stuffy and his two dinners went to the hospital. There they stretched him on a bed and began to test him for strange diseases, with the hope of getting a chance at some problem with the bare steel |которую можно вылечить стальным скальпелем|.

And lo! |архаичное восклицание, вроде русского “и глянь!”| an hour later another ambulance brought the Old Gentleman. And they laid him on another bed and spoke of appendicitis, for he looked good for the bill |его внешность внушала надежду на оплату счета за лечение|.

But pretty soon one of the young doctors met one of the young nurses whose eyes he liked, and stopped to chat with her about the cases.

“That nice old gentleman over there, now,” he said, “you wouldn’t think that was a case of almost starvation |истощение от голода|. Proud old family, I guess. He told me he hadn’t eaten a thing |не ел ни крошки| for three days.”



The Last Leaf

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy |улицы сошли с ума| and broken themselves into small strips called “places.” These “places” make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two |Одна улица можем пересекать себя раз или два|. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints |сборщик счетов за краски|, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route |по прохождении этого пути|, suddenly meet himself |встречает себя же| coming back, without a cent having been paid on account |безцента, оплаченногопосчету|!

So, to quaint |странный| old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling |блуждая|, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables |мезонины| and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish |оловянные кружки и жаровню| or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a “colony.”

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick |трехэтажного кирпичного дома| Sue and Johnsy had their studio. “Johnsy” was familiar for |уменьшительное от| Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d’h?te |ресторанчика| of an Eighth Street “Delmonico’s,” and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial |схожими| that the joint studio resulted.

That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about |ходил вокруг да около| the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly |этот душегуб шагал смело|, smiting |поражая| his victims by scores |кучами|, but his feet trod slowly |его ноги медленно плелись| through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown |в лабиринте узких и поросших мхом…| “places.”

Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric |галантным| old gentleman. A mite |миниатюрная| of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs |зефиры – южные ветры| was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer |едва ли была достойным соперником для дюжего старого тупицы с красными кулаками и одышкой|. But Johnsy he smote |свалил|; and she lay, scarcely |едва| moving, on her painted iron bedstead |крашеной железной кровати|, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow |движением седых косматых бровей|.

«She has one chance in – let us say, ten,” he said, as he shook down the mercury |ртуть| in his clinical thermometer. “ And that chance is for her to want to live |она должна хотеть жить|. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly |Вся наша фармакопея теряет смысл, когда люди начинают действовать в интересах гробовщика. У слова “undertaker” два значения: предприниматель и гробовщик |. Your little lady has made up her mind |to make up one’s mind – принять решение| that she’s not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind |на уме|?”

«She – she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples |Неаполитанский залив| some day.” said Sue.

«Paint? – bosh! |восклицание вроде “что за чушь?!”| Has she anything on her mind worth |стоящее| thinking twice – a man for instance?”

«A man?» said Sue, with a jew’s-harp twang in her voice |с резкостью в голосе, как у губной гармошки|. “Is a man worth |да, стоит ли мужчина…| – but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind.”

«Well, it is the weakness, then» said the doctor. «I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish |все, что в моих силах и в силах науки|. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession |начинает считать кареты в своей похоронной процессии| I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves |если вы добьетесь от нее, чтобы онаспросилакакогофасонарукавабудутноситьэтойзимой| I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten.”

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp |пока та не размокла|. Then she swaggered |храбро вошла| into Johnsy’s room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime |Рэгтайм – жанр музыки, популярный в США в начале 20 века. Считается предшественником джаза|.

Johnsy lay, scarcely





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