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Файл:The Legacy and Other Stories (Завещание и другие рассказы). Учебное пособие для студентов бакалавров, изучающих английский язык (второй год обучения),
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1.Imistrustallhandsomemen.Thesupercialpleasuresofthis
lifecometooeasilytothem,andtheyseemtowalktheworldasthough
they themselves were personally responsible for their good looks.
Idon’tmindawomanbeingpretty.That’sdifferent.Butinaman,I’m
sorry,butsomehoworotherInditdownrightoffensive.
2.Believeme,there’snothinglikeroutineandregularityforpre
servingone’speaceofmind.
The story “Gulloping Foxley” is about a man named Perkins.
Heis describedas a“contented commuter”who isin fact obsessed
bytheroutine.Everydayhecatchesthe8.12train,takesthesameseat
bythewindow…
Rememberthatanessayshouldcontainanintroduction(inwhichyou
state the topic), a main body (presenting the viewpoints supported
byyourreasons)andaconclusion.Usethefollowing:to express opin-
ion:inmy opinion, inmyview,Istronglybelieve,the wayIsee it,
itseemstome;tolist points: intherstplace,rstofall,secondly;
to add more points: what is more, moreover,furthermore, in addi
tiontothis,besides,apartfromthis;to make contrasting points:itis
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argued that, people argue that, nevertheless, although; to conclude:
tosumup,allinall,allthingsconsidered,onthewhole,takingevery
thingintoaccount.
Hisshortstoriesareknownfortheirun
expectedendings.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roald_dahl
http://www.roalddahlfans.com
http://roalddahl.com
MrPerkins’lastphaseof thejourneyto hisofce inAustin
FriarswentthroughtheCityofLondon.
InWilliamPerkins’opinionLabourGovernmentswanttotip
the world upsidedown.
122
Herbert George Wells
ITISDOUBTFULwhetherthe was.For myownpart,
Ithinkitcametohimsuddenly.Indeed,untilhewasthirtyhewasascep
tic,anddidnotbelieveinmiraculouspowers.Andhere,sinceitisthemost
convenientplace,I mustmentionthathewasalittleman,andhadeyes
ofahotbrown,veryerectredhair,amoustachewithendsthathetwisted
up, and freckles. His name was George McWhirter Fotheringay—not
thesortofnamebyanymeanstoleadtoanyexpectationofmiracles—
andhewasclerkatGomshott’s.Hewasgreatlyassertivear
gument.Itwaswhilehewasassertingtheimpossibilityofmiraclesthathe
hadhisrstintimationofhisextraordinarypowers.Thisparticularargu
mentwasbeingheldinthebaroftheLongDragon,andToddyBeamish
wasconducting the opposition bya monotonous but effective “So you
say,”thatdroveMr.Fotheringaytotheverylimitofhispatience.
Therewerepresent,besidesthesetwo,averydustycyclist,land
lordCox, and Miss Maybridge, the perfectly respectable and rather
portlybarmaidoftheDragon.MissMaybridgewasstandingwithher
backtoMr.Fotheringay, washing glasses;theothers werewatching
him, more or less amused by the present ineffectiveness of the as
sertivemethod.GoadedbytheTorresVedrastacticsofMr.Beamish,
Mr.Fotheringaydeterminedtomakeanunusualrhetoricaleffort.
“Lookyhere,Mr.Beamish,”saidMr.Fotheringay.“Letusclearly
understandwhatamiracleis.It’ssomethingcontrariwisetothecourse
of nature done by power of Will,something what couldn’t happen
withoutbeingspeciallywilled.”
“Soyousay,”saidMr.Beamish,repulsinghim.
Mr.Fotheringayappealedtothecyclist,whohadhithertobeen
,and—givenwithahesitatingcough
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andaglanceatMr.Beamish.Thelandlordwouldexpressnoopinion,
andMr.Fotheringay,returningtoMr.Beamish,receivedtheunexpected
concessionofaqualiedassenttohisdenitionofamiracle.
“Forinstance,”said Mr.Fotheringay,greatlyencouraged. “Here
wouldbeamiracle.Thatlamp,inthenaturalcourseofnature,couldn’t
burnlikethatupsydown,couldit,Beamish?”
