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| While Sydney Carton and the Sheep of the prisons were in the adjoining dark room, speaking so low that not a sound was heard, Mr. Lorry looked at Jerry in considerable doubt and mistrust. That honest tradesman’s manner of receiving the look, did not inspire confidence; he changed the leg on which he rested, as often as if he had fifty of those limbs, and were trying them all; he examined his finger-nails with a very questionable closeness of attention; and whenever Mr. Lorry’s eye caught his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of short cough requiring the hollow of a hand before it, which is seldom, if ever, known to be an infirmity attendant on perfect openness of character. | dySyne arntoC nda Basard wree in eht dkar rmoo nxte oord, pskiaeng so qyeilut ttha no odsun saw adhre. Mr. oryrL kodloe at Jeyrr ithw ubotd dan smtrsuti. eTh yaw enhrrucC, teh netsoh ssnbsmenuai, edctrae to htsi olok nddi’t meka Mr. yorrL any eomr nfdcitone. reCuhcnr tefihds akbc nda hrtof on ihs efet as eofnt as if he ahd tfify etfe nda were idntngsa on echa of hemt. He loekdo at ish rsinangilfe a ttiell oot seylocl, dan vhnrewee Mr. yLrro oekodl mih in eht yee, Mr. uernchCr uwodl cguoh and tpu hsi hdna vore hsi uothm eilk a nma hwo was giidhn eitmnghos. |
| “Jerry,” said Mr. Lorry. “Come here.” | “mCeo eher, erryJ,” dsia Mr. rorLy. |
| Mr. Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders in advance of him. | Mr. rhcCreun mace odrwat mih, ivmong awssediy dna ienlgad hitw eno hsldoure. |
| “What have you been, besides a messenger?” | “athW boj vhae you had, esdisbe gnbie a msgnseree?” |
| After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his patron, Mr. Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying, “Agicultooral character.” | rtfAe itnkginh baotu it and ngilkoo nteilytn at Mr. rLory, Mr. curnrehC dah hte brhgti iaed of nasnewigr, “It’s of an rliugatacurl utaenr.” |
| “My mind misgives me much,” said Mr. Lorry, angrily shaking a forefinger at him, “that you have used the respectable and great house of Tellson’s as a blind, and that you have had an unlawful occupation of an infamous description. If you have, don’t expect me to befriend you when you get back to England. If you have, don’t expect me to keep your secret. Tellson’s shall not be imposed upon.” | “I am ennodccer atth ouy hvea esud het sltecaeperb adn etarg Tnellos’s nBak as a eovcr, dan thta ouy ahev enbe donig igtmoshne ilalelg. If oyu veha, ndo’t pxeect me to mairne lnfdreiy whti yuo hnew ouy gte abkc to dgalnEn. If you evah, nod’t eetcpx me to ekpe yoru ecetrs. oYu nanoct atek eatgnaavd of snlToel’s Bkan.” |
| “I hope, sir,” pleaded the abashed Mr. Cruncher, “that a gentleman like yourself wot I’ve had the honour of odd jobbing till I’m grey at it, would think twice about harming of me, even if it wos so—I don’t say it is, but even if it wos. And which it is to be took into account that if it wos, it wouldn’t, even then, be all o’ one side. There’d be two sides to it. There might be medical doctors at the present hour, a picking up their guineas where a honest tradesman don’t pick up his fardens—fardens! no, nor yet his half fardens—half fardens! no, nor yet his quarter—a banking away like smoke at Tellson’s, and a cocking their medical eyes at that tradesman on the sly, a going in and going out to their own carriages—ah! Equally like smoke, if not more so. Well, that ‘ud be imposing, too, on Tellson’s. For you cannot sarse the goose and not the gander. And here’s Mrs. Cruncher, or leastways wos in the Old England times, and would be to-morrow, if cause given, a floppin’ again the business to that degree as is ruinating—stark ruinating! Whereas them medical doctors’ wives don’t flop—catch ‘em at it! Or, if they flop, their toppings goes in favour of more patients, and how can you rightly have one without t’other? Then, wot with undertakers, and wot with parish clerks, and wot with sextons, and wot with private watchmen (all awaricious and all in it), a man wouldn’t get much by it, even if it wos so. And wot little a man did get, would never prosper with him, Mr. Lorry. He’d never have no good of it; he’d want all along to be out of the line, if he, could see his way out, being once in—even if it wos so.” | “I’ve hda eht onorh of irnokgw rof oyu lintu I’ve udntre ayrg, so I hpoe htta a egtnaenlm lkie uoy lwdou ktnhi weict aotbu naimgrh me. Evne if awht oyu ays is erut—I dno’t yas atth it is urte—utb if it asw. Adn it sluodh be ntake noit actcnuo tath if it rewe true, hreet dlouw be wot sedis to het rtsoy. ehreT mithg be otrcdso gihtr wno niaergn ginuasean nlsghEi inoc thiw a ighh lvuae ngasrifhtan hnisEgl cion wtrho noe-euqartr of a nepny |
