"Вуди Гасри. Bound for glory (engl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"I said cook an' I mean cook!"
Then my colored friend looked the two boys over and said, "You boys,
how long you been goin' 'roun' cookin' people's feet?"
"Keep outta dis! Stepinfetchit!"
"You cain't call me dat an' git by wid it, white boy!"
I put my shoulder against the colored boy and my hand against the white
boy's arm, and told them, "Listen, guys! Goddamit! No matter who's mad at
who, we jest cain't start a fight of no kind on this freight! These big
Burlington dicks'll jail th' whole bunch of us!"
"Yaaa. Skeerd!"
"You're a dam liar! I ain't afraid of you ner twenty more like ya! But
do you know what would of happened if these railroad bulls shook us down ta
look at our draft cards, an` found you with that bottle of gasoline on ya?
It'd be th' lockup fer you an' me an' all of th' rest of us!"
The old man with the rupture bit his lips and asked me, "Son, do you
suppose you could get one of the men to move up out of the door and let me
try to get a little breath of that fresh air? I feel like I've just got to
get a little air."
The colored boy held the old man up while I walked over to the door and
tapped a nice healthy-looking boy on the back. "Would you mind lettin' this
old man ride in yer place there in th' door fer a little while? Sick.
Rupture trouble."
"Not at all." The boy got up and set down back where the old man had
been standing. He acted friendly and hollered at us, "I think it's about
time we took turns ridin' in the doors. Let everybody have a whiff of that
fresh air!"
Almost everybody in the car rolled over or stood up and yelled, "Hell
yes!" "Turn about!" "I'm ready." "Too late, boys, I been dead an' buried in
solid cement for two hours!" "Gimme air!" "Trot out yer frash airr!"
Everybody mumbled and talked, and fifteen or twenty men pushed their way
through the others to stand close to the doors, hoping to be first.
Heavy walked through a bunch of them saying, "Watch out. Men, let this
Negro boy through with this old man. He's sick. He's needin' air. Back up a
little. Make room."
"Who'n th' hell are you? Tubba lard! Dictater 'round here?" one old boy
popped off.
Heavy started for the man, but he slipped back in through the crowd.
"All of you men get up! Let a new bunch get cooled off! Where's the old man
that the boys put the hot foot on a few minutes ago? There you are! Hey!
Come on! Grab yourself a hunk of this nice, fresh, cool climate! Set right
there! Now, who's to be next?"
A red-eyed vino drunkard took a man by the feet and pulled him along
the deck to the door. "My buddy. Ain't said a word since I loaded 'im in
last night in Duluth. Bummed th' main stem fer two bits, then he scooped his
flue."
A Mexican boy rubbed his head and got up from somewhere along the wall.
He drank half of a quart vinegar jug of water and then sailed the bottle out
the door. Then he set down and hung his feet out the door and rode along
holding his head in his hands vomiting into the wind. In each door there was
room for five men. The first ten being sick and weakly, we let them ride for