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- Джон Стейнбек
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«
Look
,
"
the
young
man
said
.
«
S
’
pose
you
got
a
job
a
work
,
an
’
there
’
s
jus
’
one
fella
wants
the
job
.
You
got
to
pay
’
im
what
he
asts
.
But
s
’
pose
they
’
s
a
hunderd
men
.
»
He
put
down
his
tool
.
His
eyes
hardened
and
his
voice
sharpened
.
«
S
’
pose
they
’
s
a
hunderd
men
wants
that
job
.
S
’
pose
them
men
got
kids
,
an
’
them
kids
is
hungry
.
S
’
pose
a
lousy
dime
’
ll
buy
a
box
a
mush
for
them
kids
.
S
’
pose
a
nickel
’
ll
buy
at
leas
’
somepin
for
them
kids
.
An
’
you
got
a
hunderd
men
.
Jus
’
offer
’
em
a
nickel
—
why
,
they
’
ll
kill
each
other
fightin
’
for
that
nickel
.
Know
what
they
was
payin
’
las
’
job
I
had
?
Fifteen
cents
an
hour
.
Ten
hours
for
a
dollar
an
’
a
half
,
an
’
ya
can
’
t
stay
on
the
place
.
Got
to
burn
gasoline
gettin
’
there
.
»
He
was
panting
with
anger
,
and
his
eyes
blazed
with
hate
.
«
That
’
s
why
them
han
’
bills
was
out
.
You
can
print
a
hell
of
a
lot
of
han
’
bills
with
what
ya
save
payin
’
fifteen
cents
an
hour
for
fiel
’
work
.
»
Tom
said
,
«
That
’
s
stinkin
’
.
»
The
young
man
laughed
harshly
.
«
You
stay
out
here
a
little
while
,
an
’
if
you
smell
any
roses
,
you
come
let
me
smell
,
too
.
»
«
But
they
is
work
,
"
Tom
insisted
.
«
Christ
Almighty
,
with
all
this
stuff
a
-
growin
’
:
orchards
,
grapes
,
vegetables
—
I
seen
it
.
They
got
to
have
men
.
I
seen
all
that
stuff
.
»
A
child
cried
in
the
tent
beside
the
car
.
The
young
man
went
into
the
tent
and
his
voice
came
softly
through
the
canvas
.
Tom
picked
up
the
brace
,
fitted
it
in
the
slot
of
the
valve
,
and
ground
away
,
his
hand
whipping
back
and
forth
.
The
child
’
s
crying
stopped
.
The
young
man
came
out
and
watched
Tom
.
«
You
can
do
her
,
"
he
said
.
«
Damn
good
thing
.
You
’
ll
need
to
.
»
«
How
’
bout
what
I
said
?
»
Tom
resumed
.
«
I
seen
all
the
stuff
growin
’
.
»
The
young
man
squatted
on
his
heels
.
«
I
’
ll
tell
ya
,
"
he
said
quietly
.
«
They
’
s
a
big
son
-
of
-
a
-
bitch
of
a
peach
orchard
I
worked
in
.
Takes
nine
men
all
the
year
roun
’
.
»
He
paused
impressively
.
«
Takes
three
thousan
’
men
for
two
weeks
when
them
peaches
is
ripe
.
Got
to
have
’
em
or
them
peaches
’
ll
rot
.
So
what
do
they
do
?
They
send
out
han
’
bills
all
over
hell
.
They
need
three
thousan
’
,
an
’
they
get
six
thousan
’
.
They
get
them
men
for
what
they
wanta
pay
.
If
ya
don
’
t
wanta
take
what
they
pay
,
goddamn
it
,
they
’
s
a
thousan
’
men
waitin
’
for
your
job
.
So
ya
pick
,
an
’
ya
pick
,
an
’
then
she
’
s
done
.
Whole
part
a
the
country
’
s
peaches
.
All
ripe
together
.
When
ya
get
’
em
picked
,
ever
’
goddamn
one
is
picked
.
There
ain
’
t
another
damn
thing
in
that
part
a
the
country
to
do
.
An
’
them
owners
don
’
want
you
there
no
more
.
Three
thousan
’
of
you
.
The
work
’
s
done
.
You
might
steal
,
you
might
get
drunk
,
you
might
jus
’
raise
hell
.
An
’
besides
,
you
don
’
look
nice
,
livin
’
in
ol
’
tents
;
an
’
it
’
s
a
pretty
country
,
but
you
stink
it
up
.
They
don
’
want
you
aroun
’
.
So
they
kick
you
out
,
they
move
you
along
.
That
’
s
how
it
is
.
»
Tom
,
looking
down
toward
the
Joad
tent
,
saw
his
mother
,
heavy
and
slow
with
weariness
,
build
a
little
trash
fire
and
put
the
cooking
pots
over
the
flame
.
The
circle
of
children
drew
closer
,
and
the
calm
wide
eyes
of
the
children
watched
every
move
of
Ma
’
s
hands
.
An
old
,
old
man
with
a
bent
back
came
like
a
badger
out
of
a
tent
and
snooped
near
,
sniffing
the
air
as
he
came
.
He
laced
his
arms
behind
him
and
joined
the
children
to
watch
Ma
.
Ruthie
and
Winfield
stood
near
to
Ma
and
eyed
the
strangers
belligerently
.
