Гроздья гнева

           Andinthesouthhesawthegoldenorangeshangingonthetrees,thelittlegoldenorangesinthedarkgreentrees;andguardswithshotgunspatrollingthelinessoamanmightnotpickanorangeforathinchild,orangestobedumpedifthepricewaslow.

           Hedrovehisoldcarintoatown.Hescouredthefarmsforwork.Wherecanwesleepthenight?Well,there’sHoovervilleontheedgeoftheriver.There’sawholeraftofOkiesthere.HedrovehisoldcartoHooverville.Heneveraskedagain,fortherewasaHoovervilleontheedgeofeverytown.

           Theragtownlayclosetowater;andthehousesweretents,andweed-thatchedenclosures,paperhouses,agreatjunkpile.ThemandrovehisfamilyinandbecameacitizenofHooverville—alwaystheywerecalledHooverville.Themanputuphisowntentasneartowaterashecouldget;orifhehadnotent,hewenttothecitydumpandbroughtbackcartonsandbuiltahouseofcorrugatedpaper.Andwhentherainscamethehousemeltedandwashedaway.HesettledinHoovervilleandhescouredthecountrysideforwork,andthelittlemoneyhehadwentforgasolinetolookforwork.Intheeveningthemengatheredandtalkedtogether.Squattingontheirhamstheytalkedofthelandtheyhadseen.

           There’sthirtythousan’acres,outwestofhere.Layin’there.Jesus,whatIcoulddowiththat,withfiveacresofthat!Why,hell,I’dhaveever’thingtoeat.

           Noticeonething?Theyain’tnovegetablesnorchickensnorpigsatthefarms.Theyraiseonething—cotton,say,orpeaches,orlettuce.