"William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity fair" - читать интересную книгу автора

of tyranny; or perhaps he had a hankering feeling of
revenge in his mind, and longed to measure himself
against that splendid bully and tyrant, who had all the
glory, pride, pomp, circumstance, banners flying, drums
beating, guards saluting, in the place. Whatever may have
been his incentive, however, up he sprang, and screamed
out, "Hold off, Cuff; don't bully that child any more; or
I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Cuff asked in amazement at this
interruption. "Hold out your hand, you little beast."

"I'll give you the worst thrashing you ever had in your
life," Dobbin said, in reply to the first part of Cuff's
sentence; and little Osborne, gasping and in tears, looked
up with wonder and incredulity at seeing this amazing
champion put up suddenly to defend him: while Cuff's
astonishment was scarcely less. Fancy our late monarch
George III when he heard of the revolt of the North
American colonies: fancy brazen Goliath when little
David stepped forward and claimed a meeting; and you
have the feelings of Mr. Reginald Cuff when this
rencontre was proposed to him.

"After school," says he, of course; after a pause and a
look, as much as to say, "Make your will, and
communicate your last wishes to your friends
between this time and that."

"As you please," Dobbin said. "You must be my bottle
holder, Osborne."

"Well, if you like," little Osborne replied; for you see
his papa kept a carriage, and he was rather ashamed of
his champion.

Yes, when the hour of battle came, he was almost
ashamed to say, "Go it, Figs"; and not a single other boy
in the place uttered that cry for the first two or three
rounds of this famous combat; at the commencement of
which the scientific Cuff, with a contemptuous smile on
his face, and as light and as gay as if he was at a ball,
planted his blows upon his adversary, and floored that
unlucky champion three times running. At each fall there
was a cheer; and everybody was anxious to have the
honour of offering the conqueror a knee.

"What a licking I shall get when it's over," young
Osborne thought, picking up his man. "You'd best give in,"
he said to Dobbin; "it's only a thrashing, Figs, and you