“You sayitcouldn’t,”saidBeamish.
“Andyou?”saidFotheringay.“Youdon’tmeantosay—eh?”
“No,”saidBeamishreluctantly.“No,itcouldn’t.”
“Very well,” saidMr.Fotheringay.“Thenhere comessomeone,
asitmightbeme,alonghere,andstandsasitmightbehere,andsays
tothatlamp,asI mightdo,collectingallmywill—Turnupsydown
withoutbreaking,andgoonburningsteady,and—Hullo!”
Itwasenoughtomakeanyonesay“Hullo!”Theimpossible,thein
credible,wasvisible tothemall.The lamphunginverted in theair,
burningquietlywith itsamepointing down.Itwas assolid, as in
disputableaseveralampwas,theprosaiccommonlampoftheLong
Dragonbar.
Mr.Fotheringay stood with an extended forenger andthe knitted
brows of one anticipating a catastrophic smash. The cyclist, who was
sitting next the lamp, and jumped across the bar. Everybody
jumped,moreorless.MissMaybridgeturnedandscreamed.Fornearly
threesecondsthelampremained.Afaintcryofmentaldistresscame
fromMr.Fotheringay.“Ican’tkeepitup,”hesaid,“anylonger.”Hestag
geredback,andtheinvertedlampsuddenlyared,fellagainstthecorner
ofthebar,bouncedaside,smashedupontheoor,andwentout.
Itwasluckyithadametalreceiver,orthewholeplacewouldhave
beeninablaze.
Mr.Coxwasthersttospeak,andhisremark,shornofneedless
excrescences,wastotheeffectthatFotheringaywasafool.Fotherin
gaywasbeyonddisputingevensofundamentalapropositionasthat!
Hewasatthethingthathadoccurred.
Thesubsequentconversationthrewabsolutelynolightonthematter
sofarasFotheringaywasconcerned;thegeneralopinionnotonlyfol
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lowedMr.Coxverycloselybutveryvehemently.Everyoneaccused
Fotheringayofasillytrick,andpresentedhimtohimselfasafoolish
destroyerofcomfortandsecurity.Hismindwasin
, he was himself inclined to agree with them, and he made
aremarkablyineffectualoppositiontotheproposalofhisdeparture.
Hewenthomeushedandheated,coatcollarcrumpled,eyessmart
ingandearsred.Hewatchedeachofthetenstreetlampsnervouslyashe
passedit.Itwasonlywhenhefoundhimselfaloneinhislittlebedroom
inChurchRowthathewasabletograppleseriouslywithhismemories
oftheoccurrence,andask,“Whatonearthhappened?”
Hehadremovedhiscoatandboots,andwassittingonthebedwith
hishandsinhispocketsrepeatingthetextofhisdefencefortheseven
teenthtime,“Ididn’twanttheconfoundedthingtoupset,”whenitoc
curredtohimthatattheprecisemomenthehadsaidthecommanding
wordshehadinadvertentlywilledthethinghesaid,andthatwhenhe
hadseenthelampintheairhehadfeltitdependedonhimtomain
tainittherewithoutbeingclearhowthiswastobedone.Hehadnot
aparticularlycomplexmind,orhemighthavestuckforatimeatthat
“inadvertentlywilled,”embracing,asitdoes,theabstrusestproblems
ofvoluntaryaction;butasitwas,theideacametohimwithaquiteac
ceptablehaziness.Andfromthat,following,asImustadmit,noclear
logicalpath,hecametothetestofexperiment.
Hepointed resolutelyto his candle and collectedhis mind,though
hefelthedidafoolishthing.“Beraisedup,”hesaid.Butinasecondthat
feelingvanished.Thecandlewasraised,hung in theaironegiddymo
ment,andasMr.Fotheringaygasped,fellwithasmashonhistoilettable,
leavinghimindarknesssavefortheexpiringglowofitswick.
ForatimeMr.Fotheringaysatinthedarkness,perfectlystill.“Itdid
happen,afterall,”hesaid.“And’owI’mtoexplainitIdon’tknow.”
