е.
Книга адресована всем, кто желает усовершенствовать навыки чтения и перевода, расширить словарный запас или просто получить удовольствие от чтения на английском языке.
Рассказы подверглись незначительному сокращению и адаптации.
Несколько слов об авторе (из Википедии).
Альфред Дэймон Раньон (4 октября 1880 – 10 декабря 1946) американский газетчик и автор рассказов. Наиболее известен своими рассказами, прославляющими мир Бродвея в Нью–Йорке, выросшего из эпохи сухого закона Википедия.
Он сочинял юмористические и сентиментальные рассказы об игроках, дельцах, актерах и гангстерах.
Его характерный разговорный стиль известен как смесь формальной речи и красочного сленга, почти всегда в настоящем времени и всегда лишенный сокращений.
A Piece of Pie*
(4938 words)
In Boston, there is a place where you can get a nice broiled lobster. One evening a character by the name of Horse Thief and me are in there enjoying our meals.
This Horse Thief is called Horsey for short, and not because he ever steals a horse but because everyone from coast to coast knows that he may steal one if the opportunity comes.
Personally, I consider Horsey a very fine character, because anytime he is willing to share his good fortune.
Well, at a table next to us are four or five characters that all seem to be well–dressed, and stout–set, and red–faced, and prosperous–looking, and who all speak with the true Boston accent. Such characters are bound to be politicians, retired cops, or contractors, because Boston is really quite infested with characters of this nature.
I am paying no attention to them, because they are drinking local ale, and talking aloud, and I definitely know that when a Boston character is engaged in aleing himself up, it is a good idea to let him alone, because the best you can get out of him is maybe a boff on the beezer. But Horsey is very much interested in their conversation, and finally I see what is attracting his attention, when one of the characters speaks as follows:
"Well," he says, "I am willing to bet ten thousand dollars that he can outeat anybody in the United States any time."
Now at this, Horsey gets right up and steps over to the table and bows and smiles in a friendly way on one and all, and says:
"Gentlemen," he says, "pardon the intrusion, but," he says, "do I understand you are speaking of a great eater who resides in your fair city?"
Well, these Boston characters all gaze at Horsey in such a hostile manner that I am expecting any one of them to get up and request him to let them miss him, but he keeps on bowing and smiling, and they can see that he is a gentleman, and finally one of them says:
"Yes," he says, "we are speaking of a character by the name of Joel Duffle. He is without doubt the greatest eater alive. He just wins a unique wager. He bets a character from Bangor, Me., that he can eat a whole window display of oysters in this very restaurant, and he not only eats all the oysters but he then wishes to wager that he can also eat the shells, but, it seems that the character from Bangor, unfortunately taps out on the first proposition and has nothing with which to bet on the second."
"Very interesting," Horsey says. "Very interesting, if true, but," he says, "unless my ears deceive me, I hear one of you state that he is willing to wager ten thousand dollars on this eater of yours against anybody in the United States."
"Your ears are perfect," another of the Boston characters says. "I state it, although, I admit it is a sort of figure of speech. But I state it all right," he says.
"Well," Horsey says, "I do not have a tenner on me at the moment, but," he says, "I have here a thousand dollars to put up as a forfeit that I can produce a character who will outeat your party for ten thousand, and as much more as you care to put up."
And with this, Horsey takes out a bundle of coarse notes and tosses it on the table, and right away one of the Boston characters, whose name turns out to be Carroll, slaps his hand on the money and says: "Bet."
Well, now this is prompt action to be sure, and if there is one thing I admire more than anything else, it is action, and I can see that these are characters of true sporting instincts and I start wondering where I can raise a few dibs to take a piece of Horsey's proposition, because of course I know that he has nobody in mind to do the eating for his side but Nicely–Nicely Jones.
And knowing Nicely–Nicely Jones, I am prepared to wager all the money I can possibly raise that he can outeat anything that walks on two legs. In fact, I will take a chance on Nicely–Nicely against anything on four legs, except maybe an elephant, and at that he may give the elephant a photo finish.
I do not say that Nicely–Nicely is the greatest eater in all history, but what I do say is he belongs up there as a contender. Nicely–Nicely eats under the rules of modern civilization, which require that an eater should use a knife and fork, or anyway a knife, while in the old days eating with the hands was a popular custom and was much faster.
Well, now that the match is agreed upon, naturally Horsey and the Boston characters begin discussing where it is to take place, and one of the Boston characters suggests a neutral ground, but Horsey holds out for New York, and it seems that Boston characters are always ready to visit New York, so he does not meet with any great opposition on this point.
They all agree on a date four weeks later so as to give the principals plenty of time to get ready, although Horsey and I know that this is really unnecessary as far as Nicely–Nicely is concerned, because one thing about him is he is always in condition to eat.
This Nicely–Nicely Jones is a character who is maybe five feet eight inches tall, and about five feet nine inches wide, and when he is in good shape he weighs more than two hundred and eighty–three pounds. He is a horse player by trade, and eating is really just a hobby, but he is undoubtedly a wonderful eater even when he is not hungry.
Well, as soon as Horsey and I return to New York, we go to Mindy's restaurant on Broadway and tell about the bet Horsey makes in Boston, and right away so many citizens, including Mindy himself, wish to take a piece of the proposition that it is oversubscribed by a large sum in no time.
Then Mindy remarks that he does not see Nicely–Nicely Jones for a month, and then Willie the Worrier remembers that the last time he looks for Nicely–Nicely, he leaves a forwarding address in care of somebody by the name of Slocum.
So we go to this address, which turns out to be a five–story walk–up apartment, and a card downstairs shows that Slocum lives on the top floor. It takes Horsey and me ten minutes to walk up the five flights as we are by no means accustomed to exercise of this nature, and when we finally reach a door marked Slocum, we sit down on the top step and rest a while.
Then I ring the bell at this door marked Slocum, and who appears but a tall young Judy with black hair who is without doubt beautiful, but who is so skinny we have to look twice to see her, and when I ask her if she can give me any information about a party named Nicely–Nicely Jones, she says to me like this:
"I guess you mean Quentin," she says. "Yes," she says, "Quentin is here. Come in, gentlemen."
So we step into an apartment, and as we do so a thin, sickly looking character gets up out of a chair by the window and in a weak voice says good evening. It is a good evening, at that, so Horsey and I say good evening