Three Men in a Boat — BG

CHAPTER 4

The food ques­tion – Objec­tions to paraf­fine oil as an atmos­phere – Advan­tages of cheese as a trav­el­ling com­pan­ion – A mar­ried woman deserts her home – Fur­ther pro­vi­sion for get­ting upset – I pack – Cussed­ness of tooth-brush­es – George and Har­ris pack – Awful behav­iour of Mont­moren­cy – We retire to rest.

Then we dis­cussed the food ques­tion. George said:

“Begin with break­fast.” (George is so prac­ti­cal.) “Now for break­fast we shall want a fry­ing-pan” – (Har­ris said it was indi­gestible; but we mere­ly urged him not to be an ass, and George went on) – “a tea-pot and a ket­tle, and a methy­lat­ed spir­it stove.”

“No oil,” said George, with a sig­nif­i­cant look; and Har­ris and I agreed.

We had tak­en up an oil-stove once, but “nev­er again.” It had been like liv­ing in an oil-shop that week. It oozed. I nev­er saw such a thing as paraf­fine oilis to ooze. We kept it in the nose of the boat, and, from there, it oozed down to the rud­der, impreg­nat­ing the whole boat and every­thing in it on its way, and it oozed over the riv­er, and sat­u­rat­ed the scenery and spoilt the atmos­phere. Some­times a west­er­ly oily wind blew, and at oth­er times an east­er­ly oily wind, and some­times it blew a norther­ly oily wind, and maybe a souther­ly oilywind; but whether it came from the Arc­tic snows, or was raised in the waste of the desert sands, it came alike to us laden with the fra­grance of paraf­fine oil.

And that oil oozed up and ruined the sun­set; and as for the moon­beams, they pos­i­tive­ly reeked of paraf­fine.

We tried to get away from it at Mar­low. We left the boat by the bridge, and took a walk through the town to escape it, but it fol­lowed us. The whole town was full of oil. We passed through the church-yard, and it seemed as if the peo­ple had been buried in oil. The High Street stunk of oil; we won­dered how peo­ple could live in it. And we walked miles upon miles out Birm­ing­ham way; but it was no use, the coun­try was steeped in oil.

At the end of that trip we met togeth­er at mid­night in a lone­ly field, under a blast­ed oak, and took an awful oath (we had been swear­ing for a whole week about the thing in an ordi­nary, mid­dle-class way, but this was a swell affair) – an awful oath nev­er to take paraf­fine oil with us in a boat again – except, of course, in case of sick­ness.

There­fore, in the present instance, we con­fined our­selves to methy­lat­ed spir­it. Even that is bad enough. You get methy­lat­ed pie and methy­lat­ed cake. But methy­lat­ed spir­it is more whole­some when tak­en into the sys­tem in large quan­ti­ties than paraf­fine oil.

For oth­er break­fast things, George sug­gest­ed eggs and bacon, which were easy to cook, cold meat, tea, bread and but­ter, and jam. For lunch, he said, we could have bis­cuits, cold meat, bread and but­ter, and jam – but no cheese. Cheese, like oil, makes too much of itself. It wants the whole boat to itself. It goes through the ham­per, and gives a cheesy flavour to every­thing else there. You can’t tell whether you are eat­ing apple-pie or Ger­man sausage, or straw­ber­ries and cream. It all seems cheese. There is too much odour about cheese.

I remem­ber a friend of mine, buy­ing a cou­ple of cheeses at Liv­er­pool. Splen­did cheeses they were, ripe and mel­low, and with a two hun­dred horse-pow­er scent about them that might have been war­rant­ed to car­ry three miles, and knock a man over at two hun­dred yards. I was in Liv­er­pool at the time, and my friend said that if I didn’t mind he would get me to take them back with me to Lon­don, as he should not be com­ing up for a day or two him­self, and he did not think the cheeses ought to be kept much longer.

“Oh, with plea­sure, dear boy,” I replied, “with plea­sure.”

I called for the cheeses, and took them away in a cab. It was a ram­shackle affair, dragged along by a knock-kneed, bro­ken-wind­ed som­nam­bu­list, which his own­er, in a moment of enthu­si­asm, dur­ing con­ver­sa­tion, referred to as a horse. I put the cheeses on the top, and we start­ed off at a sham­ble that would have done cred­it to the swiftest steam-roller ever built, and all went mer­ry as a funer­al bell, until we turned the cor­ner. There, the wind car­ried a whiff from the cheeses full on at to our steed. It woke him up, and, with a snort of ter­ror, he dashed off at three miles an hour. The wind still blew in his direc­tion, and before we reached the end of the street he was lay­ing him­self out at the rate of near­ly four miles an hour, leav­ing the crip­ples and stout old ladies sim­ply nowhere.

It took two porters as well as the dri­ver to hold him in at the sta­tion; and I do not think they would have done it, even then, had not one of the men had the pres­ence of mind to put a hand­ker­chief over his nose, and to light a bit of brown paper.

