"Фредерик Браун. Night of the Jabberwock (англ) " - читать интересную книгу автораmagna cum laude, but the rest of it was amazing. Lewis Carroll Through the
Looking-Glass was a monograph of a dozen. pages; it had been printed eighteen years ago and only a hundred copies had been run off. If one still existed anywhere outside of my own library, I was greatly surprised. And Red Queen and White Queen was a magazine article that had appeared at least twelve years ago in a magazine that had been obscure then and had long since been discontinued and forgotten. "Yes," I said. "But how you know of them, I can't imagine, Mr." "Smith," he said gravely. Then he chuckled. "And the first name is Yehudi." "No!" I said. "Yes. You see, Doctor Stoeger, I was named forty years ago, when the name Yehudi, although uncommon, had not yet acquired the comic connotation which it has today. My parents did not guess that the name would become a joke and that it would be particularly ridiculous when combined with Smith. Had they guessed the difficulty I now have in convincing people that I'm not kidding them when I tell them my name" He laughed ruefully. "I always carry cards." He handed me one. It read: Yehudi Smith There was no address, no other information. Just the same, I wanted to keep that card, so I stuck it in my pocket instead of handing it back. He said, "People are named Yehudi, you know. There's Yehudi Menuhin, "Stop, please," I interrupted. "You're making it plausible. I liked it better the other way." He smiled. "Then I haven't misjudged you, Doctor. Have you ever heard of the Vorpal Blades?" "Plural? No. Of course, in Jabberwocky: One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack. But Good God! Why are we talking about vorpal blades through a doorway? Come on in. I've got a bottle, and I hope and presume that it would be ridiculous to ask a man who talks about vorpal blades whether or not he drinks." I stepped back and he came in. "Sit anywhere," I told him. "I'll get another glass. Want either a mix or a chaser?" He shook his head, and I went out into the kitchen and got another glass. I came in, filled it and handed it to him. He'd already made himself comfortable in the overstuffed chair. I sat back down on the sofa and lifted my glass toward him. I said, "No doubt about a toast for this one. To Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, known, when in Wonderland, as Lewis Carroll." He said, quietly, "Are you sure, Doctor?" "Sure of what?" "Of your phraseology in that toast. I'd word it: To Lewis Carroll, who |
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