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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 111/416
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His
kindliness
toward
animals
was
the
same
.
A
horde
of
mange
-
corroded
curs
lived
off
his
bounty
,
wolfish
,
ungrateful
,
often
marking
him
with
their
teeth
,
yet
never
knowing
the
meaning
of
a
harsh
word
.
A
burro
,
over
-
fed
,
lazy
,
incorrigible
,
browsed
on
the
hill
back
of
the
Mission
,
obstinately
refusing
to
be
harnessed
to
Sarria
’
s
little
cart
,
squealing
and
biting
whenever
the
attempt
was
made
;
and
the
priest
suffered
him
,
submitting
to
his
humour
,
inventing
excuses
for
him
,
alleging
that
the
burro
was
foundered
,
or
was
in
need
of
shoes
,
or
was
feeble
from
extreme
age
.
The
two
peacocks
,
magnificent
,
proud
,
cold
-
hearted
,
resenting
all
familiarity
,
he
served
with
the
timorous
,
apologetic
affection
of
a
queen
’
s
lady
-
in
-
waiting
,
resigned
to
their
disdain
,
happy
if
only
they
condescended
to
enjoy
the
grain
he
spread
for
them
.
At
the
Long
Trestle
,
Annixter
and
the
priest
left
the
road
and
took
the
trail
that
crossed
Broderson
Creek
by
the
clumps
of
grey
-
green
willows
and
led
across
Quien
Sabe
to
the
ranch
house
,
and
to
the
Mission
farther
on
.
They
were
obliged
to
proceed
in
single
file
here
,
and
Annixter
,
who
had
allowed
the
priest
to
go
in
front
,
promptly
took
notice
of
the
wicker
basket
he
carried
.
Upon
his
inquiry
,
Sarria
became
confused
.
“
It
was
a
basket
that
he
had
had
sent
down
to
him
from
the
city
.
”
“
Well
,
I
know
—
but
what
’
s
in
it
?
”
“
Why
—
I
’
m
sure
—
ah
,
poultry
—
a
chicken
or
two
.
”
“
Fancy
breed
?
”
“
Yes
,
yes
,
that
’
s
it
,
a
fancy
breed
.
”
At
the
ranch
house
,
where
they
arrived
toward
five
o
’
clock
,
Annixter
insisted
that
the
priest
should
stop
long
enough
for
a
glass
of
sherry
.
Sarria
left
the
basket
and
his
small
black
valise
at
the
foot
of
the
porch
steps
,
and
sat
down
in
a
rocker
on
the
porch
itself
,
fanning
himself
with
his
broad
-
brimmed
hat
,
and
shaking
the
dust
from
his
cassock
.
Annixter
brought
out
the
decanter
of
sherry
and
glasses
,
and
the
two
drank
to
each
other
’
s
health
.
But
as
the
priest
set
down
his
glass
,
wiping
his
lips
with
a
murmur
of
satisfaction
,
the
decrepit
Irish
setter
that
had
attached
himself
to
Annixter
’
s
house
came
out
from
underneath
the
porch
,
and
nosed
vigorously
about
the
wicker
basket
.
He
upset
it
.
The
little
peg
holding
down
the
cover
slipped
,
the
basket
fell
sideways
,
opening
as
it
fell
,
and
a
cock
,
his
head
enclosed
in
a
little
chamois
bag
such
as
are
used
for
gold
watches
,
struggled
blindly
out
into
the
open
air
.
A
second
,
similarly
hooded
,
followed
.
The
pair
,
stupefied
in
their
headgear
,
stood
rigid
and
bewildered
in
their
tracks
,
clucking
uneasily
.
Their
tails
were
closely
sheared
.
Their
legs
,
thickly
muscled
,
and
extraordinarily
long
,
were
furnished
with
enormous
cruel
-
looking
spurs
.
The
breed
was
unmistakable
.
Annixter
looked
once
at
the
pair
,
then
shouted
with
laughter
.
“
’
Poultry
’
—
’
a
chicken
or
two
’
—
’
fancy
breed
’
—
ho
!
yes
,
I
should
think
so
.
Game
cocks
!
Fighting
cocks
!
Oh
,
you
old
rat
!
You
’
ll
be
a
dry
nurse
to
a
burro
,
and
keep
a
hospital
for
infirm
puppies
,
but
you
will
fight
game
cocks
.
Oh
,
Lord
!
Why
,
Sarria
,
this
is
as
good
a
grind
as
I
ever
heard
.
There
’
s
the
Spanish
cropping
out
,
after
all
.
”
