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- Джек Лондон
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"
Aw
,
shucks
,
Jesse
--
they
're
in
the
ground
already
.
Do
n't
you
know
everybody
has
to
bury
their
dead
as
they
traipse
along
?
They
've
ben
doin
'
it
for
thousands
of
years
I
reckon
,
and
there
's
just
as
many
alive
as
ever
they
was
.
You
see
,
Jesse
,
birth
and
death
go
hand-in-hand
.
And
they
're
born
as
fast
as
they
die
--
faster
,
I
reckon
,
because
they
've
increased
and
multiplied
.
Now
you
,
you
might
a-got
killed
this
afternoon
packin
'
water
.
But
you
're
here
,
ai
n't
you
,
a-gassin
'
with
me
an
'
likely
to
grow
up
an
'
be
the
father
of
a
fine
large
family
in
Californy
.
They
say
everything
grows
large
in
Californy
.
"
This
cheerful
way
of
looking
at
the
matter
encouraged
me
to
dare
sudden
expression
of
a
long
covetousness
.
"
Say
,
Laban
,
supposin
'
you
got
killed
here
--
"
"
Who
?
--
me
?
"
he
cried
.
"
I
'm
just
sayin
'
supposin
'
,
"
I
explained
.
"
Oh
,
all
right
then
.
Go
on
.
Supposin
'
I
am
killed
?
"
"
Will
you
give
me
your
scalps
?
"
"
Your
ma
'll
smack
you
if
she
catches
you
a-wearin
'
them
,
"
he
temporized
.
"
I
do
n't
have
to
wear
them
when
she
's
around
.
Now
if
you
got
killed
,
Laban
,
somebody
'd
have
to
get
them
scalps
.
Why
not
me
?
"
