"Шервуд Андерсен. Марширующие люди (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

asked me for it time and again. He said he wanted to show it to his
mother. And now he has shown it to you and I suppose told lies about
me."

Beaut was annoyed and wished he had not mentioned the ring. He felt
that an unnecessary fuss was being made about it. He did not believe
that the black-haired boy had lied but he did not think it mattered.

He began talking of his father, boasting of him. His hatred of the
town blazed up. "They thought they knew him down there," he said,
"they laughed at him and called him 'Cracked.' They thought his
running into the mine just a crazy notion like a horse that runs into
a burning stable. He was the best man in town. He was braver than any
of them. He went in there and died when he had almost enough money
saved to buy a farm over here." He pointed down the valley.

Beaut began to tell her of the visits to the hillside with his father
and described the effect of the scene on himself when he was a child.
"I thought it was paradise," he said.

She put her hand on his arm and seemed to be soothing him like a
careful groom quieting an excitable horse. "Don't mind them," she
said, "you will go away after a time and make a place for yourself out
in the world."

He wondered how she knew. A profound respect for her came over him.
"She is keen to guess that," he thought.

He began to talk of himself, boasting and throwing out his chest. "I'd
like to have the chance to show what I can do," he declared. A thought
that had been in his mind on the winter day when Uncle Charlie Wheeler
put the name of Beaut upon him came back and he walked up and down
before the woman making grotesque motions with his hands as Cracked
McGregor had walked up and down before him.

"I'll tell you what," he began and his voice was harsh. He had
forgotten the presence of the woman and half forgotten what had been
in his mind. He sputtered and glared over his shoulder up the hillside
as he struggled for words. "Oh to Hell with men!" he burst forth.
"They are cattle, stupid cattle." A fire blazed up in his eyes and a
confident ring came into his voice. "I'd like to get them together,
all of them," he said, "I'd like to make them----" Words failed him
and again he sat down on the log beside the woman. "Well I'd like to
lead them to an old mine shaft and push them in," he concluded
resentfully.

* * * * *

On the eminence Beaut and the tall woman sat and looked down into the
valley. "I wonder why we don't go there, mother and I," he said. "When