Загадочная история Бенджамина Баттона

           Peoplewouldstoptospeaktohim,andwhatwashegoingtosay?Hewouldhavetointroducethis—thisseptuagenarian:"Thisismyson,bornearlythismorning."Andthentheoldmanwouldgatherhisblanketaroundhimandtheywouldplodon,pastthebustlingstores,theslavemarket—foradarkinstantMr.Buttonwishedpassionatelythathissonwasblack—pasttheluxurioushousesoftheresidentialdistrict,pastthehomefortheaged....

           "Come!Pullyourselftogether,"commandedthenurse.

           "Seehere,"theoldmanannouncedsuddenly,"ifyouthinkI’mgoingtowalkhomeinthisblanket,you’reentirelymistaken."

           "Babiesalwayshaveblankets."

           Withamaliciouscrackletheoldmanheldupasmallwhiteswaddlinggarment."Look!"hequavered."Thisiswhattheyhadreadyforme."

           "Babiesalwayswearthose,"saidthenurseprimly.

           "Well,"saidtheoldman,"thisbaby’snotgoingtowearanythinginabouttwominutes.Thisblanketitches.Theymightatleasthavegivenmeasheet."

           "Keepiton!Keepiton!"saidMr.Buttonhurriedly.Heturnedtothenurse."What’llIdo?"

           "Godowntownandbuyyoursonsomeclothes."

           Mr.Button’sson’svoicefollowedhimdownintothe:hall:"Andacane,father.Iwanttohaveacane."

           Mr.Buttonbangedtheouterdoorsavagely....