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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 53/927
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Scarlett
knew
her
mother
cared
nothing
at
all
about
war
and
politics
and
thought
them
masculine
matters
about
which
no
lady
could
intelligently
concern
herself
.
But
it
gave
Gerald
pleasure
to
air
his
views
,
and
Ellen
was
unfailingly
thoughtful
of
her
husband
's
pleasure
.
While
Gerald
launched
forth
on
his
news
,
Mammy
set
the
plates
before
her
mistress
,
golden-topped
biscuits
,
breast
of
fried
chicken
and
a
yellow
yam
open
and
steaming
,
with
melted
butter
dripping
from
it
.
Mammy
pinched
small
Jack
,
and
he
hastened
to
his
business
of
slowly
swishing
the
paper
ribbons
back
and
forth
behind
Ellen
.
Mammy
stood
beside
the
table
,
watching
every
forkful
that
traveled
from
plate
to
mouth
,
as
though
she
intended
to
force
the
food
down
Ellen
's
throat
should
she
see
signs
of
flagging
.
Ellen
ate
diligently
,
but
Scarlett
could
see
that
she
was
too
tired
to
know
what
she
was
eating
.
Only
Mammy
's
implacable
face
forced
her
to
it
.
When
the
dish
was
empty
and
Gerald
only
midway
in
his
remarks
on
the
thievishness
of
Yankees
who
wanted
to
free
darkies
and
yet
offered
no
penny
to
pay
for
their
freedom
,
Ellen
rose
.
"
We
'll
be
having
prayers
?
"
he
questioned
,
reluctantly
.
"
Yes
.
It
is
so
late
--
why
,
it
is
actually
ten
o'clock
,
"
as
the
clock
with
coughing
and
tinny
thumps
marked
the
hour
.
"
Carreen
should
have
been
asleep
long
ago
.
The
lamp
,
please
,
Pork
,
and
my
prayer
book
,
Mammy
.
"
Prompted
by
Mammy
's
hoarse
whisper
,
Jack
set
his
fly-brush
in
the
corner
and
removed
the
dishes
,
while
Mammy
fumbled
in
the
sideboard
drawer
for
Ellen
's
worn
prayer
book
.
Pork
,
tiptoeing
,
reached
the
ring
in
the
chain
and
drew
the
lamp
slowly
down
until
the
table
top
was
brightly
bathed
in
light
and
the
ceiling
receded
into
shadows
.
Ellen
arranged
her
skirts
and
sank
to
the
floor
on
her
knees
,
laying
the
open
prayer
book
on
the
table
before
her
and
clasping
her
hands
upon
it
.
Gerald
knelt
beside
her
,
and
Scarlett
and
Suellen
took
their
accustomed
places
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
table
,
folding
their
voluminous
petticoats
in
pads
under
their
knees
,
so
they
would
ache
less
from
contact
with
the
hard
floor
.
Carreen
,
who
was
small
for
her
age
,
could
not
kneel
comfortably
at
the
table
and
so
knelt
facing
a
chair
,
her
elbows
on
the
seat
.
She
liked
this
position
,
for
she
seldom
failed
to
go
to
sleep
during
prayers
and
,
in
this
postures
it
escaped
her
mother
's
notice
.
The
house
servants
shuffled
and
rustled
in
the
hall
to
kneel
by
the
doorway
,
Mammy
groaning
aloud
as
she
sank
down
,
Pork
straight
as
a
ramrod
,
Rosa
and
Teena
,
the
maids
,
graceful
in
their
spreading
bright
calicoes
,
Cookie
gaunt
and
yellow
beneath
her
snowy
head
rag
,
and
Jack
,
stupid
with
sleep
,
as
far
away
from
Mammy
's
pinching
fingers
as
possible
.
Their
dark
eyes
gleamed
expectantly
,
for
praying
with
their
white
folks
was
one
of
the
events
of
the
day
.
The
old
and
colorful
phrases
of
the
litany
with
its
Oriental
imagery
meant
little
to
them
but
it
satisfied
something
in
their
hearts
,
and
they
always
swayed
when
they
chanted
the
responses
:
"
Lord
,
have
mercy
on
us
,
"
"
Christ
,
have
mercy
on
us
.
"
Ellen
closed
her
eyes
and
began
praying
,
her
voice
rising
and
falling
,
lulling
and
soothing
.
Heads
bowed
in
the
circle
of
yellow
light
as
Ellen
thanked
God
for
the
health
and
happiness
of
her
home
,
her
family
and
her
negroes
.
When
she
had
finished
her
prayers
for
those
beneath
the
roof
of
Tara
,
her
father
,
mother
,
sisters
,
three
dead
babies
and
"
all
the
poor
souls
in
Purgatory
,
"
she
clasped
her
white
beads
between
long
fingers
and
began
the
Rosary
.
Like
the
rushing
of
a
soft
wind
,
the
responses
from
black
throats
and
white
throats
rolled
back
:
