О мышах и людях

           Hisauthoritywassogreatthathiswordwastakenonanysubject,beitpoliticsorlove.ThiswasSlim,thejerklineskinner.Hishatchetfacewasageless.Hemighthavebeenthirty-fiveorfifty.Hisearheardmorethanwassaidtohim,andhisslowspeechhadovertonesnotofthought,butofunderstandingbeyondthought.Hishands,largeandlean,wereasdelicateintheiractionasthoseofatempledancer.

           Hesmoothedouthiscrushedhat,creaseditinthemiddleandputiton.Helookedkindlyatthetwointhebunkhouse.«It’sbrighter’nabitchoutside,"hesaidgently.«Can’thardlyseenothinginhere.Youthenewguys?»

           «Justcome,"saidGeorge.

           «Gonnabuckbarley?»

           «That’swhatthebosssays.»

           SlimsatdownonaboxacrossthetablefromGeorge.Hestudiedthesolitairehandthatwasupsidedowntohim.«Hopeyougetonmyteam,"hesaid.Hisvoicewasverygentle.«Igottapairofpunksonmyteamthatdon’tknowabarleybagfromablueball.Youguyseverbuckedanybarley?»

           «Hell,yes,"saidGeorge.«Iain’tnothingtoscreamabout,butthatbigbastardtherecanputupmoregrainalonethanmostpairscan.»

           Lennie,whohadbeenfollowingtheconversationbackandforthwithhiseyes,smiledcomplacentlyatthecompliment.SlimlookedapprovinglyatGeorgeforhavinggiventhecompliment.Heleanedoverthetableandsnappedthecornerofaloosecard.«Youguystravelaroundtogether?»Histonewasfriendly.Itinvitedconfidencewithoutdemandingit.