Вино из одуванчиков

           "Anythingyouwanttobe,son,"saidtheoldman,"you’llbe.Noonewilleverstopyou."

           Theoldmanwalkedlightlyacrossthestoretothewalloftenthousandboxes,camebackwithsomeshoesfortheboy,andwroteupalistonsomepaperwhiletheboywaslacingtheshoesonhisfeetandthenstandingthere,waiting.

           Theoldmanheldouthislist."Adozenthingsyougottodoformethisafternoon.Finishthem,we’reevenStephen,andyou’refired."

           "Thanks,Mr.Sanderson!"Douglasboundedaway.

           "Stop!"criedtheoldman.

           Douglaspulledupandturned.

           Mr.Sandersonleanedforward.

           "Howdotheyfeel?"Theboylookeddownathisfeetdeepintherivers,inthefieldsofwheat,inthewindthatalreadywasrushinghimoutofthetown.Helookedupattheoldman,hiseyesburning,hismouthmoving,butnosoundcameout.

           "Antelopes?"saidtheoldman,lookingfromtheboy’sfacetohisshoes."Gazelles?"

           Theboythoughtaboutit,hesitated,andnoddedaquicknod.Almostimmediatelyhevanished.Hejustspunaboutwithawhisperandwentoff.