-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Кен Кизи
-
- Пролетая над гнездом кукушки
-
- Стр. 5/246
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Mighty
nice
fall
day
.
"
He
talks
a
little
the
way
Papa
used
to
,
voice
loud
and
full
of
hell
,
but
he
does
n't
look
like
Papa
;
Papa
was
a
full-blood
Columbia
Indian
--
a
chief
--
and
hard
and
shiny
as
a
gunstock
.
This
guy
is
redheaded
with
long
red
sideburns
and
a
tangle
of
curls
out
from
under
his
cap
,
been
needing
cut
a
long
time
,
and
he
's
broad
as
Papa
was
tall
,
broad
across
the
jaw
and
shoulders
and
chest
,
a
broad
white
devilish
grin
,
and
he
's
hard
in
a
different
kind
of
way
from
Papa
,
kind
of
the
way
a
baseball
is
hard
under
the
scuffed
leather
.
A
seam
runs
across
his
nose
and
one
cheekbone
where
somebody
laid
him
a
good
one
in
a
fight
,
and
the
stitches
are
still
in
the
seam
.
He
stands
there
waiting
,
and
when
nobody
makes
a
move
to
say
anything
to
him
he
commences
to
laugh
.
Nobody
can
tell
exactly
why
he
laughs
;
there
's
nothing
funny
going
on
.
But
it
's
not
the
way
that
Public
Relation
laughs
,
it
's
free
and
loud
and
it
comes
out
of
his
wide
grinning
mouth
and
spreads
in
rings
bigger
and
bigger
till
it
's
lapping
against
the
walls
all
over
the
ward
.
Not
like
that
fat
Public
Relation
laugh
.
This
sounds
real
.
I
realize
all
of
a
sudden
it
's
the
first
laugh
I
've
heard
in
years
.
He
stands
looking
at
us
,
rocking
back
in
his
boots
,
and
he
laughs
and
laughs
.
He
laces
his
fingers
over
his
belly
without
taking
his
thumbs
out
of
his
pockets
.
I
see
how
big
and
beat
up
his
hands
are
.
Everybody
on
the
ward
,
patients
,
staff
,
and
all
,
is
stunned
dumb
by
him
and
his
laughing
.
There
's
no
move
to
stop
him
,
no
move
to
say
anything
.
He
laughs
till
he
's
finished
for
a
time
,
and
he
walks
on
into
the
day
room
.
Even
when
he
is
n't
laughing
,
that
laughing
sound
hovers
around
him
,
the
way
the
sound
hovers
around
a
big
bell
just
quit
ringing
--
it
's
in
his
eyes
,
in
the
way
he
smiles
and
swaggers
,
in
the
way
he
talks
.
"
My
name
is
McMurphy
,
buddies
,
R.
P.
McMurphy
,
and
I
'm
a
gambling
fool
.
"
He
winks
and
sings
a
little
piece
of
a
song
:
"
'
...
and
whenever
I
meet
with
a
deck
a
cards
I
lays
...
my
money
...
down
,
'
"
and
laughs
again
.
He
walks
to
one
of
the
card
games
,
tips
an
Acute
's
cards
up
with
a
thick
,
heavy
finger
,
and
squints
at
the
hand
and
shakes
his
head
.
"
Yessir
,
that
's
what
I
came
to
this
establishment
for
,
to
bring
you
birds
fun
an
'
entertainment
around
the
gamin
'
table
.
Nobody
left
in
that
Pendleton
Work
Farm
to
make
my
days
interesting
any
more
,
so
I
requested
a
transfer
,
ya
see
.
Needed
some
new
blood
.
Hooee
,
look
at
the
way
this
bird
holds
his
cards
,
showin
'
to
everybody
in
a
block
;
man
!
I
'll
trim
you
babies
like
little
lambs
.
"
Cheswick
gathers
his
cards
together
.
The
redheaded
man
sticks
his
hand
out
for
Cheswick
to
shake
.
"
Hello
,
buddy
;
what
's
that
you
're
playin
'
?
Pinochle
?
Jesus
,
no
wonder
you
do
n't
care
nothin
'
about
showing
your
hand
.
Do
n't
you
have
a
straight
deck
around
here
?
Well
say
,
here
we
go
,
I
brought
along
my
own
deck
,
just
in
case
,
has
something
in
it
other
than
face
cards
--
and
check
the
pictures
,
huh
?
Every
one
different
.
Fifty-two
positions
.
"
Cheswick
is
pop-eyed
already
,
and
what
he
sees
on
those
cards
do
n't
help
his
condition
.
