Гроздья гнева

           Pasaid,"Weseenthemhan’bills.Igotonerighthere."Hetookouthispurseandfromittookafoldedorangehandbill.Inblacktypeitsaid,"PeaPickersWantedinCalifornia.GoodWagesAllSeason.800PickersWanted."

           Wilsonlookedatitcuriously."Why,that’stheoneIseen.Theverysameone.Yous’pose—maybetheygotalleighthunderdawready?"

           Pasaid,"Thisisjus’onelittlepartaCalifornia.Why,that’sthesecon’biggestStatewegot.S’posetheydidgetallthemeighthunderd.They’splentyplaceselse.Iratherpickfruitanyways.Likeyousays,underthemtreesan’pickin’fruit—why,eventhekids’dliketodothat."

           SuddenlyAlgotupandwalkedtotheWilsons’touringcar.Helookedinforamomentandthencamebackandsatdown.

           "Youcan’tfixhertonight,"Wilsonsaid.

           "Iknow.I’llgettoherinthemorning."Tomhadwatchedhisyoungbrothercarefully."Iwasthinkin’somepinlikethatmyself,"hesaid.

           Noahasked,"Whatyoutwofellastalkin’about?"

           TomandAlwentsilent,eachwaitingfortheother."Youtell’em,"Alsaidfinally.

           "Well,maybeit’snogood,an’maybeitain’tthesamethingAl’sthinking.Heresheis,anyways.Wegotaoverload,butMr.andMis’Wilsonain’t.Ifsomeofusfolkscouldridewiththeman’takesomeatheirlightstuffinthetruck,wewouldn’tbreaknospringsan’wecouldgituphills.An’mean’Albothknowsaboutacar,sowecouldkeepthatcara-rollin’.