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- Джон Стейнбек
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Mac
said
,
"
You
’
ve
picked
a
hell
of
a
fine
life
if
you
don
’
t
want
to
get
batted
around
.
Wait
till
we
finish
this
job
,
you
’
ll
get
batted
plenty
.
"
"
That
’
s
different
,
"
Jim
protested
.
"
I
don
’
t
mind
getting
smacked
on
the
chin
.
I
just
don
’
t
want
to
get
nibbled
to
death
.
There
’
s
a
difference
.
"
Mac
yawned
.
"
It
’
s
not
a
difference
that
’
s
going
to
keep
me
awake
.
Cat
-
houses
aren
’
t
much
fun
.
"
He
got
up
and
went
back
to
the
pile
of
papers
,
and
he
spread
them
out
and
lay
down
and
went
to
sleep
.
For
a
long
time
Jim
sat
in
the
doorway
,
watching
the
farms
go
by
.
There
were
big
market
vegetable
gardens
with
rows
of
round
lettuces
and
rows
of
fern
-
like
carrots
,
and
red
beet
leaves
,
with
glistening
water
running
between
the
rows
.
The
train
went
by
fields
of
alfalfa
,
and
by
great
white
dairy
barns
from
which
the
wind
brought
the
rich
,
healthy
smell
of
manure
and
ammonia
.
And
then
the
freight
entered
a
pass
in
the
hills
,
and
the
sun
was
cut
off
.
Ferns
and
green
live
oaks
grew
on
the
steep
sides
of
the
right
-
of
-
way
.
The
roaring
rhythm
of
the
train
beat
on
Jim
’
s
senses
and
made
him
drowsy
.
He
fought
off
sleep
so
that
he
might
see
more
of
the
country
,
shook
his
head
violently
to
jar
himself
awake
;
but
at
last
he
stood
up
,
ran
the
door
nearly
closed
,
and
retired
to
his
own
pile
of
papers
.
His
sleep
was
a
shouting
,
echoing
black
cave
,
and
it
extended
into
eternity
.
Mac
shook
him
several
times
before
he
could
wake
up
.
"
It
’
s
nearly
time
to
get
off
,
"
Mac
shouted
.
Jim
sat
up
.
"
Good
God
,
have
we
gone
a
hundred
miles
?
"
"
Pretty
near
.
Noise
kind
of
drugs
you
,
don
’
t
it
.
I
can
’
t
ever
stay
awake
in
a
box
-
car
.
Pull
yourself
together
.
We
’
re
going
to
slow
down
in
a
couple
of
minutes
.
"
Jim
held
his
dull
head
between
his
hands
for
a
moment
.
"
I
do
feel
slugged
,
"
he
said
.
Mac
threw
open
the
door
.
He
called
,
"
Jump
the
way
we
’
re
going
,
and
land
running
.
"
He
leaped
out
,
and
Jim
followed
him
.
