Студопедия — Hogfather 11 страница
Студопедия Главная Случайная страница Обратная связь

Разделы: Автомобили Астрономия Биология География Дом и сад Другие языки Другое Информатика История Культура Литература Логика Математика Медицина Металлургия Механика Образование Охрана труда Педагогика Политика Право Психология Религия Риторика Социология Спорт Строительство Технология Туризм Физика Философия Финансы Химия Черчение Экология Экономика Электроника

Hogfather 11 страница






'They're olives,' said Susan.

'Tough luck,' said the raven. 'They're mine now.'

'They're a kind of fruit! Or a vegetable or something!'

'You sure?' The raven swivelled one doubtful eye on the jar and the other on her.

'Yes!'

The eyes swivelled again.

'So you're an eyeball expert all of a sudden?'

'Look they're green, you stupid bird!'

'They could be very old eyeballs,' said the raven defiantly. 'Sometimes they go like that...'

SQUEAK, said the Death of Rats, who was halfway through a cheese.

'...And not so much of the stupid,' said the raven. 'Corvids are exceptionally bright with reasoning and, in the case of some forest species, tool-using abilities!'

'Oh, so you are an expert on ravens, are you?' said Susan.

'Madam, I happen to be a...'

SQUEAK, said the Death of Rats again.

They both turned. It was pointing at its grey teeth.

'The Tooth Fairy?' said Susan. 'What about her?'

SQUEAK.

`Rows of teeth,' said the oh god again. 'Like... rows, you know? What's the Tooth Fairy?'

'Oh, you see her around a lot these days,' said Susan. 'Or them, rather. Its a sort of franchise operation. You get the ladder, the moneybelt and the pliers and you're set up.'

'Pliers?'

'If she can't make change she has to take an extra tooth on account. But, look, the tooth fairies are harmless enough. I've met one or two of them. They're just working girls. They don't menace anyone.'

SQUEAK.

'I just hope Grandfather doesn't take it into his head to do their job as well. Good grief, the thought of it...'

'They collect teeth?'

'Yes. Obviously.'

'Why?'

'Why? It's their job.'

'I meant why, where do they take the teeth after they collect them?'

'I don't know! They just... well, they just take the teeth and leave the money,' said Susan. 'What sort of question is that - 'Where do they take the teeth?'?'

'I just wondered, that's all. Probably all humans know, I'm probably very silly for asking, it's probably a wellknown fact.'

Susan looked thoughtfully at the Death of Rats.

'Actually... where do they take the teeth?'

SQUEAK?

'He says search him,' said the raven. 'Maybe they sell 'em?' It pecked at another jar. 'How about these, these look nice and wrinkl...'

'Pickled walnuts,' said Susan absently. 'What do they do with the teeth? What use is there for a lot of teeth? But... what harm can a tooth fairy do?'

'Have we got time to find one and ask her?' said the oh god.

'Time isn't the problem,' said Susan.

 

There are those who believe knowledge is something that is acquired - a precious ore hacked, as it were, from the grey strata of ignorance.

There are those who believe that knowledge can only be recalled, that there was some Golden Age in the distant past when everything was known and the stones fitted together so you could hardly put a knife between them, you know, and it's obvious they had flying machines, right, because of the way the earthworks can only be seen from above, yeah? and there's this museum I read about where they found a pocket calculator under the altar of this ancient temple, you know what I'm saying? but the government hushed it up... [18]

Mustrum Ridcully believed that knowledge could be acquired by shouting at people, and was endeavouring to do so. The wizards were sitting around the Uncommon Room table, which was piled high with books.

'It is Hogswatch, Archchancellor,' said the Dean reproachfully, thumbing through an ancient volume.

'Not until midnight,' said Ridcully. 'Sortin' this out will give you fellows an appetite for your dinner.'

'I think I might have something, Archchancellor,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. 'This is Woddeley's Basic Gods. There's some stuff here about lares and penates that seems to it the bill.'

'Lares and penates? What were they when they were at home?' said Ridcully.

'Hahaha,' said the Chair.

'What?' said Ridcully.

'I thought you were making a rather good joke, Archchancellor,' said the Chair.

'Was I? I didn't mean to,' said Ridcully.

'Nothing new there,' said the Dean, under his breath.

'What was that, Dean?'

'Nothing, Archchancellor.'

'I thought you made the reference "at home" because they are, in fact, household gods. Or were, rather. They seemed to have faded away long ago. They were... little spirits of the house, like, for example...'

Three of the other wizards, thinking quite fast for wizards, clapped their hands over his mouth.

'Careful!' said Ridcully. 'Careless talk creates lives! That's why we've got a big fat God of Indigestion being ill in the privy. By the way, where's the Bursar?'

'He was in the privy, Archchancellor,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

'What, when the...?'

'Yes, Archchancellor.'

'Oh, well, Im sure he'll be all right,' said Ridcully, in the matter-of-fact voice of someone contemplating something nasty that was happening to someone else out of earshot. 'But we don't want any more of these... what're they, Chair?'

'Lares and penates, Archchancellor, but I wasn't suggesting...'

'Seems dear to me. Something's gone wrong and these little devils are coming back. All we have to do is find out what's gone wrong and put it right.'

'Oh, well, I'm glad that's all sorted out,' said the Dean.

'Household gods,' said Ridcully. 'That's what they are, Chair?' He opened the drawer in his hat and took out his pipe.

'Yes, Archchancellor. It says here they used to be the... local spirits, I suppose. They saw to it that the bread rose and the butter churned properly.'

'Did they eat pencils? What was their attitude in the socks department?'

'This was back in the time of the First Empire,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. 'Sandals and togas and so on.'

'Ah. Not noticeably socked?'

'Not excessively so, no. And it was nine hundred years before Osric Pencillium first discovered, in the graphiterich sands of the remote island of Sumtri, the small bush which, by dint of careful cultivation, he induced to produce the long...'

'Yes, we can all see you've got the encyclopaedia open under the table, Chair,' said Ridcully. 'But I daresay things have changed a bit. Moved with the times. Bound to have been a few developments. Once they looked after the bread rising, now we have things that eat pencils and socks and see to it that you can never find a dean towel when you want one...'

There was a distant tinkling.

He stopped.

'I just said that, didn't P' he said.

The wizards nodded glumly.

'And this is the first time anyone's mentioned it?'

The wizards nodded again.

'Well, dammit, it's amazing, you can never find a dean towel when---'

There was a rising wheeee noise. A towel went by at shoulder height. There was a suggestion of many small wings.

'That was mine,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes reproachfully. The towel disappeared in the direction of the Great Hall.

'Towel Wasps,' said the Dean. 'Well done, Archchancellor.'

'Well, I mean, dammit, it's human nature, isn't it?' said Ridcully hotly. 'Things go wrong, things get lost, it's natural to invent little creatures that - all right, all right, I'll be careful. I'm just saying man is naturally a mythopoeic creature.'

'What's that mean?' said the Senior Wrangler. 'Means we make things up as we go along,' said the Dean, not looking up.

'Um... excuse me, gentlemen,' said Ponder Stibbons, who had been scribbling thoughtfully at the end of the table. 'Are we suggesting that things are coming back? Do we think that's a viable hypothesis?'

The wizards looked at one another around the table.

'Definitely viable.'

`Viable, right enough.' - 'Yes, that's the stuff to give the troops.'

'What is? Whats the stuff to give the troops?'

'Well... tinned rations? Decent weapons, good boots... that sort of thing.'

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'Don't ask me. He was the one who started talking about giving stuff to the troops.'

'Will you lot shut up? No one's giving anything to the troops!'

'Oh, shouldn't they have something? It's Hogswatch, after all.'

'Look it was just a figure of speech, all right? I just meant I was. fully in agreement. It's just colourful language. Good grief, you surely can't think I'm actually suggesting giving stuff to the troops, at Hogswatch or any other time!'

'You weren't?'

'No!"