Hesighedheavily,andbeganfeeling in hispocketsforamatch.He
couldndnone,andheroseandgropedaboutthetoilettable.“Iwish
Ihadamatch,”hesaid.Heresortedtohiscoat,andthere was none
there,andthenitdawneduponhimthatmiracleswerepossibleeven
withmatches.Heextendedahandandscowledatitinthedark.“Let
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therebeamatchinthathand,”hesaid.Hefeltsomelightobjectfall
acrosshispalm,andhisngerscloseduponamatch.
Afterseveraltolightthis,hediscovered it
was a safetymatch. He threw itdown, and then it occurredto him
that he might have willed it lit. He did, and perceived it burning
inthemidstofhistoilettablemat.Hecaughtituphastily,anditwent
out.His perception of possibilities enlarged, andhe felt for and re
placedthecandleinitscandlestick.“Here!Youbelit,”saidMr.Fothe
ringay,andforthwiththecandlewasaring,andhesawalittleblack
holeinthetoiletcover,withawispofsmokerisingfromit.Foratime
hestared fromthis to thelittle ameand back,and then looked up
andmethisowngazeinthelookingglass.Bythishelphecommuned
withhimselfinsilenceforatime.
“Howaboutmiraclesnow?”saidMr.Fotheringayatlast,addres
singhisreection.
ThesubsequentmeditationsofMr.Fotheringaywereofasevere
butconfuseddescription.Sofarashecouldsee,itwasacaseofpure
willingwithhim.Thenatureofhisexperiencesdisinclinedhimforany
furtherexperiments except ofthe most type. But he lifted
asheetofpaper,andturnedaglassofwaterpinkandthengreen,and
hecreated asnail, which he miraculously annihilated,and gothim
selfamiraculousnewtoothbrush.Somewheninthesmallhourshe
hadreachedthefactthathiswillpowermustbeofaparticularlyrare
andpungentquality,afactofwhichhehadcertainlyhadinklingsbe
fore,butnocertainassurance.Thescareandperplexityofhisrstdis
coverywasnowqualiedbyprideinthisevidenceofsingularityand
byvagueintimationsofadvantage.Hebecameawarethatthechurch
clockwasstriking one,and as itdid notoccurto himthathis daily
duties at Gomshott’s might be miraculously dispensed with, he re
sumedundressing,inordertogettobedwithoutfurtherdelay.Ashe
struggledtogethisshirtoverhishead,hewasstruckwithabrilliant
idea.“Letmebeinbed,”hesaid,andfoundhimselfso.“Undressed,”
hestipulated;and,ndingthesheetscold,addedhastily,“andinmy
nightshirt—no,inanicesoftwoollennightshirt.Ah!”hesaidwithim
menseenjoyment.“Andnowletmebecomfortablyasleep.”
126
Heawokeathisusualhourandwaspensiveallthroughbreakfast
time,wonderingwhetherhisovernightexperiencemightnotbeaparti
cularlyvividdream.Atlengthhismindturnedagaintocautiousexperi
ments.Forinstance,hehadthreeeggsforbreakfast; two his landlady
hadsupplied,good, but shoppy,and onewasadelicious freshgoose
egg,laid,cooked,andservedbyhisextraordinarywill.Hehurriedoff
toGomshott’sinastateofprofoundbutcarefullyconcealedexcitement,
andonlyrememberedtheshellofthethirdeggwhenhislandladyspoke
ofitthatnight.Alldayhecoulddonoworkbecauseofthisastonishing
lynewselfknowledge,butthiscausedhimnoinconvenience,because
hemadeupforitmiraculouslyinhislasttenminutes.
Asthedayworeonhisstateofmindpassed
,albeitthecircumstancesofhisdismissalfromtheLongDragon
werestilldisagreeabletorecall,andagarbledaccount of thematter
thathadreachedhiscolleaguesledtosomebadinage.Itwasevidenthe
mustbecarefulhowheliftedfrangiblearticles,butinotherwayshis
giftpromisedmoreandmoreasheturneditoverinhismind.
