Caged by L.E. ReevePurcell was a sm

Caged by L.E. Reeve

Purcell was a small, fussy' man; red cheeks and a tight melon like stomach. Large glasses so magnified his eyes as to give him the appearance of a wise and kind owl.

He owned a pet shop. He sold cats and dogs and monkeys; he dealt in fish food and bird seed, prescribed remedies for ailing canaries, on his shelves there were long rows of cages. He considered himself something of a professional man.

There was a constant stir of life in his shop. The customers who came in said:

"Aren't they cute'! Look at that little monkey! They're sweet."

And Mr. Purcell himself would smile and rub his hands and nod his head.

Each morning, when the routine of opening his shop was completed, it was the proprietor's custom to perch on a high stool, behind the counter, unfold his morning paper, and digest the day's news.

It was a raw, wintry day. Wind gusted against the high, plateglass windows. Having completed his usual tasks, Mr. Purceil again mounted the high stool and unfolded his morning paper. He adjusted his glasses, aad glanced at the day's headlines.

There was a bell over the door that rang whenever a customer entered. This morning, however, for the first time Mr. Purcell could recall, it failed to ring. Simply he glanced up, and there was the stranger, standing just inside the door, as if he had materialized out of thin air.

The storekeeper slid off his stool. From the first instant he knew instinctively, that the man hated him; but out of habit he rubbed his hands, smiled and nodded.

"Good morning," he beamed. "What can I do for you?"

The man's shiny shoes squeaked forward. His suit was cheap, ill-fitting, but obviously new. Ignoring Purcell for the moment, he looked around the shadowy shop.

"A nasty morning," volunteered the shopkeeper. He clasped both hands across his melonlike stomach, and smiled importantly. Now what was it you wanted?"

The man stared closely at Purcell, as though just now aware of his presence. He said, "I want something in a cage."

"Something in a cage?" Mr. Purcell was a bit confused. "You mean — some sort of pet?"

"I mean what I said!" snapped' the man. "Something in a cage. Something alive that's in a cage."

"I see," hastened the storekeeper, not at all certain that he did. "Now let me think. A white rat, perhaps? I have some very nice white rats."

"No!" said the xnan. "Not rats. Something with wings. Something that flies."

"A bird!" exclaimed Mr. Purcell.

"A bird's all right." The customer pointed suddenly to a cage which contained two snowy birds. "Doves? How much for those?"

"Five-fifty," came the prompt answer. "And a very reasonable price. They are a fine pair."

"Five-fifty?" The man was obviously disappointed. He produced a five-dollar bill. "I'1 like to have those birds. But this is all I've got. Just five dollars."

Mentally, Mr. Purcell made a quick calculation, which told him that at a fifty cent reduction he could still reap a tidy profit. He smiled kindly "My dear man, if you want them that badly, you can certainly have them for five dollars."

"I'll take them." He laid his five dollars on the counter. Mr. Purcell unhooked the cage, and handed it to his customer. "That noise!" The man said suddenly. "Doesn't it get on your nerves?"

"Noise? What noise?" Mr. Purcell looked surprised. He could hear nothing unusual.

"Listen." The staring eyes came closer. "How long d'you think it took me to make that five dollars?"

The merchant wanted to order him out of the shop. But oddly enough, he couldn't. He heard himself asking, "Why — why, how long did it take you?"

The other laughed. "Ten years! At hard labour. Ten years to earn five dollars. Fifty cents a year."

It was best, Purcell decided, to humor him. "My, my! Ten years. That's certainly a long time. Now"

"They give you five dollars," laughed the man, "and a cheap suit, and tell you not to get caught again."

The man swung around, and stalked abruptly from the store.

Purcell sighed with sudden relief. He walked to the window and stared out. Just outside, his peculiar customer had stopped. He was holding the cage shoulder-high, staring at his purchase. Then, opening the cage, he reached inside and drew out one of the doves.He tossed it into the air. He drew out the second and tossed it after the first. They rose like balls and were lost in the smoky gray of the wintry city. For an instant the liberator's silent gaze watched them. Then he dropped the cage and walked away.

The merchant was perplexed. So desperately had the man desired the doves that he had let him have them at a reduced price. And immediately he had turned them loose. "Now why," Mr. Purcell muttered, "did he do that?" He felt vaguely insulted.

