Гроздья гнева
Chapter 23
An’themoon’llbeup’forelong.
Playmore—playthestorysongs—"AsIWalkedthroughtheStreetsofLaredo.»Thefire’sgonedown.Beashametobuildherup.Littleol’moon’llbeup’forelong.
Besideanirrigationditchapreacherlaboredandthepeoplecried.Andthepreacherpacedlikeatiger,whippingthepeoplewithhisvoice,andtheygroveledandwhinedontheground.Hecalculatedthem,gaugedthem,playedonthem,andwhentheywereallsquirmingonthegroundhestoopeddownandofhisgreatstrengthhepickedeachoneupinhisarmsandshouted.Take’em,Christ!andthreweachoneinthewater.Andwhentheywereallin,waistdeepinthewater,andlookingwithfrightenedeyesatthemaster,hekneltdownonthebankandheprayedforthem;andheprayedthatallmenandwomenmightgrovelandwhineontheground.Menandwomen,dripping,clothesstickingtight,watched;thengurglingandsloshingintheirshoestheywalkedbacktothecamp,tothetents,andtheytalkedsoftlyinwonder:
Webeensaved,theysaid.We’rewashedwhiteassnow.Wewon’tneversinagain.
Andthechildren,frightenedandwet,whisperedtogether:
Webeensaved.Wewon’tsinnomore.
WishtIknowedwhatallthesinswas,soIcoulddo’em.
Themigrantpeoplelookedhumblyforpleasureontheroads.
