Уловка 22

Milo

           YossariancouldmakeoutMajorMajorbyhistoweringandlankyaloofnessandthoughtherecognizedMajorDanbymoppinghisbrowwithahandkerchief.MajorDanbyhadnotstoppedshakingsincehisrun-inwithGeneralDreedle.Therewerestrandsofenlistedmenmoldedinacurvearoundthethreeofficers,asinflexibleaslumpsofwood,andfouridlegravediggersinstreakedfatiguesloungingindifferentlyonspadesneartheshocking,incongruousheapofloosecopperredearth.AsYossarianstared,thechaplainelevatedhisgazetowardYossarianbeatifically,pressedhisfingersdownoverhiseyeballsinamannerofaffliction,peeredupwardagaintowardYossariansearchingly,andbowedhishead,concludingwhatYossariantooktobeaclimacticpartofthefuneralrite.Thefourmeninfatiguesliftedthecoffinonslingsandlowereditintothegrave.Miloshudderedviolently.

           "Ican’twatchit,"hecried,turningawayinanguish."Ijustcan’tsithereandwatchwhilethosemesshallsletmysyndicatedie."Hegnashedhisteethandshookhisheadwithbitterwoeandresentment."Iftheyhadanyloyalty,theywouldbuymycottontillithurtssothattheycankeeprightonbuyingmycottontillithurtsthemsomemore.Theywouldbuildfiresandburnuptheirunderwearandsummeruniformsjusttocreatebiggerdemand.Buttheywon’tdoathing.Yossarian,tryeatingtherestofthischocolate-coveredcottonforme.Maybeitwilltastedeliciousnow."Yossarianpushedhishandaway."Giveup,Milo.Peoplecan’teatcotton.

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