Вино из одуванчиков

           Heturnedandpickedupthereinsandgavethemagentleshake."Tom,"hesaid,lookingatthehorse’sback,"I’llseeyoulater.Igottoplan.Igottolookaroundandcomeagainaftersupper.Eventhen,whoknows?Untilthen..."HereacheddownandpickedupalittlesetofJapanesewind-crystals."Hangtheseinhisupstairswindow.Theymakeanicecoolmusic!"

           Tomstoodwiththewind-crystalsinhishandsasthewagonrolledaway.Heheldthemupandtherewasnowind,theydidnotmove.Theycouldnotmakeasound.

           Seveno’clock.Thetownresembledavasthearthoverwhichtheshudderingsofheatmovedagainandagainfromthewest.Charcoal-coloredshadowsquiveredoutwardfromeveryhouse,everytree.Ared-hairedmanmovedalongbelow.Tom,seeinghimilluminedbythedyingbutferocioussun,sawatorchproudlycarryingitself,sawafieryfox,sawthedevilmarchinginhisowncountry.

           Atseven-thirtyMrs.SpauldingcameoutofthebackdoorofthehousetoemptysomewatermelonrindsintothegarbagepailandsawMr.Jonasstandingthere."Howistheboy?"saidMr.Jonas.

           Mrs.Spauldingstoodthereforamoment,aresponsetremblingonherlips.

           "MayIseehim,please?"saidMr.Jonas.

           Stillshecouldsaynothing.

           "Iknowtheboywell,"hesaid."Seenhimmosteverydayofhislifesincehewasoutandaround.I’vesomethingforhiminthewagon."

           "He’snot—"Shewasgoingtosay"conscious,"butshesaid,"awake.He’snotawake,Mr.Jonas.Thedoctorsaidhe’snottobedisturbed.