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- Джон Стейнбек
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Well
,
maybe
we
could
get
a
little
piece
of
her
.
Maybe
—
a
little
piece
.
Right
down
there
—
a
patch
.
Jimson
weed
now
.
Christ
,
I
could
git
enough
potatoes
off
’
n
that
little
patch
to
feed
my
whole
family
!
It
ain
’
t
our
’
n
.
It
got
to
have
Jimson
weeds
.
Now
and
then
a
man
tried
;
crept
on
the
land
and
cleared
a
piece
,
trying
like
a
thief
to
steal
a
little
richness
from
the
earth
.
Secret
gardens
hidden
in
the
weeds
.
A
package
of
carrot
seeds
and
a
few
turnips
.
Planted
potato
skins
,
crept
out
in
the
evening
secretly
to
hoe
in
the
stolen
earth
.
Leave
the
weeds
around
the
edge
—
then
nobody
can
see
what
we
’
re
a
-
doin
’
.
Leave
some
weeds
,
big
tall
ones
,
in
the
middle
.
Secret
gardening
in
the
evenings
,
and
water
carried
in
a
rusty
can
.
And
then
one
day
a
deputy
sheriff
:
Well
,
what
you
think
you
’
re
doin
’
?
I
ain
’
t
doin
’
no
harm
.
I
had
my
eye
on
you
.
This
ain
’
t
your
land
.
You
’
re
trespassing
.
The
land
ain
’
t
plowed
,
an
’
I
ain
’
t
hurtin
’
it
none
.
You
goddamned
squatters
.
Pretty
soon
you
’
d
think
you
owned
it
.
You
’
d
be
sore
as
hell
.
Think
you
owned
it
.
Get
off
now
.
And
the
little
green
carrot
tops
were
kicked
off
and
the
turnip
greens
trampled
.
And
then
the
Jimson
weed
moved
back
in
.
But
the
cop
was
right
.
A
crop
raised
—
why
,
that
makes
ownership
.
Land
hoed
and
the
carrots
eaten
—
a
man
might
fight
for
land
he
’
s
taken
food
from
.
Get
him
off
quick
!
He
’
ll
think
he
owns
it
.
He
might
even
die
fighting
for
the
little
plot
among
the
Jimson
weeds
.
Did
ya
see
his
face
when
we
kicked
them
turnips
out
?
Why
,
he
’
d
kill
a
fella
soon
’
s
he
’
d
look
at
him
.
We
got
to
keep
these
here
people
down
or
they
’
ll
take
the
country
.
They
’
ll
take
the
country
.
