"The Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow" by Jerome K. Jerome. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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Джером К. Джером. The Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow
The Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow
Table of Contents
ON THE ART OF MAKING UP ONE’S MIND
ON THE DISADVANTAGE OF NOT GETTING WHAT ONE WANTS
ON THE EXCEPTIONAL MERIT ATTACHING TO THE THINGS WE MEANT TO DO
ON THE PREPARATION AND EMPLOYMENT OF LOVE PHILTRES
ON THE DELIGHTS AND BENEFITS OF SLAVERY
ON THE CARE AND MANAGEMENT OF WOMEN
ON THE MINDING OF OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESS
ON THE TIME WASTED IN LOOKING BEFORE ONE LEAPS
ON THE NOBILITY OF OURSELVES
ON THE MOTHERLINESS OF MAN
ON THE INADVISABILITY OF FOLLOWING ADVICE
ON THE PLAYING OF MARCHES AT THE FUNERALS OF MARIONETTES
Отрывок из книги
Jerome K. Jerome
Published by Good Press, 2019
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But his speciality was stopping runaway horses, thereby saving the heroine’s life. This, combined with the broken English and the dog, rendered him irresistible.
He seemed a peaceful, amiable sort of creature, and I decided to try him. I could not of course be a German professor, but I could, and did, wear my hair long in spite of much public advice to the contrary, voiced chiefly by small boys. I endeavoured to obtain possession of a lame dog, but failed. A one-eyed dealer in Seven Dials, to whom, as a last resource, I applied, offered to lame one for me for an extra five shillings, but this suggestion I declined. I came across an uncanny-looking mongrel late one night. He was not lame, but he seemed pretty sick; and, feeling I was not robbing anybody of anything very valuable, I lured him home and nursed him. I fancy I must have over-nursed him. He got so healthy in the end, there was no doing anything with him. He was an ill-conditioned cur, and he was too old to be taught. He became the curse of the neighbourhood. His idea of sport was killing chickens and sneaking rabbits from outside poulterers’ shops. For recreation he killed cats and frightened small children by yelping round their legs. There were times when I could have lamed him myself, if only I could have got hold of him. I made nothing by running that dog—nothing whatever. People, instead of admiring me for nursing him back to life, called me a fool, and said that if I didn’t drown the brute they would. He spoilt my character utterly—I mean my character at this period. It is difficult to pose as a young man with a heart of gold, when discovered in the middle of the road throwing stones at your own dog. And stones were the only things that would reach and influence him.
