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- Джон Стейнбек
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- Гроздья гнева
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Tom
walked
up
the
dusty
road
and
crossed
the
concrete
highway
to
the
little
grocery
store
.
He
stood
in
front
of
the
screen
door
and
looked
in
.
The
proprietor
,
a
little
gray
man
with
an
unkempt
mustache
and
watery
eyes
,
leaned
on
the
counter
reading
a
newspaper
.
His
thin
arms
were
bare
and
he
wore
a
long
white
apron
.
Heaped
around
and
in
back
of
him
were
mounds
,
pyramids
,
walls
of
canned
goods
.
He
looked
up
when
Tom
came
in
,
and
his
eyes
narrowed
as
though
he
aimed
a
shotgun
.
«
Good
evening
,
"
he
said
.
«
Run
out
of
something
?
»
«
Run
out
of
my
uncle
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
Or
he
run
out
,
or
something
.
»
The
gray
man
looked
puzzled
and
worried
at
the
same
time
.
He
touched
the
tip
of
his
nose
tenderly
and
waggled
it
around
to
stop
an
itch
.
«
Seems
like
you
people
always
lost
somebody
,
"
he
said
.
«
Ten
times
a
day
or
more
somebody
comes
in
here
an
’
says
,
’
If
you
see
a
man
named
so
an
’
so
,
an
’
looks
like
so
an
’
so
,
will
you
tell
’
im
we
went
up
north
?
’
Somepin
like
that
all
the
time
.
»
Tom
laughed
.
«
Well
,
if
you
see
a
young
snot
-
nose
name
’
Connie
,
looks
a
little
bit
like
a
coyote
,
tell
’
im
to
go
to
hell
.
We
’
ve
went
south
.
But
he
ain
’
t
the
fella
I
’
m
lookin
’
for
.
Did
a
fella
’
bout
sixty
years
ol
’
,
black
pants
,
sort
of
grayish
hair
,
come
in
here
an
’
get
some
whisky
?
»
The
eyes
of
the
gray
man
brightened
.
«
Now
he
sure
did
.
I
never
seen
anything
like
it
.
He
stood
out
front
an
’
he
dropped
his
hat
an
’
stepped
on
it
.
Here
,
I
got
his
hat
here
.
»
He
brought
the
dusty
broken
hat
from
under
the
counter
.
Tom
took
it
from
him
.
«
That
’
s
him
,
all
right
.
»
«
Well
,
sir
,
he
got
couple
pints
of
whisky
an
’
he
didn
’
say
a
thing
.
He
pulled
the
cork
an
’
tipped
up
the
bottle
.
I
ain
’
t
got
a
license
to
drink
here
.
I
says
,
’
Look
,
you
can
’
t
drink
here
.
You
got
to
go
outside
.
’
Well
,
sir
!
He
jes
’
stepped
outside
the
door
,
an
’
I
bet
he
didn
’
t
tilt
up
that
pint
more
’
n
four
times
till
it
was
empty
.
He
throwed
it
away
an
’
he
leaned
in
the
door
.
Eyes
kinda
dull
.
He
says
,
’
Thank
you
,
sir
,
’
an
’
he
went
on
.
I
never
seen
no
drinkin
’
like
that
in
my
life
.
»
«
Went
on
?
Which
way
?
I
got
to
get
him
.
»