I took my tick­et, and marched proud­ly up the plat­form, with my cheeses, the peo­ple falling back respect­ful­ly on either side. The train was crowd­ed, and I had to get into a car­riage where there were already sev­en oth­er peo­ple. One crusty old gen­tle­man object­ed, but I got in, notwith­stand­ing; and, putting my cheeses upon the rack, squeezed down with a pleas­ant smile, and said it was a warm day.

A few moments passed, and then the old gen­tle­man began to fid­get.

“Very close in here,” he said.

“Quite oppres­sive,” said the man next him.

And then they both began sniff­ing, and, at the third sniff, they caught it right on the chest, and rose up with­out anoth­er word and went out. And then a stout lady got up, and said it was dis­grace­ful that a respectable mar­ried woman should be har­ried about in this way, and gath­ered up a bag and eight parcels and went. The remain­ing four pas­sen­gers sat on for a while, until a solemn-look­ing man in the cor­ner, who, from his dress and gen­er­al appear­ance, seemed to belong to the under­tak­er class, said it put him in mind of dead baby; and the oth­er three pas­sen­gers tried to get out of the door at the same time, and hurt them­selves.

I smiled at the black gen­tle­man, and said I thought we were going to have the car­riage to our­selves; and he laughed pleas­ant­ly, and said that some peo­ple made such a fuss over a lit­tle thing. But even he grew strange­ly depressed after we had start­ed, and so, when we reached Crewe, I asked him to come and have a drink. He accept­ed, and we forced our way into the buf­fet, where we yelled, and stamped, and waved our umbrel­las for a quar­ter of an hour; and then a young lady came, and asked us if we want­ed any­thing.

“What’s yours?” I said, turn­ing to my friend.

“I’ll have half-a-crown’s worth of brandy, neat, if you please, miss,” he respond­ed.

And he went off qui­et­ly after he had drunk it and got into anoth­er car­riage, which I thought mean.

From Crewe I had the com­part­ment to myself, though the train was crowd­ed. As we drew up at the dif­fer­ent sta­tions, the peo­ple, see­ing my emp­ty car­riage, would rush for it. “Here y’ are, Maria; come along, plen­ty of room.” “All right, Tom; we’ll get in here,” they would shout. And they would run along, car­ry­ing heavy bags, and fight round the door to get in first. And one would open the door and mount the steps, and stag­ger back into the arms of the man behind him; and they would all come and have a sniff, and then droop off and squeeze into oth­er car­riages, or pay the dif­fer­ence and go first.

From Euston, I took the cheeses down to my friend’s house. When his wife came into the room she smelt round for an instant. Then she said:

“What is it? Tell me the worst.”

I said:

“It’s cheeses. Tom bought them in Liv­er­pool, and asked me to bring them up with me.”

And I added that I hoped she under­stood that it had noth­ing to do with me; and she said that she was sure of that, but that she would speak to Tom about it when he came back.

My friend was detained in Liv­er­pool longer than he expect­ed; and, three days lat­er, as he hadn’t returned home, his wife called on me. She said:

“What did Tom say about those cheeses?”

I replied that he had direct­ed they were to be kept in a moist place, and that nobody was to touch them.

She said:

Nobody’s like­ly to touch them. Had he smelt them?”

I thought he had, and added that he seemed great­ly attached to them.

“You think he would be upset,” she queried, “if I gave a man a sov­er­eign to take them away and bury them?”

I answered that I thought he would nev­er smile again.

An idea struck her. She said:

“Do you mind keep­ing them for him? Let me send them round to you.”

“Madam,” I replied, “for myself I like the smell of cheese, and the jour­ney the oth­er day with them from Liv­er­pool I shall ever look back upon as a hap­py end­ing to a pleas­ant hol­i­day. But, in this world, we must con­sid­er oth­ers. The lady under whose roof I have the hon­our of resid­ing is a wid­ow, and, for all I know, pos­si­bly an orphan too. She has a strong, I may say an elo­quent, objec­tion to being what she terms ‘put upon.’ The pres­ence of your husband’s cheeses in her house she would, I instinc­tive­ly feel, regard as a ‘put upon’; and it shall nev­er be said that I put upon the wid­ow and the orphan.”

“Very well, then,” said my friend’s wife, ris­ing, “all I have to say is, that I shall take the chil­dren and go to an hotel until those cheeses are eat­en. I decline to live any longer in the same house with them.”

She kept her word, leav­ing the place in charge of the char­woman, who, when asked if she could stand the smell, replied, “What smell?” and who, when tak­en close to the cheeses and told to sniff hard, said she could detect a faint odour of mel­ons. It was argued from this that lit­tle injury could result to the woman from the atmos­phere, and she was left.

The hotel bill came to fif­teen guineas; and my friend, after reck­on­ing every­thing up, found that the cheeses had cost him eight-and-six­pence a pound. He said he dear­ly loved a bit of cheese, but it was beyond his means; so he deter­mined to get rid of them. He threw them into the canal; but had to fish them out again, as the barge­men com­plained. They said it made them feel quite faint. And, after that, he took them one dark night and left them in the parish mor­tu­ary. But the coro­ner dis­cov­ered them, and made a fear­ful fuss.