'That's a bit mean, isn't it?'

Ponder just let it happen. It's because their minds are so often involved with deep and problematic matters, he told himself, that their mouths are allowed to wander around making a nuisance of themselves.

'I don't hold with using that thinking machine,' said the Dean. 'I've said this before. It's meddling with the Cult. The occult has always been good enough for me, thank you very much.'

'On the other hand it's the only person round here who can think straight and it does what it's told,' said Ridcully.

 

The sleigh roared through the snow, leaving rolling trails in the sky.

'Oh, what fun,' muttered Albert, hanging on tightly.

The runners hit a roof near the University and the pigs trotted to a halt.

Death looked at the hourglass again.

ODD, he said.

'It's a scythe job, then?' said Albert. 'You won't be wanting the false beard and the jolly laugh?' He looked around, and puzzlement replaced sarcasm. 'Hey... how could anyone be dead up here?

Someone was. A corpse lay in the snow.

It was dear that the man had only just died. Albert squinted up at the sky.

'There's nowhere to fall from and there's no footprints in the snow,' he said, as Death swung his scythe. 'So where did he come from? Looks like someone's personal guard. Been stabbed to death. Nasty knife wound there, see?'

'It's not good,' agreed the spirit of the man, looking down at himself.

Then he stared from himself to Albert to Death and his phantom expression went from shock to concern.

'They got the teeth! All of them! They just walked in... and... they... no, wait...

He faded and was gone.

'Well, what was that all about?' said Albert.

I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS.

'See that badge on his shirt? Looks like a drawing of a tooth.'

YES. IT DOES.

'Where's that come from?'

A PLACE I CANNOT GO.

Albert looked down at the mysterious corpse and then back up at Deaths impassive skull.

'I keep thinking it was a funny thing, us bumping into your grand-daughter like that,' he said.

YES.

Albert put his head on one side. 'Given the large number of chimneys and kids in the world, ekcetra.'

INDEED...

'Amazing coincidence, really.'

IT JUST GOES TO SHOW.

'Hard to believe, you might say.'

LIFE CERTAINLY SPRINGS A FEW SURPRISES.

'Not just life, I reckon,' said Albert. 'And she got real worked up, didn't she? Flew right off the ole handle. Wouldn't be surprised if she started asking questions.'

THAT'S PEOPLE FOR YOU.

'But Rat is hanging around, ain't he? He'll probably keep an eye socket on her. Guide her path, prob'ly.'

HE IS A LITTLE SCAMP, ISN'T HE?

Albert knew he couldn't win. Death had the ultimate poker face.

I'M SURE SHE'LL ACT SENSIBLY.

'Oh, yeah,' said Albert, as they walked back to the sleigh. 'It runs in the family, acting sensibly.'

 

Like many barmen, Igor kept a club under the bar to deal with those little upsets that occurred around closing time, although in fact Biers never closed and no one could ever remember not seeing Igor behind the bar. Nevertheless, things sometimes got out of hand. Or paw. Or talon.

Igor's weapon of choice was a little different. It was tipped with silver (for werewolves), hung with garlic (for vampires) and wrapped around with a strip of blanket (for bogeymen). For everyone else the fact that it was two feet of solid bog-oak usually sufficed.

He'd been watching the window. The frost was creeping across it. For some reason the creeping fingers were forming into a pattern of three little dogs looking out of a boot.

Then someone had tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, club already in his hand, and relaxed.

'Oh... it's you, miss. I didn't hear the door.'

There hadn't been the door. Susan was in a hurry.

'Have you seen Violet lately, Igor?'

'The tooth girl?' Igor's one eyebrow writhed in concentration. 'Nah, haven't seen her for a week or two.`

The eyebrow furrowed into a V of annoyance as he spotted the raven, which tried to shuffle behind a halfempty display card of beer nuts.

'You can get that out of here, miss,' he said. 'You know the rule 'bout pets and familiars. If it can't turn back into human on demand, it's out.'

'Yeah, well, some of us have more brain cells than fingers,' muttered a voice from behind the beer nuts.

