Вино из одуванчиков

           Mr.Sandersonbackedoffalittledistancefromtheboy’sfever,onehandtohischin."Well..."

           "Mr.Sanderson,"saidDouglas,"yousellmesomethingandI’llsellyousomethingjustasvaluable."

           "IsitabsolutelynecessarytothesalethatIputonapairofthesneakers,boy?"saidtheoldman.

           "Isurewishyoucould,sir!"

           Theoldmansighed.Aminutelater,seatedpantingquietly,helacedthetennisshoestohislongnarrowfeet.Theylookeddetachedandaliendowntherenexttothedarkcuffsofhisbusinesssuit.Mr.Sandersonstoodup.

           "Howdotheyfeel?"askedtheboy.

           "Howdotheyfeel,heasks;theyfeelfine."Hestartedtositdown.

           "Please!"Douglasheldouthishand."Mr.Sanderson,nowcouldyoukindofrockbackandforthalittle,spongearound,bouncekindof,whileItellyoutherest?It’sthis:Igiveyoumymoney,yougivemetheshoes,Ioweyouadollar.But,Mr.Sanderson,but—soonasIgetthoseshoeson,youknowwhathappens?"

           "What?"

           "Bang!Ideliveryourpackages,pickuppackages,bringyoucoffee,bumyourtrash,runtothepostoffice,telegraphoffice,library!You’llseetwelveofmeinandout,inandout,everyminute.Feelthoseshoes,Mr.Sanderson,feelhowfastthey’dtakeme?