He said it was a plot to deprive him of his liv­ing by wak­ing up the corpses.

My friend got rid of them, at last, by tak­ing them down to a sea-side town, and bury­ing them on the beach. It gained the place quite a rep­u­ta­tion. Vis­i­tors said they had nev­er noticed before how strong the air was, and weak-chest­ed and con­sump­tive peo­ple used to throng there for years after­wards.

Fond as I am of cheese, there­fore, I hold that George was right in declin­ing to take any.

“We shan’t want any tea,” said George (Harris’s face fell at this); “but we’ll have a good round, square, slap-up meal at sev­en – din­ner, tea, and sup­per com­bined.”

Har­ris grew more cheer­ful. George sug­gest­ed meat and fruit pies, cold meat, toma­toes, fruit, and green stuff. For drink, we took some won­der­ful sticky con­coc­tion of Harris’s, which you mixed with water and called lemon­ade, plen­ty of tea, and a bot­tle of whisky, in case, as George said, we got upset.

It seemed to me that George harped too much on the get­ting-upset idea. It seemed to me the wrong spir­it to go about the trip in.

But I’m glad we took the whisky.

We didn’t take beer or wine. They are a mis­take up the riv­er. They make you feel sleepy and heavy. A glass in the evening when you are doing a mouch round the town and look­ing at the girls is all right enough; but don’t drink when the sun is blaz­ing down on your head, and you’ve got hard work to do.

We made a list of the things to be tak­en, and a pret­ty lengthy one it was, before we part­ed that evening. The next day, which was Fri­day, we got them all togeth­er, and met in the evening to pack. We got a big Glad­stone for the clothes, and a cou­ple of ham­pers for the vict­uals and the cook­ing uten­sils. We moved the table up against the win­dow, piled every­thing in a heap in the mid­dle of the floor, and sat round and looked at it.

I said I’d pack.

I rather pride myself on my pack­ing. Pack­ing is one of those many things that I feel I know more about than any oth­er per­son liv­ing. (It sur­pris­es me myself, some­times, how many of these sub­jects there are.) I impressed the fact upon George and Har­ris, and told them that they had bet­ter leave the whole mat­ter entire­ly to me. They fell into the sug­ges­tion with a readi­ness that had some­thing uncan­ny about it. George put on a pipe and spread him­self over the easy-chair, and Har­ris cocked his legs on the table and lit a cig­ar.

This was hard­ly what I intend­ed. What I had meant, of course, was, that I should boss the job, and that Har­ris and George should pot­ter about under my direc­tions, I push­ing them aside every now and then with, “Oh, you – !” “Here, let me do it.” “There you are, sim­ple enough!” – real­ly teach­ing them, as you might say. Their tak­ing it in the way they did irri­tat­ed me. There is noth­ing does irri­tate me more than see­ing oth­er peo­ple sit­ting about doing noth­ing when I’m work­ing.

I lived with a man once who used to make me mad that way. He would loll on the sofa and watch me doing things by the hour togeth­er, fol­low­ing me round the room with his eyes, wher­ev­er I went. He said it did him real good to look on at me, mess­ing about. He said it made him feel that life was not an idle dream to be gaped and yawned through, but a noble task, full of duty and stern work. He said he often won­dered now how he could have gone on before he met me, nev­er hav­ing any­body to look at while they worked.

Now, I’m not like that. I can’t sit still and see anoth­er man slav­ing and work­ing. I want to get up and super­in­tend, and walk round with my hands in my pock­ets, and tell him what to do. It is my ener­getic nature. I can’t help it.

How­ev­er, I did not say any­thing, but start­ed the pack­ing. It seemed a longer job than I had thought it was going to be; but I got the bag fin­ished at last, and I sat on it and strapped it.

“Ain’t you going to put the boots in?” said Har­ris.

And I looked round, and found I had for­got­ten them. That’s just like Har­ris. He couldn’t have said a word until I’d got the bag shut and strapped, of course. And George laughed – one of those irri­tat­ing, sense­less, chuck­le-head­ed, crack-jawed laughs of his. They do make me so wild.

I opened the bag and packed the boots in; and then, just as I was going to close it, a hor­ri­ble idea occurred to me. Had I packed my tooth-brush? I don’t know how it is, but I nev­er do know whether I’ve packed my tooth-brush.

My tooth-brush is a thing that haunts me when I’m trav­el­ling, and makes my life a mis­ery. I dream that I haven’t packed it, and wake up in a cold per­spi­ra­tion, and get out of bed and hunt for it. And, in the morn­ing, I pack it before I have used it, and have to unpack again to get it, and it is always the last thing I turn out of the bag; and then I repack and for­get it, and have to rush upstairs for it at the last moment and car­ry it to the rail­way sta­tion, wrapped up in my pock­et-hand­ker­chief.