'Where does she live?'

'Now, miss, you know I never answers questions like that... '

'WHERE DOES SHE LIVE, IGOR?'

'Shamlegger Street, next to the picture framers,' said Igor automatically. The eyebrow knotted in anger as he realized what he'd said.

'Now, miss, you know the rules! I don't get bitten, I don't get me froat torn out and no one hides behind me door! And you don't try your granddad's voice on me! I could ban you for messin' me about like that!'

'Sorry, it's important,' said Susan. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that the raven had crept on to the shelves and was pecking the top off a jar.

'Yeah, well, suppose one of the vampires decides it's important he's missed his tea?' grumbled Igor, putting the club away.

There was a plink from the direction of thee pickled egg jar. Susan tried hard not to look.

' Can we go?' said the oh god. 'All this alcohol makes me nervous.'

Susan nodded and hurried out.

Igor grunted. Then he went back to watching the frost, because Igor never demanded much out of life. After a while he heard a muffled voice say:

'I 'ot 'un! I 'ot 'un!'

It was indistinct because the raven had speared a pickled egg with its beak.

Igor sighed, and picked up his club. And it would have gone very hard for the raven if the Death of Rats hadn't chosen that moment to bite Igor on the ear.

 

DOWN THERE, said Death.

The reins were hauled so sharply so quickly that the hogs ended up facing the other way.

Albert fought his way out of a drift of teddy bears, where he'd been dozing.

'What's up? What's up? Did we hit something?' he said.

Death pointed downwards. An endless white snowfield lay below, only the occasional glow of a window candle or a half-covered hut indicating the presence on this world of brief mortality.

Albert squinted, and then saw what Death had spotted.

' 's some old bugger trudging through the snow,' he said. 'Been gathering wood, by the look of it. A bad night to be out,' he said. 'And I'm out in it too, come to that. Look, master, I'm sure you've done enough now to make sure...'

SOMETHING'S HAPPENING DOWN THERE. HO. HO. HO.

'Look, he's all right,' said Albert, hanging on as the sleigh tumbled downwards. There was a brief wedge of light below as the wood-gatherer opened the door of a snow-drifted hovel. 'See, over there, there's a couple of blokes catching him up, look they're weighed down with parcels and stuff, see? He's going to have a decent Hogswatch after all, no problem there. Now can we go...'

Death's glowing eye sockets took in the scene in minute detail.

IT'S WRONG.

'Oh, no... here we go again.'

 

The oh god hesitated.

'What do you mean, you can't walk through the door?' said Susan. 'You walked through the door in the bar.'

'That was different. I have certain god-like powers in the presence of alcohol. Anyway, we've knocked and she hasn't answered and whatever happened to Mr Manners?'

Susan shrugged, and walked through the cheap woodwork. She knew she probably shouldn't. Every time she did something like this she used up a certain amount of, well, normal. And sooner or later she'd forget what doorknobs were for, just like Grandfather.

Come to think of it, he'd never found out what doorknobs were for.

She opened the door from the inside. The oh god stepped in and looked around. This did not take long. It was not a large room. It had been subdivided from a room that itself hadn't been all that big to start with.

'This is where the Tooth fairy lives?' Bilious said. 'It's a bit... poky, isn't it? Stuff all over the floor... What're these things hanging from this line?'

'They're... women's clothes,' said Susan, rummaging through the paperwork on a small rickety table.

'They're not very big,' said the oh god. 'And a bit thin...'

'Tell me,' said Susan, without looking up. 'These memories you arrived here with... They weren't very complicated, were they...? Ah...'

He looked over her shoulder as she opened a small red notebook.

'I've only talked to Violet a few times,' she said. 'I think she delivers the teeth somewhere and gets a percentage of the money. It's not a highly paid line of work. You know, they say you can Earn $$$ in Your Spare Time but she says really she could earn more money waiting on tables - All, this looks right

'What's that?'

'She said she gets given the names every week.'

'What, of the children where going to lose teeth?'

