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Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “ about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less |нет ничего.., что заставит любить тебя меньше|. But if you’ll |вообще-то, по строгим правилам, will после if тут стоять не должно, и О. Генри об этом точно знает. Видимо, он тем самым он хочет сказать, что Джим – парень простой, в университетах не учился| unwrap that package you may see why you had me going |я так себя вел| a while at first.»
White fingers and nimble |проворно| tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating |требующие| the immediate employment |здесь это не трудоустройство, а вмешательство| of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs |гребни для волос| – the set of combs, side and back |задние и боковые|, that Della had worshipped |обожала| for long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise-shell |из панциря черепахи|, with jewelled rims —just the shade to wear |под цвет ее волос| in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned |изнывало и томилось| over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone |локонов… больше не было|.
But she hugged them to her bosom |к груди|, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes |глазами с поволокой| and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”
And then Della leaped up |прыгнула| like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”
Jim had not yet seen |еще пока не видел| his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly |воодушевленно| upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit |пылкой души|.
“Isn’t it a dandy |превосходна|, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”
Instead of obeying |Вместо того, чтобы подчиниться|, Jim tumbled down |рухнул| on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ‘em |them. Разговорное сокращение| a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on |пора накладывать ребрышки|.”
The magi, as you know, were wise men – wonderfully wise men – who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger |ясли|. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise |Будучи мудрыми|, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication |их можно было даже обменять, в случае повторения|. And here I have lamely |нескладно| related to you the uneventful |не насыщенную событиями| chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise |ко всем мудрым| of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
There is one day that is ours. There is one day when all we Americans who are not self-made go back to the old home to eat saleratus biscuits |saleratus – сода| and marvel how much nearer to the porch the old pump looks than it used to |удивляться, что старый колодец ближе к крыльцу, чем казался. Оборот used to значит, что раньше что-то происходило, но больше нет. I used to smoke – я раньше курил, но больше не курю|. Bless the day. President Roosevelt gives it to us. We hear some talk of the Puritans |о пуританах. Пуритане – это английские протестанты, часть из которых иммигрировала в Америку, они же и заложили основы праздника Дня Благодарения|, but don’t just remember who they were. Bet we can lick ‘em |Готов поспорить, мы бы намяли им бока. Первое значение слова to lick – облизать|, anyhow, if they try to land again. Plymouth Rocks |это место куда пуритане впервые высадились в Америке|? Well, that sounds more familiar. Lots of us have had to come down to hens since the Turkey Trust got its work in |Многим из нас пришлось перейти на курятину, когда в дело вмешался Индюшачий Трест. To come down – спуститься, снизойти, снизить запросы. Since – или “с какого-то времени”, или “раз уж…”|. But somebody in Washington is leaking |сливает| out advance information to ‘em about these Thanksgiving proclamations.
The big city |речь о Нью-Йорке| east of the cranberry bogs |клюквенных болот| has made Thanksgiving Day an institution |не институтом. Традицией|. The last Thursday in November is the only day in the year on which it recognizes the part of America lying across the ferries |единственный день…когда он признает ту часть Америки, которая лежит по ту сторону паромных переправ. Нью-Йорк лежит на островах и на момент написания рассказа (١٩٠٧ год), мостов, которые бы соединяли город с континентом было мало, а паромов было много. Только потом, с распространением автомобилей, а именно фордовской Model T, паромы вышли в тираж|. It is the one day that is purely American. Yes, a day of celebration, exclusively American.
And now for the story which is to prove to you |эта история докажет вам| that we have traditions on this side of the ocean that are becoming older at a much rapider |которые становятся старее, гораздо быстрее, чем…| rate than those of England are – thanks to our git-up and enterprise |настойчивости и предприимчивости|.
Stuffy Pete |Слово stuffy имеет много значений – душный, скучный, занудный, забитый, чопорный. Стаффи Пит – это явно кличка, но какое именно значение слова stuffy имел в виду О. Генри понять сложно, поэтому в русском переводе слово не было переведено. Стаффи Пит так и остался Стаффи Питом|, took his seat on the third bench to the right as you enter Union Square from the east at the walk opposite the fountain. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had taken his seat there promptly at 1 o’clock. For every time he had done so things had happened to him – Charles Dickensy things |события в духе Чарльза Диккенса случались с ним| that swelled |раздувало| his waistcoat above his heart, and equally |в равной степени| on the other side.
But to-day Stuffy Pete’s appearance at the a