Of course I had to turn every mor­tal thing out now, and, of course, I could not find it. I rum­maged the things up into much the same state that they must have been before the world was cre­at­ed, and when chaos reigned. Of course, I found George’s and Harris’s eigh­teen times over, but I couldn’t find my own. I put the things back one by one, and held every­thing up and shook it. Then I found it inside a boot. I repacked once more.

When I had fin­ished, George asked if the soap was in. I said I didn’t care a hang whether the soap was in or whether it wasn’t; and I slammed the bag to and strapped it, and found that I had packed my tobac­co-pouch in it, and had to re-open it. It got shut up final­ly at 10.5 p.m., and then there remained the ham­pers to do. Har­ris said that we should be want­i­ng to start in less than twelve hours’ time, and thought that he and George had bet­ter do the rest; and I agreed and sat down, and they had a go.

They began in a light-heart­ed spir­it, evi­dent­ly intend­ing to show me how to do it. I made no com­ment; I only wait­ed. When George is hanged, Har­ris will be the worst pack­er in this world; and I looked at the piles of plates and cups, and ket­tles, and bot­tles and jars, and pies, and stoves, and cakes, and toma­toes, &ampc., and felt that the thing would soon become excit­ing.

It did. They start­ed with break­ing a cup. That was the first thing they did. They did that just to show you what they could do, and to get you inter­est­ed.

Then Har­ris packed the straw­ber­ry jam on top of a toma­to and squashed it, and they had to pick out the toma­to with a tea­spoon.

And then it was George’s turn, and he trod on the but­ter. I didn’t say any­thing, but I came over and sat on the edge of the table and watched them. It irri­tat­ed them more than any­thing I could have said. I felt that. It made them ner­vous and excit­ed, and they stepped on things, and put things behind them, and then couldn’t find them when they want­ed them; and they packed the pies at the bot­tom, and put heavy things on top, and smashed the pies in.

They upset salt over every­thing, and as for the but­ter! I nev­er saw two men do more with one-and-twopence worth of but­ter in my whole life than they did. After George had got it off his slip­per, they tried to put it in the ket­tle. It wouldn’t go in, and what was in wouldn’t come out. They did scrape it out at last, and put it down on a chair, and Har­ris sat on it, and it stuck to him, and they went look­ing for it all over the room.

“I’ll take my oath I put it down on that chair,” said George, star­ing at the emp­ty seat.

“I saw you do it myself, not a minute ago,” said Har­ris.

Then they start­ed round the room again look­ing for it; and then they met again in the cen­tre, and stared at one anoth­er.

“Most extra­or­di­nary thing I ever heard of,” said George.

“So mys­te­ri­ous!” said Har­ris.

Then George got round at the back of Har­ris and saw it.

Why, here it is all the time,” he exclaimed, indig­nant­ly.

“Where?” cried Har­ris, spin­ning round.

“Stand still, can’t you!” roared George, fly­ing after him.

And they got it off, and packed it in the teapot.

Mont­moren­cy was in it all, of course. Montmorency’s ambi­tion in life, is to get in the way and be sworn at. If he can squirm in any­where where he par­tic­u­lar­ly is not want­ed, and be a per­fect nui­sance, and make peo­ple mad, and have things thrown at his head, then he feels his day has not been wast­ed.

To get some­body to stum­ble over him, and curse him steadi­ly for an hour, is his high­est aim and object; and, when he has suc­ceed­ed in accom­plish­ing this, his con­ceit becomes quite unbear­able.

He came and sat down on things, just when they were want­ed to be packed; and he laboured under the fixed belief that, when­ev­er Har­ris or George reached out their hand for any­thing, it was his cold, damp nose that they want­ed. He put his leg into the jam, and he wor­ried the tea­spoons, and he pre­tend­ed that the lemons were rats, and got into the ham­per and killed three of them before Har­ris could land him with the fry­ing-pan.

Har­ris said I encour­aged him. I didn’t encour­age him. A dog like that don’t want any encour­age­ment. It’s the nat­ur­al, orig­i­nal sin that is born in him that makes him do things like that.

The pack­ing was done at 12.50; and Har­ris sat on the big ham­per, and said he hoped noth­ing would be found bro­ken. George said that if any­thing was bro­ken it was bro­ken, which reflec­tion seemed to com­fort him. He also said he was ready for bed.

We were all ready for bed. Har­ris was to sleep with us that night, and we went upstairs.

We tossed for beds, and Har­ris had to sleep with me. He said:

“Do you pre­fer the inside or the out­side, J.?”

I said I gen­er­al­ly pre­ferred to sleep inside a bed.

Har­ris said it was old.

George said:

“What time shall I wake you fel­lows?”

Har­ris said:

“Sev­en.”

I said:

“No – six,” because I want­ed to write some let­ters.

Har­ris and I had a bit of a row over it, but at last split the dif­fer­ence, and said half-past six.

“Wake us at 6.30, George,” we said.