'Yes. Names and addresses,' said Susan, flicking through the pages.

'That doesn't sound very likely.'

`Pardon me, but are you the God of Hangovers? Oh, look here's Twyla's tooth last month.' She smiled at the neat grey writing. 'She practically hammered it out because she needed the half-dollar.'

'Do you like children?' said the oh god.

She gave him a look. 'Not raw,' she said. `Other people's are OK. Hold on...'

She flicked some pages back and forth.

'There's just blank days,' she said. 'Look, the last few days, all unticked. No names. But if you go back a week or two, look they're all properly marked off and the money added up at the bottom of the page, see? And... this can't be right, can it?'

There were only five names entered on the first unticked night, for the previous week. Most children instinctively knew when to push their luck and only the greedy or dentally improvident called out the Tooth Fairy around Hogswatch.

'Read the names,' said Susan.

'William Wittles, a.k.a. Willy (home), Tosser (school),

2nd flr bck bdrm, 68 Kicklebury Street;

Sophie Langtree, a.k.a. Daddy's Princess, attic bdrm,

5 The Hippo;

The Hon. Jeffrey Bibbleton, a.k.a. Trouble in Trousers

(home), Foureyes (school), 1st fir bck, Scrote

Manor, Park Lane...'

He stopped. 'I say, this is a bit intrusive, isn't it?'

' It's a whole new world,' said Susan. 'You haven't got there yet. Keep going.'

'Nuhakme Icta, a.k.a. Little Jewel, basement, The Laughing Falafel, Klatchistan Take-Away and All

Nite Grocery, cnr. Soake and Dimwell;

Reginald Lilywhite, a.k.a. Banjo, The Park Lane Bully,

Have You Seen This Man?, The Goose Gate

Grabber, The Nap Hill Lurker, Rm 17, YMPA.

'YMPA?'

'It's what we generally call the Young-Men's-Reformed-Cultists-of-the-Ichor-God-Bel-Shamharoth-Association,' said Susan.

'Does that sound to you like someone who'd expect a visit from a tooth fairy?'

'No.'

'Me neither. He sounds like someone who'd expect a visit from the Watch.'

Susan looked around. It really was a crummy room, the sort rented by someone who probably took it never intending to stay Iong, the sort where walking across the floor in the middle of the night would be accompanied by the crack of cockroaches in a death flamenco. It was amazing how many people spent their whole fives in places where they never intended to stay.

Cheap, narrow bed, crumbling plaster, tiny window

She opened the window and fished around below the ledge, and felt satisfied when her questing fingers dosed on a piece of string which was attached to an oilcloth bag. She hauled it in.

'What's that?' said the oh god, as she opened it on the table.

'Oh, you see them a lot,' said Susan, taking out some packages wrapped in second-hand waxed paper. 'You live alone, mice and roaches eat everything, there's nowhere to store food - but outside the window it's cold and safe. More or less safe. It's an old trick. Now... look at this. Leathery bacon, a green loaf and a bit of cheese you could shave. She hasn't been back home for some time, believe me.'

'Oh dear. What now?'

'Where would she take the teeth?' said Susan, to the world in general but mainly to herself. 'What the hell does the Tooth Fairy do with...'

There was a knock at the door. Susan opened it.

Outside was a small bald man in a long brown coat. He was holding a clipboard and blinked nervously at the sight of her.

'Er...' he began.

'Can I help you?' said Susan.

'Er, I saw the light, see. I thought Violet was in,' said the little man. He twiddled the pencil that was attached to his clipboard by a piece of string. 'Only she's a bit behind with the teeth and there's a bit of money owing and Ernie's cart ain't come back and it's got to go in my report and I come round in case... in case she was W or something, it not being nice being alone and ill at Hogswatch...'

'She's not here,' said Susan.

The man gave her a worried look and shook his head sadly.

'There's nearly thirteen dollars in pillow money, see. I'll have to report it.'

'Who to?'

'It has to go higher up, see. I just hope it's not going to be like that business in Quirm where the girl started robbing houses. We never heard the end of that one...'