Результаты (русский) 1:

Клетке, Рив л.е.Пёрселл был небольшой, суетливый ' человек; красные щеки и туго дыни как желудок. Большие очки так увеличенное его глаза, чтобы дать ему внешний вид мудрый и добрый сова.Он владел зоомагазин. Он продал кошки и собаки и обезьяны; Он занимался рыба и птица семя, предписанные средства для больных канареек, на его полках были длинными рядами клеток. Он считал себя что-то профессиональный человек.Существует постоянное движение жизни в своем магазине. Клиенты, которые пришли в говорит:«Они не мило '! Посмотрите на что Обезьянка! Они сладкие».И г-н Перселл, сам бы улыбнуться и тереть руки и кивнул головой.Каждое утро, когда была завершена процедура открытия его магазин, он был обычай владельца окуня на высокий стул, за прилавком, раскрыть его утром документ и дайджест новости дня.Это был сырой, зимний день. Ветер gusted против высоких, plateglass windows. После завершения своих обычных задач, г-н Purceil снова установлен высокий стул и развернул его утром бумаги. Он поправил его очки, aad взглянул на день заголовки.Там был колокол над дверью, что позвонил всякий раз, когда клиент вступил. Сегодня утром, однако, в первый раз, которую г-н Перселл помнит, он не кольцо. Просто он взглянул вверх, и там был незнакомец, стоя в дверях, как если бы он материализовался из тонкого воздуха.Кладовщик скользнул покинуть его стула. С первый момент он инстинктивно знал, что человек ненавидел его; но по привычке он потер руки, улыбнулся и кивнул.«Доброе утро,» он сиял. «Что я могу для вас?»Человек блестящие туфли пискнул вперед. Его иск был дешево, неуклюжем, но очевидно, что новые. Игнорирование Purcell на данный момент, он посмотрел вокруг темным магазин.«A неприятную утром,» добровольно лавочника. Он сложив обе руки через его melonlike желудок и главное улыбнулся. Теперь то, что было то, что вы хотели?»Человек тесно смотрел на Перселла, как хотя только сейчас известно о его присутствии. Он сказал, «Я хочу что-то в клетке».«Что-то в клетке?» Г-н Перселл был немного смущен. «Вы значите — своего рода питомца?»«Я имею в виду, что я сказал»! отрезал ' человек. «Что-то в клетке. Что-то жив в клетке.»«Я вижу,» поспешили кладовщик, не на все уверены, что он сделал. «Теперь позвольте мне думать. Белая крыса, возможно? У меня есть некоторые очень приятно белых крысах.»«Нет!»-сказал xnan. «Не крысы. Что-то с крыльями. То, что мухи.»«Птица!»-воскликнул г-н Перселл.«Птица на все в порядке». Клиент указал внезапно в клетку, который содержал два снежных птиц. «Голуби? Как много для тех, кто?»«Пять-пятьдесят,» пришли быстрого ответа. «И очень разумной цене. Они представляют собой прекрасный пару.»«Пять-пятьдесят?» Этот человек был явно разочарованы. Он подготовил пяти долларовую купюру. «' 1 хотелось иметь этих птиц. Но это все, что я получил. Всего пять долларов.»Мысленно г-н Перселл сделал быстрый расчет, который сказал ему, что на пятьдесят процентов сокращения, которую он по-прежнему может извлечь значительную прибыль. Он улыбнулся любезно «дорогой мой человек, если вы хотите, что плохо, вы можете определенно иметь их за пять долларов.»"I'll take them." He laid his five dollars on the counter. Mr. Purcell unhooked the cage, and handed it to his customer. "That noise!" The man said suddenly. "Doesn't it get on your nerves?""Noise? What noise?" Mr. Purcell looked surprised. He could hear nothing unusual."Listen." The staring eyes came closer. "How long d'you think it took me to make that five dollars?"The merchant wanted to order him out of the shop. But oddly enough, he couldn't. He heard himself asking, "Why — why, how long did it take you?"The other laughed. "Ten years! At hard labour. Ten years to earn five dollars. Fifty cents a year."It was best, Purcell decided, to humor him. "My, my! Ten years. That's certainly a long time. Now""They give you five dollars," laughed the man, "and a cheap suit, and tell you not to get caught again."The man swung around, and stalked abruptly from the store.Purcell sighed with sudden relief. He walked to the window and stared out. Just outside, his peculiar customer had stopped. He was holding the cage shoulder-high, staring at his purchase. Then, opening the cage, he reached inside and drew out one of the doves.He tossed it into the air. He drew out the second and tossed it after the first. They rose like balls and were lost in the smoky gray of the wintry city. For an instant the liberator's silent gaze watched them. Then he dropped the cage and walked away.Торговец был озадачен. Так отчаянно человек желаемое голубей, что он пусть у них по сниженной цене. И сразу же он превратил их потерять. «Теперь почему,» г-н Перселл пробормотал, «он сделал это?» Он чувствовал смутно оскорбил.