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- 451 по фаренгейту
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Once
as
a
child
he
had
sat
upon
a
yellow
dune
by
the
sea
in
the
middle
of
the
blue
and
hot
summer
day
,
trying
to
fill
a
sieve
with
sand
,
because
some
cruel
cousin
had
said
,
"
Fill
this
sieve
and
you
'll
get
a
dime
!
"
And
the
faster
he
poured
,
the
faster
it
sifted
through
with
a
hot
whispering
.
His
hands
were
tired
,
the
sand
was
boiling
,
the
sieve
was
empty
.
Seated
there
in
the
midst
of
July
,
without
a
sound
,
he
felt
the
tears
move
down
his
cheeks
.
Now
as
the
vacuum-underground
rushed
him
through
the
dead
cellars
of
town
,
jolting
him
,
he
remembered
the
terrible
logic
of
that
sieve
,
and
he
looked
down
and
saw
that
he
was
carrying
the
Bible
open
.
There
were
people
in
the
suction
train
but
he
held
the
book
in
his
hands
and
the
silly
thought
came
to
him
,
if
you
read
fast
and
read
all
,
maybe
some
of
the
sand
will
stay
in
the
sieve
.
But
he
read
and
the
words
fell
through
,
and
he
thought
,
in
a
few
hours
,
there
will
be
Beatty
,
and
here
will
be
me
handing
this
over
,
so
no
phrase
must
escape
me
,
each
line
must
be
memorized
.
I
will
myself
to
do
it
.
He
clenched
the
book
in
his
fists
.
Trumpets
blared
.
"
Denham
's
Dentrifice
.
"
Shut
up
,
thought
Montag
.
Consider
the
lilies
of
the
field
.
"
Denham
's
Dentifrice
.
"
They
toil
not
--
"
Denham
's
--
"