'Report to who?'

'And there's the ladder and the pliers,' the man went on, in a litany against a world that had no understanding of what it meant to have to fill in an AF17 report in triplicate. 'How can I keep track of stocktaking if people go around taking stock?' He shook his head. 'I dunno, they get the job, they think it's all nice sunny nights, they get a bit of sharp weather and suddenly it's goodbye Charlie I'm off to be a waitress in the warm. And then there's Emie. I know him. It's a nip to keep out the cold, and then another one to keep it company, and then a third in case the other two get lost... It's all going to have to go down in my report, you know, and who's going to get the blame? M tell you...'

'It's going to be you, isn't it?' said Susan. She was almost hypnotized. The man even had a fringe of worried hair and a small, worried moustache. And the voice suggested exactly that here was a man who, at the end of the world, would worry that it would be blamed on him.

'That's right,' he said, but in a slightly grudging voice. He was not about to allow a bit of understanding to lighten his day. 'And the girls all go on about the job but I tell them they've got it easy, it's just basic'ly ladder work, they don't have to spend their evenings knee-deep in paper and making shortfalls good out of their own money, I might add...'

'You employ the tooth fairies?' said Susan quickly. The oh god was still vertical but his eyes had glazed over.

The little man preened slightly. 'Sort of,' he said. 'Basic'Iy I run Bulk Collection and Despatch...'

'Where to?'

He stared at her. Sharp, direct questions weren't his forte.

'I just sees to it they gets on the cart,' he mumbled. 'When they're on the cart and Ernie's signed the CV19 for 'em, that's it done and finished, only like I said he ain't turned up this week and...'

'A whole cart for a handful of teeth?'

'Well, there's the food for the guards, and...'

'ere, who are you, anyway? What're you doing here?'

Susan straightened up. 'I don't have to put up with this,' she said sweetly, to no one in particular. She leaned forward again.

WHAT CART ARE WE TALKING ABOUT HERE, CHARLIE?' The oh god jolted away. The man m the brown coat shot backwards and splayed against the corridor wall as Susan advanced.

'Comes Tuesdays,' he panted. "ere, what...'

' AND WHERE DOES IT GO?'

'Dunno! Like I said, when he's...'

'Signed the GV19 for them it's you done and finished,' said Susan, in her normal voice. 'Yes. You said. What's Violet's full name? She never mentioned it.'

The man hesitated.

' I SAID...'

'Violet Bottler!'

'Thank you.'

'An' Emie's gorn too,' said Charlie, continuing more or less on auto-pilot. 'I call that suspicious. I mean, he's got a wife and everything. Won't be the first man to get his head turned by thirteen dollars and a pretty ankle and, o' course, no one thinks about muggins who has to carry the can, I mean, supposing we was all to get it in our heads to run off with young wimmin?'

He gave Susan the stem look of one who, if it was not for the fact that the world needed him, would even now be tiring of painting naked young ladies on some tropical island somewhere.

' What happens to the teeth?' said Susan.

He blinked at her. A bully, thought Susan. A very small, weak, very dull bully, who doesn't manage any real bullying because there's hardly anyone smaller and weaker than him, so he just makes everyone's lives just that little bit more difficult...

'What sort of question is that?' he managed, in the face of her stare.

'You never wondered?' said Susan, and added to herself, I didn't. Did anyone?

'Well, 's not my job, I just-'

'Oh, yes. You said,' said Susan. 'Thank you. You've been very helpful. Thank you very much.'

The man stared at her, and then turned and ran down the stairs.

'Drat,' said Susan.

'That's a very unusual swearword,' said the oh god nervously.

'It's so easy,' said Susan. 'If I want to, I can find anybody. It's a family trait.'

'Oh. Good.'

'No. Have you any idea how hard it is to be normal? The things you have to remember? How to go to sleep? How to forget things? What doorknobs are for?'

Why ask him, she thought, as she looked at his shocked face. All that's normal for him is remembering to throw up what someone else drank.