Heintendedamong other thingstoincrease his personalproperty
byunostentatiousactsofcreation.Hecalledintoexistenceapairofvery
splendiddiamond studs, and hastilyannihilated them againas young
Gomshottcame acrossthe countinghouseto hisdesk. He was afraid
youngGomshottmightwonderhowhehadcomebythem.Hesawquite
clearlythegiftrequiredinitsexercise,butso
farashecouldjudgethedifcultiesattendingitsmasterywouldbeno
greaterthanthosehehadalreadyfacedinthestudyofcycling.Itwasthat
analogy,perhaps,quiteasmuchasthefeelingthathewouldbeunwel
comeintheLongDragon,thatdrovehimoutaftersupperintothelane
beyondthegasworks,torehearseafewmiraclesinprivate.
There was possibly a certain want of originality in his attempts,
forapart fromhis willpower Mr.Fotheringay wasnot avery excep
tionalman.ThemiracleofMoses’rodcametohismind,butthenight
was dark and unfavourable to the proper control of large miraculous
snakes.Thenherecollectedthestoryof“Tannhauser”thathehadread
onthebackofthe Philharmonicprogramme.Thatseemedtohimsin
127
gularly attractive and harmless. He stuck his walkingstick—a very
nicePoonaPenanglawyer—intothe turfthatedgedthe footpath,and
commanded the dry wood to blossom. The air was immediately full
ofthescentofroses,andbymeansofamatchhesawforhimselfthat
this beautiful miracle was indeed accomplished. His satisfaction was
endedbyadvancing footsteps.Afraid ofapremature discoveryofhis
powers, he addressed the blossoming stick hastily: “Go back.” What
hemeantwas“Changeback;”butofcoursehewasconfused.Thestick
recededataconsiderablevelocity,andincontinentlycameacryofanger
andabadwordfromtheapproachingperson.“Whoareyouthrowing
bramblesat,youfool?”criedavoice.“Thatgotmeontheshin.”
“I’m sorry, old chap,” said Mr. Fotheringay, and then realising
theawkwardnatureoftheexplanation,caughtnervouslyathismous
tache.HesawWinch,oneofthethreeImmeringconstables,advancing.
“Whatd’yermeanbyit?”askedtheconstable.“Hullo!It’syou,is
it?ThegentthatbrokethelampattheLongDragon!”
“Idon’tmeananythingbyit,”saidMr.Fotheringay.“Nothingatall.”
“Whatd’yerdoitforthen?”
“Oh,bother!”saidMr.Fotheringay.
“Botherindeed!D’yerknowthatstickhurt?Whatd’yerdoitfor,eh?”
ForthemomentMr.Fotheringaycouldnotthinkwhathehaddone
itfor.HissilenceseemedtoirritateMr.Winch.“You’vebeenassaul
tingthepolice,youngman,thistime.That’swhatyoudone.”
“Lookhere,Mr.Winch,”saidMr.Fotheringay,annoyedandcon
fused,“I’mverysorry.Thefactis—”
“Well?”
Hecouldthinkofnowaybutthetruth.“Iwasworkingamiracle.”
Hetried,buttryashewouldhecouldn’t.
“Workinga—!’Ere,don’tyoutalkrot.Workingamiracle,indeed!
Miracle!Well,that’sdownrightfunny!Why,you’sthechapthatdon’t
believeinmiracles....Factis,thisisanotherofyoursillyconjuring
tricks—that’swhatthisis.Now,Itellyou—”
ButMr.FotheringayneverheardwhatMr.Winchwasgoingtotell
him.Herealisedhehadgivenhimselfaway,unghisvaluablesecret
128
toallthewindsofheaven.Aviolentgustofirritationswepthimtoac
tion.Heturnedontheconstableswiftlyandercely.“Here,”hesaid,
“I’vehadenoughofthis,Ihave!I’llshowyouasillyconjuringtrick,
Iwill!GotoHades!Go,now!”
Hewasalone!
