33 лучших юмористических рассказа на английском / 33 Best Humorous Short Stories. Коллектив авторов

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      ‘I am coming to that,’ said 5010, sadly. ‘I dwell on the moments passed at the club because they were the happiest of my life, and am loath to speak of what followed, but I suppose I must. It was all due to Queen Isabella that I got into trouble. Peg Woffington presented me to Queen Isabella in the supper-room, and while her majesty and I were talking, I spoke of how beautiful everything in the club was, and admired especially a half-dozen old Spanish spoons upon the side-board. When I had done this, the Queen called to Ferdinand, who was chatting with Columbus on the other side of the room, to come to her, which he did with alacrity. I was presented to the King, and then my troubles began.

      ‘“Mr. Surrennes admires our spoons, Ferdinand,” said the Queen.

      ‘The King smiled, and turning to me observed, “Sir, they are yours. Er – waiter, just do these spoons up and give them to Mr. Surrennes.”

      ‘Of course,’ said 5010, ‘I protested against this; whereupon the King looked displeased.

      ‘“It is a rule of our club, sir, as well as an old Spanish custom, for us to present to our guests anything that they may happen openly to admire. You are surely sufficiently well acquainted with the etiquette of club life to know that guests may not with propriety decline to be governed by the regulations of the club whose hospitality they are enjoying.”

      ‘“I certainly am aware of that, my dear King,” I replied, “and of course I accept the spoons with exceeding deep gratitude. My remonstrance was prompted solely by my desire to explain to you that I was unaware of any such regulation, and to assure you that when I ventured to inform your good wife that the spoons had excited my sincerest admiration, I was not hinting that it would please me greatly to be accounted their possessor.”

      ‘“Your courtly speech, sir,” returned the King, with a low bow, “is ample assurance of your sincerity, and I beg that you will put the spoons in your pocket and say no more. They are yours. Verb. sap.”

      ‘I thanked the great Spaniard and said no more, pocketing the spoons with no little exultation, because, having always been a lover of the quaint and beautiful, I was glad to possess such treasures, though I must confess to some misgivings as to the possibility of their being unreal. Shortly after this episode I looked at my watch and discovered that it was getting well on towards eleven o’clock, and I sought out Hawley for the purpose of thanking him for a delightful evening and of taking my leave. I met him in the hall talking to Euripides on the subject of the amateur stage in the United States. What they said I did not stop to hear, but offering my hand to Hawley informed him of my intention to depart.

      ‘“Well, old chap,” he said, affectionately, “I’m glad you came. It’s always a pleasure to see you, and I hope we may meet again some time soon.” And then, catching sight of my bundle, he asked, “What have you there?”

      ‘I informed him of the episode in the supper-room, and fancied I perceived a look of annoyance on his countenance.

      ‘“I didn’t want to take them, Hawley,” I said; “but Ferdinand insisted.”

      ‘“Oh, it’s all right!” returned Hawley. “Only I’m sorry! You’d better get along home with them as quickly as you can and say nothing; and, above all, don’t try to sell them.”

      ‘“But why?” I asked. “I’d much prefer to leave them here if there is any question of the propriety of my —”

      ‘Here,’ continued 5010, ‘Hawley seemed to grow impatient, for he stamped his foot angrily, and bade me go at once or there might be trouble. I proceeded to obey him, and left the house instanter, slamming the door somewhat angrily behind me. Hawley’s unceremonious way of speeding his parting guest did not seem to me to be exactly what I had a right to expect at the time. I see now what his object was, and acquit him of any intention to be rude, though I must say if I ever catch him again, I’ll wring an explanation from him for having introduced me into such bad company.

      ‘As I walked down the steps,’ said 5010, ‘the chimes of the neighboring church were clanging out the hour of eleven. I stopped on the last step to look for a possible hansom-cab, when a portly gentleman accompanied by a lady started to mount the stoop. The man eyed me narrowly for a moment, and then, sending the lady up the steps, he turned to me and said,

      ‘“What are you doing here?”

      ‘“I’ve just left the club” I answered. “It’s all right. I was Hawley Hicks’s guest. Whose ghost are you?”

      ‘“What the deuce are you talking about?” he asked, rather gruffly, much to my surprise and discomfort.

      ‘“I tried to give you a civil answer to your question,” I returned, indignantly.

      ‘“I guess you’re crazy – or a thief,” he rejoined.

      ‘“See here, friend,” I put in, rather impressively, “just remember one thing. You are talking to a gentleman, and I don’t take remarks of that sort from anybody, spook or otherwise. I don’t care if you are the ghost of the Emperor Nero, if you give me any more of your impudence I’ll dissipate you to the four quarters of the universe – see?”

      ‘Then he grabbed me and shouted for the police, and I was painfully surprised to find that instead of coping with a mysterious being from another world, I had two hundred and ten pounds of flesh and blood to handle. The populace began to gather. The million and a half of small boys of whom I have already spoken – mostly street gamins, owing to the lateness of the hour – sprang up from all about us. Hansom-cab drivers, attracted by the noise of our altercation, drew up to the sidewalk to watch developments, and then, after the usual fifteen or twenty minutes, the blue-coat emissary of justice appeared.

      ‘“Phat’s dthis?” he asked.

      ‘“I have detected this man leaving my house in a suspicious manner,” said my adversary. “I have reason to suspect him of thieving.”

      ‘“Your house!” I ejaculated, with fine scorn. “I’ve got you there; this is the house of the New York Branch of the Ghost Club. If you want it proved,” I added, turning to the policeman, “ring the bell, and ask.”

      ‘“Oi t’ink dthat’s a fair prophosition,” observed the policeman. “Is the motion siconded?”

      ‘“Oh, come now!” cried my captor. “Stop this nonsense, or I’ll report you to the department. This is my house, and has been for twenty years. I want this man searched.”

      ‘“Oi hov no warrant permithin’ me to invistigate the contints ov dthe gintlemon’s clothes,” returned the intelligent member of the force. “But av yez ‘ll take yer solemn alibi dthat yez hov rayson t’ belave the gintlemon has worked ony habeas corpush business on yure propherty, oi’ll jug dthe blag-yard.’

      ‘“I’ll be responsible,” said the alleged owner of the house. “Take him to the station.”

      ‘“I refuse to move,” I said.

      ‘“Oi’ll not carry yez,” said the policeman, “and oi’d advoise ye to furnish yure own locomotion. Av ye don’t, oi’ll use me club. Dthot’s th’ ounly waa yez ‘ll git dthe ambulanch.”

      ‘“Oh, well, if you insist,” I replied, “of course I’ll go. I have nothing to fear.”

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