'Oh, come on,' she said, and hurried towards the stairs.

It was so easy to slip into immortality, to ride the horse, to know everything. And every time you did, it brought closer the day when you could never get off and never forget.

Death was hereditary.

You got it from your ancestors.

'Where are we going now?' said the oh god.

'Down to the YMPA,' said Susan.

 

The old man in the hovel looked uncertainly at the feast spread in front of him. He sat on his stool as curled up on himself as a spider in a flame.

'I'd got a bit of a mess of beans cooking,' he mumbled, looking at his visitors through filmy eyes.

'Good heavens, you can't eat beans at Hogswatch,', said the king, smiling hugely. 'That's terribly unlucky, eating beans at Hogswatch. My word, yes!'

'Di'nt know that,' the old man said, looking down desperately at his lap.

'We've brought you this magnificent spread. Don't you think so?'

'I bet you're incredibly grateful for it, too,' said the page, sharply.

'Yes, well, o' course, it's very kind of you gennelmen,' said the old man, in a voice the size of a mouse. He blinked, uncertain of what to do next.

'The turkey's hardly been touched, still plenty of meat on it,' said the king. 'And do have some

of this cracking good widgeon stuffed with swan's liver.'

'...only I'm partial to a bowl of beans and I've never been beholden to no one nor nobody,' the old man said, still staring at his lap.

'Good heavens, man, you don't need to worry about that,' said the king heartily. 'It's Hogswatch! I was only just now looking out of the window and I saw you plodding through the snow and I said to young Jermain here, I said, `Who's that chappie?" and he said, "Oh, he's some peasant fellow who lives up by the forest," and I said, "Well, I couldn't eat another thing and it's Hogswatch, after all," and so we just bundled everything up and here we are!'

'And I expect you're pathetically thankful,' said the page. 'I expect we've brought a ray of light into your dark tunnel of a life, hmm?'

'...yes, well, o' course, only I'd been savin' 'em for weeks, see, and there's some bakin' potatoes under the fire, I found 'em in the cellar 'n' the mice'd hardly touched 'em.' The old man never raised his eyes from knee level. 'W our dad brought me up never to ask for...'







Дата добавления: 2015-09-04; просмотров: 245. Нарушение авторских прав; Мы поможем в написании вашей работы!



Обзор компонентов Multisim Компоненты – это основа любой схемы, это все элементы, из которых она состоит. Multisim оперирует с двумя категориями...

Композиция из абстрактных геометрических фигур Данная композиция состоит из линий, штриховки, абстрактных геометрических форм...

Важнейшие способы обработки и анализа рядов динамики Не во всех случаях эмпирические данные рядов динамики позволяют определить тенденцию изменения явления во времени...

ТЕОРЕТИЧЕСКАЯ МЕХАНИКА Статика является частью теоретической механики, изучающей условия, при ко­торых тело находится под действием заданной системы сил...

В теории государства и права выделяют два пути возникновения государства: восточный и западный Восточный путь возникновения государства представляет собой плавный переход, перерастание первобытного общества в государство...

Закон Гука при растяжении и сжатии   Напряжения и деформации при растяжении и сжатии связаны между собой зависимостью, которая называется законом Гука, по имени установившего этот закон английского физика Роберта Гука в 1678 году...

Характерные черты официально-делового стиля Наиболее характерными чертами официально-делового стиля являются: • лаконичность...

Плейотропное действие генов. Примеры. Плейотропное действие генов - это зависимость нескольких признаков от одного гена, то есть множественное действие одного гена...

Методика обучения письму и письменной речи на иностранном языке в средней школе. Различают письмо и письменную речь. Письмо – объект овладения графической и орфографической системами иностранного языка для фиксации языкового и речевого материала...

Классификация холодных блюд и закусок. Урок №2 Тема: Холодные блюда и закуски. Значение холодных блюд и закусок. Классификация холодных блюд и закусок. Кулинарная обработка продуктов...

Studopedia.info - Студопедия - 2014-2024 год . (0.013 сек.) русская версия | украинская версия