Гроздья гнева

           Iseenhimwhenhewouldn’ttalktonobodybefore."

           Casysaidgently,"Heain’tsulkin’,Granma.He’ssick."

           "Oh!"Shelookeddownattheoldmanagain."Sickbad,youthink?"

           "Purtybad,Granma."

           Foramomentshehesitateduncertainly."Well,"shesaidquickly,"whyain’tyouprayin’?You’reapreacher,ain’tyou?"

           Casy’sstrongfingersblunderedovertoGrampa’swristandclaspedaroundit."Itol’you,Granma.Iain’tapreachernomore."

           "Prayanyway,"sheordered."Youknowallthestuffbyheart."

           "Ican’t,"saidCasy."Idon’tknowwhattoprayfororwhotoprayto."

           Granma’seyeswanderedawayandcametorestonSairy."Hewon’tpray,"shesaid."D’IevertellyahowRuthieprayedwhenshewasalittleskinner?Says,’NowIlaymedowntosleep.IpraytheLordmysoultokeep.An’whenshegottherethecupboardwasbare,an’sothepoordoggotnone.Amen.’That’sjus’whatshedone."Theshadowofsomeonewalkingbetweenthetentandthesuncrossedthecanvas.

           Grampaseemedtobestruggling;allhismusclestwitched.Andsuddenlyhejarredasthoughunderaheavyblow.Helaystillandhisbreathwasstopped.Casylookeddownattheoldman’sfaceandsawthatitwasturningablackishpurple.SairytouchedCasy’sshoulder.Shewhispered,"Histongue,histongue,histongue."

           Casynodded."GetinfrontaGranma."Hepriedthetightjawsapartandreachedintotheoldman’sthroatforthetongue.