"Robert A. Heinlein - Starman Jones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

yours for a chaser. Sonny boy, when I was your age I could empty a tumbler
neat and then stand on my hands."
Max had intended to sup on side meat and warmed-over biscuits, but there
was only half a pan left of the biscuits. He scrambled eggs in the grease of
the side meat, brewed coffee, and let it go at that. When they sat down
Montgomery looked at it and announced, "My dear, starting tomorrow I'll expect
you to live up to what you told me about your cooking. Your boy isn't much of
a cook." Nevertheless he ate heartily. Max decided not to tell him that he was
a better cook than Maw--he'd find out soon enough.
Presently Montgomery sat back and wiped his mouth, then poured himself
more coffee and lighted a cigar. Maw said, "Maxie, dear, what's the dessert?"
"Dessert? Well--there's that ice cream in the freezer, left over from
Solar Union Day."
She looked vexed. "Oh, dear! I'm afraid it's not there."
"Huh?"
"Well, I'm afraid I sort of ate it one afternoon when you were out in
the south field. It was an awfully hot day."
Max did not say anything, he was unsurprised. But she was not content to
leave it. "You didn't fix any dessert, Max? But this is a _special_ occasion."
Montgomery took his cigar out of his mouth. "Stow it, my dear," he said
kindly. "I'm not much for sweets, I'm a meat-and-potatoes man--sticks to the
ribs. Let's talk of pleasanter things." He turned to Max. "Max, what can you
do besides farm?"
Max was startled. "Huh? I've never done anything else. Why?"
Montgomery touched the ash of the cigar to his plate. "Because you are
all through farming."
For the second time in two hours Max had more change than he could
grasp. "Why? What do you mean?"
"Because we've sold the farm."
Max felt as if he had had a rug jerked out from under him. But he could
tell from Maw's face that it was true. She looked the way she always did when
she had put one over on him--triumphant and slightly apprehensive.
"Dad wouldn't like that," he said to her harshly. "This land has been in
our family for four hundred years."
"Now, Maxie! I've told you I don't know how many times that I wasn't cut
out for a farm. I was city raised."
"Clyde's Corners! Some city!"
"It wasn't a farm. And I was just a young girl when your father brought
me here--you were already a big boy. I've still got my life before me. I can't
live it buried on a farm."
Max raised his voice. "But you promised Dad you'd . . ."
"Stow it," Montgomery said firmly. "And keep a civil tongue in your head
when you speak to your mother--and to me."
Max shut up.
"The land is sold and that's that. How much do you figure this parcel is
worth?"
"Why, I've never thought about it."
"Whatever you thought, I got more." He gave Max a wink. "Yes, sir! It
was a lucky day for your mother and you when she set her cap for me. I'm a man
with his ear to the ground. I knew why an agent was around buying up these