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- Джон Стейнбек
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- Гроздья гнева
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They
started
again
,
and
this
time
they
handled
the
fruit
gently
.
The
boxes
filled
more
slowly
.
«
We
could
figger
somepin
out
,
I
bet
,
"
Tom
said
.
«
If
Ruthie
an
’
Winfiel
’
or
Rosasharn
jus
’
put
’
em
in
the
boxes
,
we
could
work
out
a
system
.
»
He
carried
his
newest
box
to
the
station
.
«
Is
this
here
worth
a
nickel
?
»
The
checker
looked
them
over
,
dug
down
several
layers
.
«
That
’
s
better
,
"
he
said
.
He
checked
the
box
in
.
«
Just
take
it
easy
.
»
Tom
hurried
back
.
«
I
got
a
nickel
,
"
he
called
.
«
I
got
a
nickel
.
On
’
y
got
to
do
that
there
twenty
times
for
a
dollar
.
»
They
worked
on
steadily
through
the
afternoon
.
Ruthie
and
Winfield
found
them
after
a
while
.
«
You
got
to
work
,
"
Pa
told
them
.
«
You
got
to
put
the
peaches
careful
in
the
box
.
Here
,
now
,
one
at
a
time
.
»
The
children
squatted
down
and
picked
the
peaches
out
of
the
extra
bucket
,
and
a
line
of
buckets
stood
ready
for
them
.
Tom
carried
the
full
boxes
to
the
station
.
«
That
’
s
seven
,
"
he
said
.
«
That
’
s
eight
.
Forty
cents
we
got
.
Get
a
nice
piece
of
meat
for
forty
cents
.
»
The
afternoon
passed
.
Ruthie
tried
to
go
away
.
«
I
’
m
tar
’
d
,
"
she
whined
.
«
I
got
to
rest
.
»
«
You
got
to
stay
right
where
you
’
re
at
,
"
said
Pa
.
Uncle
John
picked
slowly
.
He
filled
one
bucket
to
two
of
Tom
’
s
.
His
pace
didn
’
t
change
.
In
mid
-
afternoon
Ma
came
trudging
out
.
«
I
would
a
come
before
,
but
Rosasharn
fainted
,
"
she
said
.
«
Jes
’
fainted
away
.
»
«
You
been
eatin
’
peaches
,
"
she
said
to
the
children
.
«
Well
,
they
’
ll
blast
you
out
.
»
Ma
’
s
stubby
body
moved
quickly
.
She
abandoned
her
bucket
quickly
and
picked
into
her
apron
.
When
the
sun
went
down
they
had
picked
twenty
boxes
.
Tom
set
the
twentieth
box
down
.
«
A
buck
,
"
he
said
.
«
How
long
do
we
work
?
»
