"J.R.R. Tolkien - Farmer Giles of Ham" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tolkien J.R.R)would not be Sheathed, Death or Victory, The Glory of
the Yeomanry, Backbone of the Country, and the Good of one's Fellow Men, until the farmer's head was hope- lessly confused `Now then! One at a time!' he said, when he got a chance. `What's all this, what's all this? It's my busy morning, you know.' So they let the parson explain the situation. Then the miller had the pleasure of seeing the farmer in as tight a fiat as he could wish. But things did not turn out quite as the miller expected. For one thing Giles had drunk a deal of strong ale. For another he had a queer feeling of pride and encouragement when he learned that his sword was actually Tailbiter. He had been very fond of tales about Bellomarius when he was a boy, and before he had learned sense he had sometimes wished that he could have a marvellous and heroic sword of his own. So it came over him all of a sudden that he would take Tail- biter and go dragon-hunting. But he had been used to bargaining all his life, and he made one more effort to postpone the event. 'What!' said he. `Me go dragon-hunting? In my old leggings and waistcoat? Dragon-fights need some kind of armour, from all I've heard tell. There isn't any armour in That was a bit awkward, they all allowed; but they sent for the blacksmith. The blacksmith shook his head. He was a slow, gloomy man, vulgarly known as Sunny Sam, though his proper name was Fabricius Cunctator. He never whistled at his work, unless some disaster (such as frost in May) had duly occurred after he had foretold it. Since he was daily foretelling disasters of every kind, few happened that he had not foretold, and he was able to take the credit of them. It was his chief pleasure; so naturally he was reluctant to do anything to avert them. Ire shook his head again. `I can't make armour out of naught,' he said `And it's not in my line. You'd best get the carpenter to make you a wooden shield. Not that it will help you much. He's a hot dragon.' Their faces fell; but the miller was not so easily to be turned from his plan of sending Giles to the dragon, if he would go; or of blowing the bubble of his local reputation, if he refused in the end `What about ring-mail?' he said. `That would be a help; and it need not be very fine. It would be for business and not for showing off' at court. What about your old leather jerkin, friend Aegidius? And there is a great pile of links and rings in the smithy. I don't |
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