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- Рэй Брэдбери
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"
Go
sit
down
,
"
said
Grandma
.
"
Why
,
Grandma
,
think
how
it
’
d
help
your
cooking
.
You
’
re
a
wonderful
cook
,
it
’
s
true
,
but
if
you
’
re
this
good
in
all
this
chaos
—
pure
chaos
—
why
,
think
how
fine
you
’
d
be
,
once
things
were
put
where
you
could
lay
hands
on
them
.
"
"
I
never
thought
of
that
.
.
.
"
said
Grandma
.
"
Think
on
it
,
then
.
Say
,
for
instance
,
modern
kitchen
methods
helped
you
improve
your
cooking
just
ten
or
fifteen
per
cent
.
Your
menfolk
are
already
pure
animal
at
the
table
.
This
time
next
week
they
’
ll
be
dying
like
flies
from
overeating
.
Food
so
pretty
and
fine
they
won
’
t
be
able
to
stop
the
knife
and
fork
.
"
"
You
really
think
so
?
"
said
Grandma
,
beginning
to
be
interested
.
"
Grandma
,
don
’
t
give
in
!
"
whispered
Douglas
to
the
Library
wall
.
But
to
his
horror
he
heard
them
sweeping
and
dusting
,
throwing
out
half
-
empty
sacks
,
pasting
new
labels
on
cans
,
putting
dishes
and
pots
and
pans
in
drawers
that
had
stood
empty
for
years
.
Even
the
knives
,
which
had
lain
like
a
catch
of
silvery
fish
on
the
kitchen
tables
,
were
dumped
into
boxes
.
Grandfather
had
been
listening
behind
Douglas
for
a
full
five
minutes
.
Somewhat
uneasily
he
scratched
his
chin
.
"
Now
that
I
think
of
it
,
that
kitchen
’
s
been
a
mess
right
on
down
the
line
.
Things
need
a
little
arrangement
,
no
doubt
.
And
if
what
Aunt
Rose
claims
is
true
,
Doug
boy
,
it
’
ll
be
a
rare
experience
at
supper
tomorrow
night
.
"
"
Yes
,
sir
,
"
said
Douglas
.
"
A
rare
experience
.
"
"
What
’
s
that
?
"
asked
Grandma
.
