10 short stories O. Henry. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Неадаптированный текст

He saw the look of beneficent happiness on the Old Gentleman’s face – a happier look than even the fuchsias and the ornithoptera amphrisius had ever brought to it – and he had not the heart |не осмелился| to see it wane |ослабнуть|.

In an hour Stuffy leaned back |откинулся| with a battle won. “Thankee kindly, sir,” he puffed like a leaky steam pipe |пропыхтел он как дырявая паровая труба|; “thankee kindly for a hearty meal.” Then he arose heavily with glazed eyes and started toward the kitchen. A waiter turned him about like a top |крутанул его как волчок|, and pointed him toward the door.

They parted |расстались| as they did each year at the door, the Old Gentleman going south, Stuffy north.

Around the first corner Stuffy turned, and stood for one minute. Then he seemed to puff out his rags as an owl puffs out his feathers |казалось, что он распушил свои лохмотья, как сова пушит свои перья|, and fell to the sidewalk like a sunstricken horse.

When the ambulance came the young surgeon |хирург| and the driver cursed softly at his weight |тихо выругались по поводу веса Стаффи|. There was no smell of whiskey to justify a transfer to the patrol wagon |в полицейский участок|, so Stuffy and his two dinners went to the hospital. There they stretched him on a bed and began to test him for strange diseases, with the hope of getting a chance at some problem with the bare steel |которую можно вылечить стальным скальпелем|.

And lo! |архаичное восклицание, вроде русского “и глянь!”| an hour later another ambulance brought the Old Gentleman. And they laid him on another bed and spoke of appendicitis, for he looked good for the bill |его внешность внушала надежду на оплату счета за лечение|.

But pretty soon one of the young doctors met one of the young nurses whose eyes he liked, and stopped to chat with her about the cases.

“That nice old gentleman over there, now,” he said, “you wouldn’t think that was a case of almost starvation |истощение от голода|. Proud old family, I guess. He told me he hadn’t eaten a thing |не ел ни крошки| for three days.”

The Last Leaf

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy |улицы сошли с ума| and broken themselves into small strips called “places.” These “places” make strange angles and curves.