Читать книгу Stuart Little - Garth Williams, Fred Marcellino - Страница 11

ONE morning when the wind was from the west, Stuart put on his sailor suit and his sailor hat, took his spyglass down from the shelf, and set out for a walk, full of the joy of life and the fear of dogs. With a rolling gait he sauntered along toward Fifth Avenue, keeping a sharp lookout.

Whenever he spied a dog through his glass, Stuart would hurry to the nearest doorman, climb his trouserleg, and hide in the tails of his uniform. And once, when no doorman was handy, he had to crawl into a yesterday’s paper and roll himself up in the second section till danger was past.

At the corner of Fifth Avenue there were several people waiting for the uptown bus, and Stuart joined them. Nobody noticed him, because he wasn’t tall enough to be noticed.

‘I’m not tall enough to be noticed,’ thought Stuart, ‘yet I’m tall enough to want to go to Seventy-second Street.’

When the bus came into view, all the men waved their canes and briefcases at the driver, and Stuart waved his spyglass. Then, knowing that the step of the bus would be too high for him, Stuart seized hold of the cuff of a gentleman’s pants and was swung aboard without any trouble or inconvenience whatever.

Stuart never paid any fare on buses, because he wasn’t big enough to carry an ordinary dime. The only time he had ever attempted to carry a dime, he had rolled the coin along like a hoop while he raced along beside it; but it had got away from him on a hill and had been snatched up by an old woman with no teeth. After that experience Stuart contented himself with the tiny coins which his father made for him out of tin foil. They were handsome little things, although rather hard to see without putting on your spectacles.

When the conductor came around to collect the fares, Stuart fished in his purse and pulled out a coin no bigger than the eye of a grasshopper.

‘What’s that you’re offering me?’ asked the conductor.

‘It’s one of my dimes,’ said Stuart.

‘Is it, now?’ said the conductor. ‘Well, I’d have a fine time explaining that to the bus company. Why, you’re no bigger than a dime yourself.’

‘Yes I am,’ replied Stuart angrily. ‘I’m more than twice as big as a dime. A dime only comes up to here on me.’ And Stuart pointed to his hip. ‘Furthermore,’ he added, ‘I didn’t come on this bus to be insulted.’