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- Джон Стейнбек
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Tom
said
,
"
Ma
,
what
stuff
we
gonna
take
from
here
?
"
She
looked
quickly
about
the
kitchen
.
"
The
bucket
,
"
she
said
.
"
All
the
stuff
to
eat
with
:
plates
an
’
the
cups
,
the
spoons
an
’
knives
an
’
forks
.
Put
all
them
in
that
drawer
,
an
’
take
the
drawer
.
The
big
fry
pan
an
’
the
big
stew
kettle
,
the
coffee
pot
.
When
it
gets
cool
,
take
the
rack
outa
the
oven
.
That
’
s
good
over
a
fire
.
I
’
d
like
to
take
the
wash
tub
,
but
I
guess
there
ain
’
t
room
.
I
’
ll
wash
clothes
in
the
bucket
.
Don
’
t
do
no
good
to
take
little
stuff
.
You
can
cook
little
stuff
in
a
big
kettle
,
but
you
can
’
t
cook
big
stuff
in
a
little
pot
.
Take
the
bread
pans
,
all
of
’
em
.
They
fit
down
inside
each
other
.
"
She
stood
and
looked
about
the
kitchen
.
"
You
jus
’
take
that
stuff
I
tol
’
you
,
Tom
.
I
’
ll
fix
up
the
rest
,
the
big
can
a
pepper
an
’
the
salt
an
’
the
nutmeg
an
’
the
grater
.
I
’
ll
take
all
that
stuff
jus
’
at
the
last
.
"
She
picked
up
a
lantern
and
walked
heavily
into
the
bedroom
,
and
her
bare
feet
made
no
sound
on
the
floor
.
The
preacher
said
,
"
She
looks
tar
’
d
.
"
"
Women
’
s
always
tar
’
d
,
"
said
Tom
.
"
That
’
s
just
the
way
women
is
,
’
cept
at
meetin
’
once
an
’
again
.
"
"
Yeah
,
but
tar
’
der
’
n
that
.
Real
tar
’
d
like
she
’
s
sick
-
tar
’
d
.
"
Ma
was
just
through
the
door
,
and
she
heard
his
words
.
Slowly
her
relaxed
face
tightened
,
and
the
lines
disappeared
from
the
taut
muscular
face
.
Her
eyes
sharpened
and
her
shoulders
straightened
.
She
glanced
about
the
stripped
room
.
Nothing
was
left
in
it
except
trash
.
The
mattresses
which
had
been
on
the
floor
were
gone
.
The
bureaus
were
sold
.
On
the
floor
lay
a
broken
comb
,
an
empty
talcum
powder
can
,
and
a
few
dust
mice
.
Ma
set
her
lantern
on
the
floor
.
She
reached
behind
one
of
the
boxes
that
had
served
as
chairs
and
brought
out
a
stationery
box
,
old
and
soiled
and
cracked
at
the
corners
.
She
sat
down
and
opened
the
box
.
Inside
were
letters
,
clippings
,
photographs
,
a
pair
of
earrings
,
a
little
gold
signet
ring
,
and
a
watch
chain
braided
of
hair
and
tipped
with
gold
swivels
.
She
touched
the
letters
with
her
fingers
,
touched
them
lightly
,
and
she
smoothed
a
newspaper
clipping
on
which
there
was
an
account
of
Tom
’
s
trial
.
For
a
long
time
she
held
the
box
,
looking
over
it
,
and
her
fingers
disturbed
the
letters
and
then
lined
them
up
again
.
She
bit
her
lower
lip
,
thinking
,
remembering
.
And
at
last
she
made
up
her
mind
.
She
picked
out
the
ring
,
the
watch
charm
,
the
earrings
,
dug
under
the
pile
and
found
one
gold
cuff
link
.
She
took
a
letter
from
an
envelope
and
dropped
the
trinkets
in
the
envelope
.
Then
gently
and
tenderly
she
closed
the
box
and
smoothed
the
top
carefully
with
her
fingers
.
Her
lips
parted
.
Then
she
stood
up
,
took
her
lantern
,
and
went
back
into
the
kitchen
.
She
lifted
the
stove
lid
and
laid
the
box
gently
among
the
coals
.
Quickly
the
heat
browned
the
paper
.
A
flame
licked
up
and
over
the
box
.
She
replaced
the
stove
lid
and
instantly
the
fire
sighed
up
and
breathed
over
the
box
.
OUT
IN
THE
DARK
YARD
,
working
in
the
lantern
light
,
Pa
and
Al
loaded
the
truck
.
Tools
on
the
bottom
,
but
handy
to
reach
in
case
of
a
breakdown
.
Boxes
of
clothes
next
,
and
kitchen
utensils
in
a
gunny
sack
;
cutlery
and
dishes
in
their
box
.
Then
the
gallon
bucket
tied
on
behind
.
They
made
the
bottom
of
the
load
as
even
as
possible
,
and
filled
the
spaces
between
boxes
with
rolled
blankets
.
Then
over
the
top
they
laid
the
mattresses
,
filling
the
truck
in
level
.
And
last
they
spread
the
big
tarpaulin
over
the
load
and
Al
made
holes
in
the
edge
,
two
feet
apart
,
and
inserted
little
ropes
,
and
tied
it
down
to
the
side
-
bars
of
the
truck
.