George made no answer, and we found, on going over, that he had been asleep for some time; so we placed the bath where he could tum­ble into it on get­ting out in the morn­ing, and went to bed our­selves.

objec­tion [əbˈdʒekʃən] n възражение, неодобрение, нехаресване, противопоставяне, протест (to, against).

paraf­fin [ˈpærəfin] n газ за лампа (само в Англия) (и paraf­fin oil).

desert [diˈzə:t] v напускам, изоставям; оставям.

pro­vi­sion [prəˈviʒən] n (предпазна) мярка.

upset [ʌpˈset] adj разтревожен, развълнуван; разстроен.

cussed­ness [ˈkʌsid­nis] n проклетия; инат, упоритост, упорство.

fry­ing-pan [ˈfrai­iŋˌpæn] n тиган.

indi­gestible [ˌindiˈdʒestəbl] adj несмилаем, мъчно смилаем.

ass [æs] n прен. магаре, глупак.

to go on ⇒ продължавам.

ket­tle [ketl] n голям метален чайник.

methy­lat­ed spir­its [ˈmeθiˌleit] денатуриран спирт.

stove [stouv] n печка.

oil [ɔil] n светилен газ.

stove [stouv] n печка.

ooze [u:z] v тека капка по капка, сълзя, капя.

rud­der [ˈrʌdə] n мор. кормило, рул.

impreg­nate [ˈim­pregˌneit] v насищам, напоявам.

sat­u­rate [ˈsætʃəre­it] v пропивам; просмуквам се в; напоявам.

spoil [spɔil] v развалям (се).

west­er­ly [ˈwest­əli] adj западен.

oily [ˈɔili] adj тук с миризма на светлинен газ

east­er­ly [ˈi:stəli] adj източен.

norther­ly [ˈnɔ:ðəli] adj северен (за вятър).

souther­ly [ˈsʌðəli] adj южен.

in the waist of the desert sands ⇒ сред пустотата на пустинните пясъци.

laden [lei­dn] adj натоварен, отрупан.

as for the… ⇒ колкото до…

moon­beam [ˈmu:nˌbi:m] n лунен лъч, сноп лунна светлина.

reek [ri:k] v воня, смърдя (of на).

to get away ⇒ измъквам се, избягвам.

stunk [stʌŋk] pt, pp от stink [stiŋk] воня, смърдя (of).

Birm­ing­ham [ˈbə:miŋəm] град Бърмигъм.

it is no use ⇒ (с ger) няма смисъл (полза) да, безполезно (безсмислено) е да.

to be steeped in ⇒ тъна в, предавам се всецяло на.

blast­ed oak ⇒ дъб, поразен от мълния, символ на смъртта.

oath [ouθ] n клетва, обет.

swear [swɛə] v кълна се, заклевам се.

swell [swel] adj арх. помпозен, надут, впечатляващ.

in the present instance ⇒ в този случай.

con­fine [kənˈ­fain] v refl. ограничавам се, придържам се (to към).

whole­some [ˈhoul­səm] adj здрав, здравословен; благотворен, полезен за здравето.

to make much of ⇒ представям (третирам) като важен.

to go though ⇒ прониквам през.

ham­per [ˈhæm­pə] n кош с капак.

Liv­er­pool [ˈlivəpu:l] Ливърпул.

splen­did [ˈsplen­did] adj великолепен, разкошен; прекрасен.

ripe [raip] adj vзрял, узрял (за плод, сирене и пр.).

mel­low [ˈmelou] adj узрял, мек, сочен; който се топи в устата (за храна).

war­rant [ˈwɔrənt] v гарантирам.

to knock over ⇒ прекатурвам, блъсвам, събарям; sl убивам, очиствам, премахвам.

at the time ⇒ навремето, по онова време, тогава.

to get s.o. else to do it ⇒ да накарам някой друг да свърши това;get [get] v карам, накарвам, убеждавам; заставям, принуждавам (със сложно допълнение).

call for ⇒ минавам да взема (някого от жилището му), забирам по пътя си.

take away ⇒ взимам, отвеждам, откарвам.

cab [kæb] n файтон; кабриолет.

ram­shackle [ˈræmˌʃækl] adj разнебитен, разклатен, порутен; нестабилен; паянтов.

affair [əˈfɛə] n разг. нещо, работа; тук оборудване, превозно средство.

drag o.s. along ⇒ влача (се).

knock-kneed [ˌnɔkˈni:d] n с обърнати навътре колене; слаб.

bro­ken-wind­ed [ˌbroukənˈwin­did] n неработоспособен, с тежко дишане, запъхтяващ се.

som­nam­bu­list [sɔmˈnæm­b­julist] n сомнамбул.

refer [riˈfə:] v отнасям, причислявам (to към).

to start off ⇒ почвам; тръгвам (си).

at a sham­ble тромаво; sham­ble [ʃæm­bl] n тромава походка.

done cred­it to ⇒ прави му чест.

steam-roller [sti:m ˈroulə] n парен валяк.

funer­al [ˈfju:nərəl] adj погребален.

bell [bel] n камбана.

to turn the cor­ner ⇒ завивам зад ъгъла.

whiff [wif] n дъх.

