Вино из одуванчиков

           Buthappy?Whocansay?Lee,leaveoffwiththeclockyou’rebuilding.You’llneverfindacuckoobigenoughtogoinit!Manwasnotmadetotamperwithsuchthings.It’snotagainstGod,no,butitsurelookslikeit’sagainstLeoAuffmann.Anotherweekofthisandwe’llburyhiminhismachine!"

           ButLeoAuffmannwastoobusynoticingthattheroomwasfallingswiftlyup.

           Howinteresting,hethought,lyingonthefloor.

           DarknessclosedinagreatwinkonhimassomeonescreamedsomethingaboutthatHappinessMachine,threetimes.

           Thefirstthinghenoticedthenextmorningwasdozensofbirdsflutteringaroundintheairstirringuprippleslikecoloredstonesthrownintoanincrediblyclearstream,gongingthetinroofofthegaragesoftly.

           Apackofmultibreddogspawfootedonebyoneintotheyardtopeerandwhinegentlythroughthegaragedoor;fourboys,twogirls,andsomemenhesitatedinthedrivewayandthenedgedalongunderthecherrytrees.

           LeoAuffmann,listening,knewwhatitwasthathadreachedoutandcalledthemallintotheyard.

           ThesoundoftheHappinessMachine.

           Itwasthesortofsoundthatmightbeheardcomingfromagiant’skitchenonasummerday.Therewereallkindsofhummings,lowandhigh,steadyandthenchanging.Incrediblefoodswerebeingbakedtherebyahostofwhirringgoldenbeesasbigasteacups.