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- Джон Стейнбек
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But
—
you
see
,
a
bank
or
a
company
can
’
t
do
that
,
because
those
creatures
don
’
t
breathe
air
,
don
’
t
eat
side
-
meat
.
They
breathe
profits
;
they
eat
the
interest
on
money
.
If
they
don
’
t
get
it
,
they
die
the
way
you
die
without
air
,
without
side
-
meat
.
It
is
a
sad
thing
,
but
it
is
so
.
It
is
just
so
.
The
squatting
men
raised
their
eyes
to
understand
.
Can
’
t
we
just
hang
on
?
Maybe
the
next
year
will
be
a
good
year
.
God
knows
how
much
cotton
next
year
.
And
with
all
the
wars
—
God
knows
what
price
cotton
will
bring
.
Don
’
t
they
make
explosives
out
of
cotton
?
And
uniforms
?
Get
enough
wars
and
cotton
’
ll
hit
the
ceiling
.
Next
year
,
maybe
.
They
looked
up
questioningly
.
We
can
’
t
depend
on
it
.
The
bank
—
the
monster
has
to
have
profits
all
the
time
.
It
can
’
t
wait
.
It
’
ll
die
.
No
,
taxes
go
on
.
When
the
monster
stops
growing
,
it
dies
.
It
can
’
t
stay
one
size
.
Soft
fingers
began
to
tap
the
sill
of
the
car
window
,
and
hard
fingers
tightened
on
the
restless
drawing
sticks
.
In
the
doorways
of
the
sun
-
beaten
tenant
houses
,
women
sighed
and
then
shifted
feet
so
that
the
one
that
had
been
down
was
now
on
top
,
and
the
toes
working
.
Dogs
came
sniffing
near
the
owner
cars
and
wetted
on
all
four
tires
one
after
another
.
And
chickens
lay
in
the
sunny
dust
and
fluffed
their
feathers
to
get
the
cleansing
dust
down
to
the
skin
.
In
the
little
sties
the
pigs
grunted
inquiringly
over
the
muddy
remnants
of
the
slops
.
The
squatting
men
looked
down
again
.
What
do
you
want
us
to
do
?
We
can
’
t
take
less
share
of
the
crop
—
we
’
re
half
starved
now
.
The
kids
are
hungry
all
the
time
.
We
got
no
clothes
,
torn
an
’
ragged
.
If
all
the
neighbors
weren
’
t
the
same
,
we
’
d
be
ashamed
to
go
to
meeting
.
And
at
last
the
owner
men
came
to
the
point
.
The
tenant
system
won
’
t
work
any
more
.
One
man
on
a
tractor
can
take
the
place
of
twelve
or
fourteen
families
.
Pay
him
a
wage
and
take
all
the
crop
.
We
have
to
do
it
.
We
don
’
t
like
to
do
it
.
But
the
monster
’
s
sick
.
Something
’
s
happened
to
the
monster
.
But
you
’
ll
kill
the
land
with
cotton
.
We
know
.
We
’
ve
got
to
take
cotton
quick
before
the
land
dies
.
Then
we
’
ll
sell
the
land
.
Lots
of
families
in
the
East
would
like
to
own
a
piece
of
land
.
The
tenant
men
looked
up
alarmed
.
But
what
’
ll
happen
to
us
?
How
’
ll
we
eat
?