full onтук направо, челно.

steed [sti:d] n поет., шег. кон.

wake [weik] v будя (се), събуждам (се), пробуждам (се), разбуждам (и с up); woke pt, pp от wake.

snort [snɔ:t] n пръхтене; сумтене, пуфтене.

dash off хуквам.

to lay o.s. out ⇒ давам си труд (зор); правя всичко възможно.

at any rate ⇒ във всеки случай.

crip­ple [ˈkripl] n сакат човек, инвалид.

stout [staut] adj пълен, дебел, корпулентен.

hold in v стягам (юзда и пр.), спирам; прен. обуздавам, укротявам.

pres­ence of mind ⇒ присъствие на духа, хладнокръвие, самообладание.

brown paper ⇒ опаковъчна хартия.

proud­ly [ˈpraudli] adv горделиво, надменно.

plat­form [ˈplætˌfɔ:m] n перон.

fall back ⇒ оттеглям се, отстъпвам.

respect­ful [risˈpek­t­ful] adv почтителенf.

crowd­ed [ˈkrau­did] adj претъпкан, препълнен.

car­riage [ˈkæridʒ] n вагон; купе.

crusty [ˈkrʌsti] adj свадлив, раздразнителен, рязък; остър.

object [əbˈdʒekt] v възразявам, противопоставям се, протестирам.

get in ⇒ влизам; качвам се (на превозно средство).

notwith­stand­ing [ˌnɔtwiðˈstændiŋ] adv все пак, въпреки всичко, при все това.

rack [ræk] n полица, лавица; багажник (в жп вагон).

squeeze [skwi:z] v тъпча, натъпквам; притискам.

fid­get [ˈfidʒit] v въртя се, шавам, не ме свърта, не мога да стоя на едно място.

close [klous] adj душен, задушен, тежък, спарен, запарен.

oppres­sive [əˈpre­siv] adj потискащ, тягостен, притеснителен.

sniff [snif] v душа, помирисвам.

sniff [snif] n помирисване.

caught [kɔ:t] pt, pp от catch [kætʃ]долавям, усещам, помирисвам; улавям.

right [rait] adv право, направо.

chest [tʃest] n гръден кош; гърди.

rose[rouz] n pt от rise v ставам, надигам се, изправям се.

dis­grace­ful [dis­ˈ­gre­is­ful] adj позорен, срамен; безчестен

respectable [risˈpek­təbl] adj почтен, достоен за уважение, уважаван.

har­ry [ˈhæri] v тормозя, безпокоя, тревожа, мъча.

par­cel [ˈpa:sl] n пакет, колет.

for a while ⇒ за малко за кратко.

solemn [ˈsɔləm] adj тежък, сериозен (за вид и пр.).

under­tak­er [ˈʌndəˌteikə] n собственик на погребално бюро.

he puts me in mind of s.th ⇒ той ми напомня на нещо.

to make a fuss ⇒ вдигам шум за нищо.

Crewe [kru:] град с възлова жп гара в северозападна Англия.

to force o.&aposs way ⇒ пробивам си път.

buf­fet [ˈbufei] n бюфет, ресторант.

yell [jel] v викам, рева, крещя.

stamp [stæmp] v тропам; тъпча (с крака).

crown [craun] n ист. крона, монета от 5 шилинга; тук само half-a-crown = 2 шилинга и половина.

neat [ni:t] adj неразводнен, неразреден (за питие);

mean [mi:n] adj безчестен, подъл.

com­part­ment [kəmˈpa:tmənt] n отделение; купе (във влак).

draw up ⇒ спирам (за кола и пр.)

rush [rʌʃ] v впускам се, втурвам се, хвърлям се.

plen­ty of ⇒ room много място.

mount [maunt] v слагам, нагласям, поставям.

stag­ger [ˈstægə] v клатушкам се, залитам, олюлявам се.

sniff [snif] n подушване, помирисване.

droop [dru:p] v клюмвам, вехна, увехвам; книж. унил съм; падам духом.

Euston rail­way sta­tion [ˈjuːstən] жп гара в централен Лондон.

smelt [smelt] pt, pp от smell [smel] мириша, помирисвам, подушвам, душа.

instant [ˈin­stənt] n миг, момент.

tell me the worstфраза, изразяваща готовност за лоши новини.

to have noth­ing to do with s.b. ⇒ няма нищо общо с някого.

detain [diˈtein] v задържам.

direct [daiˈrekt] v нареждам, давам указания.

moist [mɔist] adj влажен.