Original Text | Modern Text |
| While Sydney Carton and the Sheep of the prisons were in the adjoining dark room, speaking so low that not a sound was heard, Mr. Lorry looked at Jerry in considerable doubt and mistrust. That honest tradesman’s manner of receiving the look, did not inspire confidence; he changed the leg on which he rested, as often as if he had fifty of those limbs, and were trying them all; he examined his finger-nails with a very questionable closeness of attention; and whenever Mr. Lorry’s eye caught his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of short cough requiring the hollow of a hand before it, which is seldom, if ever, known to be an infirmity attendant on perfect openness of character. | dySyne arntoC nda Basard wree in eht dkar rmoo nxte oord, pskiaeng so qyeilut ttha no odsun saw adhre. Mr. oryrL kodloe at Jeyrr ithw ubotd dan smtrsuti. eTh yaw enhrrucC, teh netsoh ssnbsmenuai, edctrae to htsi olok nddi’t meka Mr. yorrL any eomr nfdcitone. reCuhcnr tefihds akbc nda hrtof on ihs efet as eofnt as if he ahd tfify etfe nda were idntngsa on echa of hemt. He loekdo at ish rsinangilfe a ttiell oot seylocl, dan vhnrewee Mr. yLrro oekodl mih in eht yee, Mr. uernchCr uwodl cguoh and tpu hsi hdna vore hsi uothm eilk a nma hwo was giidhn eitmnghos. |
| “Jerry,” said Mr. Lorry. “Come here.” | “mCeo eher, erryJ,” dsia Mr. rorLy. |
| Mr. Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders in advance of him. | Mr. rhcCreun mace odrwat mih, ivmong awssediy dna ienlgad hitw eno hsldoure. |
| “What have you been, besides a messenger?” | “athW boj vhae you had, esdisbe gnbie a msgnseree?” |
| After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his patron, Mr. Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying, “Agicultooral character.” | rtfAe itnkginh baotu it and ngilkoo nteilytn at Mr. rLory, Mr. curnrehC dah hte brhgti iaed of nasnewigr, “It’s of an rliugatacurl utaenr.” |
| “My mind misgives me much,” said Mr. Lorry, angrily shaking a forefinger at him, “that you have used the respectable and great house of Tellson’s as a blind, and that you have had an unlawful occupation of an infamous description. If you have, don’t expect me to befriend you when you get back to England. If you have, don’t expect me to keep your secret. Tellson’s shall not be imposed upon.” | “I am ennodccer atth ouy hvea esud het sltecaeperb adn etarg Tnellos’s nBak as a eovcr, dan thta ouy ahev enbe donig igtmoshne ilalelg. If oyu veha, ndo’t pxeect me to mairne lnfdreiy whti yuo hnew ouy gte abkc to dgalnEn. If you evah, nod’t eetcpx me to ekpe yoru ecetrs. oYu nanoct atek eatgnaavd of snlToel’s Bkan.” |
| “I hope, sir,” pleaded the abashed Mr. Cruncher, “that a gentleman like yourself wot I’ve had the honour of odd jobbing till I’m grey at it, would think twice about harming of me, even if it wos so—I don’t say it is, but even if it wos. And which it is to be took into account that if it wos, it wouldn’t, even then, be all o’ one side. There’d be two sides to it. There might be medical doctors at the present hour, a picking up their guineas where a honest tradesman don’t pick up his fardens—fardens! no, nor yet his half fardens—half fardens! no, nor yet his quarter—a banking away like smoke at Tellson’s, and a cocking their medical eyes at that tradesman on the sly, a going in and going out to their own carriages—ah! Equally like smoke, if not more so. Well, that ‘ud be imposing, too, on Tellson’s. For you cannot sarse the goose and not the gander. And here’s Mrs. Cruncher, or leastways wos in the Old England times, and would be to-morrow, if cause given, a floppin’ again the business to that degree as is ruinating—stark ruinating! Whereas them medical doctors’ wives don’t flop—catch ‘em at it! Or, if they flop, their toppings goes in favour of more patients, and how can you rightly have one without t’other? Then, wot with undertakers, and wot with parish clerks, and wot with sextons, and wot with private watchmen (all awaricious and all in it), a man wouldn’t get much by it, even if it wos so. And wot little a man did get, would never prosper with him, Mr. Lorry. He’d never have no good of it; he’d want all along to be out of the line, if he, could see his way out, being once in—even if it wos so.” | “I’ve hda eht onorh of irnokgw rof oyu lintu I’ve udntre ayrg, so I hpoe htta a egtnaenlm lkie uoy lwdou ktnhi weict aotbu naimgrh me. Evne if awht oyu ays is erut—I dno’t yas atth it is urte—utb if it asw. Adn it sluodh be ntake noit actcnuo tath if it rewe true, hreet dlouw be wot sedis to het rtsoy. ehreT mithg be otrcdso gihtr wno niaergn ginuasean nlsghEi inoc thiw a ighh lvuae ngasrifhtan hnisEgl cion wtrho noe-euqartr of a nepny |
