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811
Tne
end
of
the
great
barn
was
piled
high
with
new
hay
and
over
the
pile
hung
the
four
-
taloned
Jackson
fork
suspended
from
its
pulley
.
The
hay
came
down
like
a
mountain
slope
to
the
other
end
of
the
barn
,
and
there
was
a
level
place
as
yet
unfilled
with
the
new
crop
.
At
the
sides
the
feeding
racks
were
visible
,
and
between
the
slats
the
heads
of
horses
could
be
seen
.
812
It
was
Sunday
afternoon
.
The
resting
horses
nibbled
the
remaining
wisps
of
hay
,
and
they
stamped
their
feet
and
they
bit
the
wood
of
the
mangers
and
rattled
the
halter
chains
.
The
afternoon
sun
sliced
in
through
the
cracks
of
the
barn
walls
and
lay
in
bright
lines
on
the
hay
.
There
was
the
buzz
of
flies
in
the
air
,
the
lazy
afternoon
humming
.
813
From
outside
came
the
clang
of
horseshoes
on
the
playing
peg
and
the
shouts
of
men
,
playing
,
encouraging
,
jeering
.
But
in
the
barn
it
was
quiet
and
humming
and
lazy
and
warm
.
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814
Only
Lennie
was
in
the
barn
,
and
Lennie
sat
in
the
hay
beside
a
packing
case
under
a
manger
in
the
end
of
the
barn
that
had
not
been
filled
with
hay
.
Lennie
sat
in
the
hay
and
looked
at
a
little
dead
puppy
that
lay
in
front
of
him
.
Lennie
looked
at
it
for
a
long
time
,
and
then
he
put
out
his
huge
hand
and
stroked
it
,
stroked
it
clear
from
one
end
to
the
other
.
815
And
Lennie
said
softly
to
the
puppy
,
«
Why
do
you
got
to
get
killed
?
You
ain
t
so
little
as
mice
.
I
didn
t
bounce
you
hard
.
»
He
bent
the
pup
s
head
up
and
looked
in
its
face
,
and
he
said
to
it
,
«
Now
maybe
George
ain
t
gonna
let
me
tend
no
rabbits
,
if
he
fin
s
out
you
got
killed
.
»
816
He
scooped
a
little
hollow
and
laid
the
puppy
in
it
and
covered
it
over
with
hay
,
out
of
sight
;
but
he
continued
to
stare
at
the
mound
he
had
made
.
He
said
,
«
This
ain
t
no
bad
thing
like
I
got
to
go
hide
in
the
brush
.
Oh
!
no
.
This
ain
t
.
I
ll
tell
George
I
foun
it
dead
.
»
817
He
unburied
the
puppy
and
inspected
it
,
and
he
stroked
it
from
ears
to
tail
.
He
went
on
sorrowfully
,
«
But
he
ll
know
.
George
always
knows
.
He
ll
say
,
You
done
it
.
Don
t
try
to
put
nothing
over
on
me
.
An
he
ll
say
,
Now
jus
for
that
you
don
t
get
to
tend
no
rabbits
!
"
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818
Suddenly
his
anger
arose
.
«
God
damn
you
,
"
he
cried
.
«
Why
do
you
got
to
get
killed
?
You
ain
t
so
little
as
mice
.
»
He
picked
up
the
pup
and
hurled
it
from
him
.
He
turned
his
back
on
it
.
He
sat
bent
over
his
knees
and
he
whispered
,
«
Now
I
won
t
get
to
tend
the
rabbits
.
Now
he
won
t
let
me
.
»
He
rocked
himself
back
and
forth
in
his
sorrow
.
819
From
outside
came
the
clang
of
horseshoes
on
the
iron
stake
,
and
then
a
little
chorus
of
cries
.
Lennie
got
up
and
brought
the
puppy
back
and
laid
it
on
the
hay
and
sat
down
.
He
stroked
the
pup
again
.
«
You
wasn
t
big
enough
,
"
he
said
.
820
«
They
tol
me
and
tol
me
you
wasn
t
.
I
di
n
t
know
you
d
get
killed
so
easy
.
»
He
worked
his
fingers
on
the
pup
s
limp
ear
.
«
Maybe
George
won
t
care
,
"
he
said
.
«
This
here
God
damn
little
son
-
of
-
a
-
bitch
wasn
t
nothing
to
George
.
»