Nobody’s like­ly = Nobody’s like­ly ⇒ няма вероятност някой да.

great­ly attached ⇒ дълбоко/силно привързан.

query [ˈkwiəri] v питам се, съмнявам се.

to give s.b. soverign ⇒ упълномощявам някого.

bury [ˈberi] v погребвам, заравям; заривам.

an idea struck her ⇒ осени я идея.

send round ⇒ предавам/подавам от човек на човек.

to look back upon ⇒ гледам назад; спомням си.

reside [riˈzaid] v живея, прекарвам, пребивавам.

wid­ow [ˈwidou] n вдовица.

for all I know ⇒ доколкото зная

orphan [ˈɔ:fən] n сирак, сирак, сираче.

elo­quent [ˈelək­wənt] adj красноречив, сладкодумен, убедителен

put upon ⇒ налагам се, потискам.

it shall nev­er be said никой никога няма да каже.

in charge of ⇒ на грижите на, на отговорността на.

char­woman [ˈ[tʃa:ˌwumən] n чистачка.

mel­on [ˈmelən] n пъпеш.

argue [ˈa:gju] v доказвам, показвам (че е).

injury [ˈindʒəri] n травма, поражение, вреда.

guinea [ˈgi­ni] n гвинея (стара англ. златна монета, парична единица от 21 шилинга).

reck­on [ˈrekən] v смятам, пресмятам; изчислявам.

beyond o.’s means ⇒ не е по възможностите.

to get rid of ⇒ отървавам се от.

canal [kəˈnæl] n канал.

to fish out ⇒ изваждам.

barge [ba:dʒ] n голяма украсена лодка за тържествен случай, баржа.

com­plain [kəmˈ­plein] v оплаквам се, жаля се; изказвам недоволство, недоволствам.

to feel faint ⇒ прималявам.

parish [ˈpæriʃ] n енория; община.

mor­tu­ary [ˈmɔ:;tjuəri] n морга; дом на покойниците.

coro­ner [ˈkɔrənə] n съдебен лекар.

to make a fear­full fuss ⇒ вдигам страхотен шум.

to deprive s.o. of s.th. ⇒ отнемам някому нещо.

corpse [kɔ:ps] n труп.

it gained the place quite a rep­u­ta­tion ⇒ това спечели на мястото страхотна репутация.

con­sump­tive [kənˈsʌmp­tiv] adj туберкулозен, охтичав; предразположен към туберкулоза.

throng [θrɔŋ] v тълпя се, струпвам се.

to hold ⇒ поддържам.

shan’t = shall not брит.

Harri’s face fell at this ⇒ лицето на Харис помръкна при това.

a good round ⇒ значителен.

square [skwɛə] adj правилен, точен.

slap-up [ˈslæpˌʌp] adj разг. шик, фамозен, царски.

to grow cheer­ful ⇒ ободрявам се, развеселявам се.

green stuff ⇒ зеленчуци.

con­coc­tion [kənˈkɔkʃən] n концентрат.

harp [ha:p] v прен. „опявам“, прен., разг. мърморя, повтарям непрекъснато (on, upon).

to go about ⇒ кръстосвам, скитам (прен.), разг. миткам, циркулирам, движа се по.

to do a mouch ⇒ шляя се, мотам се.

blaze [bleiz] v блестя, светя, сияя.

to get them all togeth­er ⇒ cъбрахме ги на едно/заедно.

Glad­stone (bag) [ˈɡlæd­stən] малко куфарче, отварящо се по средата, направено от твърда рамка и еднакви страни от мека материя, най-често кожа.

ham­per [ˈhæm­pə] n кош с капак.

vict­ual [vitəl] n (обикн. pl) хранителни продукти, провизии, продоволствие, храна.

uten­sil [ju:ˈtensl] n съд, прибор; принадлежност; cooking/kitchen uten­sils кухненски прибори.

heap [hi:p] n куп, купчина, камара.

rather [ˈra:ðə] adv доста, твърде; до известна степен.

to pride one­self on ⇒ гордея се с.

any oth­er per­son liv­ing ⇒ всяко друго живо същество.

to impress a fact upon ⇒ внушавам някому даден факт.

to fall into the sug­ges­tion ⇒ съгласявам се с предложението.

uncan­ny [ʌŋˈkæni] adj тайнствен; неестествен, необичаен, странен.

to put on a pipe ⇒ запалвам лула.

to spread over ⇒ разполагам се, изтягам се.

easy chair [ˈi:ziˌtʃɛə] n кресло, фотьойл.

cock [kɔk] v вирвам; навирвам, вдигам.

This was hard­ly what I intend­ed ⇒ далеч нямах това предвид.

boss [bɔs] v разг. шеф съм на; разпореждам се с.

to pot­ter about ⇒ разтакавам се.

to push aside ⇒ отстанявам.

every now and then ⇒ от време на време.

There you are, sim­ple enough! ⇒ Ето, много е лесно/просто.

to take s.th. in the a way разбирам нещо по определен начин; take [teik] v разбирам, тълкувам.

irri­tate [ˈir­iˌteit] v дразня, сърдя, ядосвам, нервирам.

loll [lɔl] v излягам се, отпускам се.

to do s.o. good ⇒ полезен съм някому.

to mess about ⇒ мотая се; разбърквам.

yawn [jɔ:n] v прозявам се.

noble [nou­bl] adj благороден.

stern work [stə:n] adj трудна (неприятна) работа

to go on ⇒ карам я.

slave [sleiv] v робувам.

super­in­tend [ˌsu:pərinˈtend] v надзиравам, наглеждам; управлявам, ръководя.

