Вино из одуванчиков

           "Yes,yes,butwhatdidyouputinthisThursdaySpecial?"

           "Why,"saidGrandmaevasively,"whatdoesittasteliketoyou?"

           AuntRosesniffedthemorselonthefork.

           "Beef,orisitlamb?Ginger,orisitcinnamon?Hamsauce?Bilberries?Somebiscuitthrownin?Chives?Almonds?"

           "That’sitexactly,"saidGrandma."Secondhelpings,everyone?"

           Agreatuproarensued,aclashingofplates,aswarmingofarms,arushofvoiceswhichhopedtodrownblasphemousinquiryforever,Douglastalkinglouderandmakingmoremotionsthantherest.Butintheirfacesyoucouldseetheirworldtottering,theirhappinessindanger.Fortheyweretheprivilegedmembersofahouseholdwhichrushedfromworkorplaywhenthefirstdinnerbellwassomuchasclappedonceinthehall.Theirarrivalinthediningroomhadbeenforcountlessyearsasortoffranticmusicalchairs,astheyshookoutnapkinsinawhiteflutteringandseizeduputensilsasifrecentlystarvedinsolitaryconfinement,waitingforthesummonstofalldownstairsinamassoftwitchingelbowsandoverflowthemselvesattable.Nowtheyclamorednervously,makingobviousjokes,dartingglancesatAuntRoseasifsheconcealedabombinthatamplebosomthatwastickingsteadilyontowardtheirdoom.

           AuntRose,sensingthatsilencewasindeedablessingdevotedherselftothreehelpingsofwhateveritwasontheplateandwentupstairstounlacehercorset.

           "Grandma,"saidAuntRosedownagain."Ohwhatakitchenyoukeep.It’sreallyamess,now,youmustadmit.