Mr. Fotheringay performed no more miracles that night nor did
hetroubleto seewhathadbecomeofhisoweringstick.Hereturned
tothetown,scaredandveryquiet,andwenttohisbedroom.“Lord!”
hesaid,“it’sapowerfulgift—anextremelypowerfulgift.Ididn’thardly
meanasmuchasthat.Notreally....IwonderwhatHadesislike!”
Hesatonthebedtakingoffhisboots.Struckbyahappythought
hetransferredtheconstabletoSanFrancisco,andwithoutanymore
interferencewithnormalcausationwentsoberlytobed.Inthenighthe
dreamtoftheangerofWinch.
ThenextdayMr.Fotheringayheardtwointerestingitemsofnews.
Someonehadplantedamostbeautifulclimbingroseagainsttheelder
Mr.Gomshott’sprivatehouseintheLullaboroughRoad,andtheriver
asfarasRawling’sMillwastobedraggedforConstableWinch.
Mr.Fotheringay was abstracted and thoughtfulall thatday,and
performed no miracles except certain provisions for Winch, and
the miracle of completing his day’s work with punctual perfection
in spite of all the beeswarm of thoughts that hummed through his
mind.And the extraordinary abstraction and meekness of his man
nerwas remarkedby several people,and madea matterfor jesting.
ForthemostparthewasthinkingofWinch.
On Sunday evening he went to chapel and oddly enough,
Mr.Maydig, whotook acertain interest inoccult matters,preached
about“thingsthatarenotlawful.”Mr.Fotheringaywasnotaregular
chapelgoer,butthesystem ofassertive scepticism, towhich I have
alreadyalluded,wasnowverymuchshaken.Thetenorofthesermon
threwanentirelynewlightonthesenovelgifts,andhesuddenlyde
cidedto consult Mr.Maydig immediatelyafter the service.So soon
asthatwasdetermined,hefoundhimselfwonderingwhyhehadnot
donesobefore.
129
Mr.Maydig, a lean, excitable man with quite remarkably long
wrists and neck, was gratied at a request for a private conversa
tionfrom ayoung man whose carelessness inreligious matterswas
asubject forgeneral remarkin the town.After afew necessaryde
lays, he conducted him to the study of the Manse, which was con
tiguoustothechapel,seatedhimcomfortably,and,standinginfront
ofacheerfulre—hislegsthrewaRhodianarchofshadowontheop
positewall—requestedMr.Fotheringaytostatehisbusiness.
At rst Mr.Fotheringay was a little , and found some
difculty in opening the matter. “You will scarcely believe me,
Mr.Maydig,Iamafraid”—andsoforthforsometime.Hetriedaques
tionatlast,andaskedMr.Maydighisopinionofmiracles.
Mr.Maydigwasstillsaying“Well”inanextremelyjudicialtone,
whenMr.Fotheringay interrupted again:“You don’tbelieve, I sup
pose,thatsomecommonsortofperson—likemyself,forinstance—
asitmightbesittingherenow,mighthavesomesortoftwistinside
himthatmadehimabletodothingsbyhiswill.”
“It’spossible,”saidMr.Maydig.“Somethingofthesort,perhaps,
ispossible.”
“IfImightmakefreewithsomethinghere,IthinkImightshow
youbyasortof experiment,” saidMr.Fotheringay.“Now,take that
tobaccojaronthetable,forinstance.WhatIwanttoknowiswhether
whatIamgoingtodowithitisamiracleornot.Justhalfaminute,
Mr.Maydig,please.”
He knitted his brows, pointed to the tobaccojar and said: “Be
abowlofviolets.”
Thetobaccojardidasitwasordered.
Mr.Maydigstartedviolentlyatthechange,andstoodlookingfrom
thethaumaturgisttothebowlofowers.Hesaidnothing.Presentlyhe
venturedtoleanoverthetableandsmelltheviolets;theywerefresh
pickedandveryneones.ThenhestaredatMr.Fotheringayagain.
“Howdidyoudothat?”heasked.
Mr.Fotheringay pulled his moustache. “Just told it—and there
youare.Isthatamiracle,orisitblackart,orwhatisit?Andwhatdo
youthink’sthematterwithme?That’swhatIwanttoask.”
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