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- Джон Стейнбек
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«
An
’
leave
the
fambly
?
»
Tom
asked
.
«
Sure
.
I
’
d
come
back
with
my
jeans
plumb
fulla
jack
.
Why
not
?
»
«
Ma
ain
’
t
gonna
like
no
such
thing
,
"
Tom
said
.
«
An
’
Pa
,
he
ain
’
t
gonna
like
it
neither
.
»
Floyd
set
the
nuts
and
screwed
them
down
as
far
as
he
could
with
his
fingers
.
«
Me
an
’
my
wife
come
out
with
our
folks
,
"
he
said
.
«
Back
home
we
wouldn
’
of
thought
of
goin
’
away
.
Wouldn
’
of
thought
of
it
.
But
,
hell
,
we
was
all
up
north
a
piece
and
I
come
down
here
,
an
’
they
moved
on
,
an
’
now
God
knows
where
they
are
.
Been
lookin
’
an
’
askin
’
about
’
em
ever
since
.
»
He
fitted
his
wrench
to
the
enginehead
bolts
and
turned
them
down
evenly
,
one
turn
to
each
nut
,
around
and
around
the
series
.
»
Tom
squatted
down
beside
the
car
and
squinted
his
eyes
up
the
line
of
tents
.
A
little
stubble
was
beaten
into
the
earth
between
the
tents
.
«
No
,
sir
,
"
he
said
,
«
Ma
ain
’
t
gonna
like
you
goin
’
off
.
»
«
Well
,
seems
to
me
a
lone
fella
got
more
chance
of
work
.
»
«
Maybe
,
but
Ma
ain
’
t
gonna
like
it
at
all
.
»
Two
cars
loaded
with
disconsolate
men
drove
down
into
the
camp
.
Floyd
lifted
his
eyes
,
but
he
didn
’
t
ask
them
about
their
luck
.
Their
dusty
faces
were
sad
and
resistant
.
The
sun
was
sinking
now
,
and
the
yellow
sunlight
fell
on
the
Hooverville
and
on
the
willows
behind
it
.
The
children
began
to
come
out
of
the
tents
,
to
wander
about
the
camp
.
And
from
the
tents
the
women
came
and
built
their
little
fires
.
The
men
gathered
in
squatting
groups
and
talked
together
.
A
new
Chevrolet
coupe
turned
off
the
highway
and
headed
down
into
the
camp
.
It
pulled
to
the
center
of
the
camp
,
Tom
said
,
«
Who
’
s
this
?
They
don
’
t
belong
here
.
»
