Артур Дойл - Приключения Шерлока Холмса / The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (сборник)

through prp через, сквозь

tobacconist n торговец табачными изделиями, продавец, владелец табачной лавки

touch v трогать, касаться

track n след

tradesman n торговец, лавочник

trick n хитрость, обман; шутка; to play a trick on smbподшутить над кем-л.; обмануть кого-л.

tunnel n туннель

turn n очередь

turning n поворот

twice adv дважды; вдвое

unusual a необычный, необыкновенный

upstairs adv наверху, наверх, вверх

use v пользоваться, употреблять; n польза; be of useбыть полезным; it’s no useбесполезно

vacancy n вакансия

vein n вена, жила

very a тот самый

voice n голос

vulnerable a уязвимый, незащищенный

wage n (обыкн. pl ) заработная плата

warning n предупреждение, предостережение

way n дорога, путь; способ, средство, манера; to get smb / smth out of the wayизбавиться от кого-л./ чего-л.; убрать кого-л./ что-л.; спути ( в прямом или переносном смысле ); make one’s wayдвигаться

welladv да; ведь; ну и, точно; ну (выражает удивление, сомнение, уступку, согласие, чувство удовлетворения, облегчения)

whether cj ли

while cj, adv пока, в то время как

whisper v шептать

whole a целый

widower n вдовец

wig n парик

will n завещание

wish v желать, хотеть; n желание

without prp без

wooden a деревянный

worn a изношенный, потертый

worth a стóящий, заслуживающий

yet adv все же

I had visited my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, in order to wish him the compliments of the season [48]. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack beside him on the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear [49], and cracked in several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been hung ready for examination.

“You are busy,” said I. “Perhaps I interrupt you.”

“Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one,” – he pointed at the old hat, – “but there is something interesting and informative in connection with it.”

I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his crackling fire, because a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were thick with the ice crystals. “I suppose,” I said, “that, though it looks homely, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it – that it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the punishment of some crime.”

“No, no. No crime,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “Only one of those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense crowd of people, every possible combination of events can take place, and many little problems will appear which may be striking and unusual without being criminal. We have already had experience of such cases.”

“So much so [50],” l remarked, “that of the last six cases which I have added to my notes, three have been free of any legal crime.”

“Exactly. You mean my attempt to get back Irene Adler’s papers, the unusual case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small matter will be innocent too. You know Peterson, the commissionaire?”

“Yes.”

“This trophy belongs to him.”

“It is his hat.”

“No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. Please, look upon it not as a seedy hat but as an intellectual problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson’s fire. The facts are these: about four o’clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small celebration and was walking down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in the gaslight, a tall man, walking with a slight stagger, and carrying a white goose over his shoulder. As he reached the corner of Goodge Street, a row began between this stranger and a little knot of roughs. One of them knocked off the man’s hat, on which he raised his stick to protect himself and, swinging it over his head, broke the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels [51], and vanished in the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also run away at the appearance of Peterson, so that he was left alone on the field of battle. There remained also the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a most excellent Christmas goose.”

“Which surely he restored to their owner?”

“My dear Watson, that is the problem. It is true that ‘For Mrs. Henry Baker’ was printed upon a small card which was tied to the bird’s left leg, and it is also true that the initials ‘H. B.’ are legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them.”

“What, then, did Peterson do?”

“He brought to me both hat and goose on Christmas morning, knowing that even the smallest problems are interesting to me. The goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten as soon as possible. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner.”