I can’t help it ⇒ не мога да се противопоставя.

strap [stræp] v връзвам, стягам с ремък.

that’s just like (s.b.) ⇒ какво друго може да се очаква от (някого)!

chuck­le-head­ed [ˈtʃʌk­lˌhe­did] adj вятърничав, отнесен, разпилян, занесен.

crack-jawed laugh (smile) ⇒ широка усмивка, която кара челюстта да прещрака.

do [du:] v наистина, направо.

occur [əˈkə:] v идва ми наум.

haunt [hɔ:nt] v често посещавам, навестявам, спохождам, наобикалям, наминавам.

per­spi­ra­tion [ˌpə:spiˈreiʃən] n пот; потене, изпотяване.

to hunt for ⇒ претърсвам, търся.

to turn out ⇒ изваждам.

mor­tal [mɔ:tl] adj (за засилване) прен. „всичко живо“.

to rum­mage up ⇒ измъквам.

reign [rein] v царя, господствам; преобладавам.

I don’t care a hang ⇒ не ми пука.

slam [slæm] v блъскам при затваряне, затръшквам

pouch [ˈpautʃ] n торбичка, кесия.

to get shut up ⇒ оттеглям се от работата.

to have a go ⇒ започвам.

intend [inˈ­tend] v възнамерявам, предвиждам, имам предвид, имам намерение, планирам.

hanged [hæŋd] pt, pp от hang [hæŋ] v обесвам; бивам обесен.

ket­tle [ketl] n голям метален чайник.

stove [stouv] n печка.

&ampc. = et cetera ⇒ и т.н.

to get one inter­est­ed ⇒ заинтересуват някого.

squash [skwɔʃ] v мачкам, смачквам (се); смазвам; скашквам (се), правя на пулп; ставам на каша.

to pick out ⇒ събирам, обирам.

trod [trɔd] pt от tread [tred] v настъпвам; стъпвам.

edge [edʒ] n ръб, край, периферия.

smash [smæʃ] v смачквам, смазвам, сгазвам.

upset [ʌpˈset] v обръщам, преобръщам, прекатурвам.

as for ⇒ а пък.

slip­per [ˈslipə] n пантоф, чехъл.

ket­tle [ketl] n голям метален чайник.

to scrape out ⇒ остъргвам.

stuck [ˈstʌk] v pt, pp от stick лепя (се), залепвам (се); прилепвам (се)

all over the room ⇒ по цялата стая.

to take an oath ⇒ заклевам се.

to put down ⇒ поставям, слагам, оставям, свалям (нещо някъде).

stare [stɛə] v гледам втренчено (вторачено).

extra­or­di­nary [iksˈtrɔ:dnəri] adj необикновен, необичаен, екстраординарен; изключителен.

why [wai] int (за изразяване на удивление).

indig­nant­ly [inˈdignənt] adv възмутено.

spin around ⇒ въртя се, обръщам се внезапно (рязко).

roar [rɔ:] v изревавам, крещя, рева.

to get in the way of ⇒ преча на, стоя на пътя на.

be sworn at може ⇒ да се закълнеш в това.

squirm [skwə:m] v гърча се, извивам се, въртя се като червей.

par­tic­u­lar­ly [pəˈtikjuləli] adv особено, специфично, специално.

nui­sance [ˈnju:səns] n досада, неприятност.

to stum­ble over ⇒ препъвам се в.

curse [kə:s] v ругая, псувам.

steadi­ly [ˈste­dili] adv постоянно.

unbear­able [ʌnˈbɛərəbl] adj непоносим.

labour [ˈleibə] v залягам, полагам усилия, старая се, стремя се.

under the fixed belief ⇒ с убеждение.

to reach out a hand ⇒ протягам ръка.

wor­ry [ˈwʌri] v хващам със зъби (за животно).

pre­tend [priˈ­tend] v преструвам се, правя се; въобразявам си.

rat [ræt] n плъх.

ham­per [ˈhæm­pə] n кош с капак; кошница с лакомства, изпратена от дома (на ученик и пр.); колет с провизии.

land [lænd] v стоварвам, нанасям (удар).

fry­ing-pan [ˈfrai­iŋˌpæn] n тиган.

reflec­tion [riˈflekʃən] n мисъл, размисъл.

com­fort [ˈkʌm­fət] v утешавам, успокоявам; облекчавам.

be ready for bed ⇒ готов за лягане.

to toss for bed ⇒ хвърлям се/мятам се в леглото.

a bit of a row ⇒ доста голям спор.

to split the dif­fer­ence ⇒ постигнахме компромисно решение.

to make no answer ⇒ не отговарям.

bath [ba:θ] n съд за течности; ваничка.

to tum­ble into ⇒ натъквам се.

to get out (of bed) ⇒ ставам.

hand­ker­chief [ˈhæŋkətʃif] n носна кърпа.

boot [bu:t] n обувка (цяла, не половинка); ботуш.

Thanks! You've already liked this