"Valentin Katayev. The Cottage in the Steppe (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"What's to stop us!" Petya exclaimed.
Suiting the action to the word he brought in the jar and, certain that
he was doing an honest and honourable deed, measured out two full saucers of
the jam.
"That's enough!" he said firmly, tied up the jar, and put it back in
the sideboard.
But it was far from being enough. It was only now, after they had each
had a saucerful, that the friends began really to appreciate the heavenly
jam. Overcome with an overwhelming and irrepressible desire for at least a
little more, Petya brought the jar in again, and with a look of grim
determination and without even so much as a glance at Gavrik, served out two
more helpings. Petya never dreamed that a saucer could hold so much. When he
held the jar up to the light, he saw that it was at least a third empty.
Each ate his portion and licked his spoon clean.
"Never tasted anything like it!" Gavrik said as he went back to copying
out the letters "T," "U," "V," and "X," experiencing at the same time a
burning desire to have at least one more spoonful of the delectable stuff.
"All right," Petya said resolutely, "we'll eat exactly half of it and
no more!"
When there was exactly half the jam left, Petya tied the cord for the
Last time and carried the jar back to the sideboard, his mind firmly made up
not to go near it again. He tried not to think about Auntie.
"Well, have you had enough?" he asked Gavrik with a wan smile.
"More than enough," Gavrik answered, for the sticky sweetness was
beginning to give him a sour taste.
Petya felt slightly nauseous himself. Bliss was suddenly turning into
something quite the opposite. They no longer wanted even to think about the
jam, and yet, strange as it may seem, they could not get it out of their
minds. It seemed to be taking revenge on them, creating an insane, unnatural
desire for more. It was no use trying to resist the craving. Petya, dazed,
returned once more to the dining-room, and the boys began scooping up
spoonfuls of the nauseating delicacy, having lost all sense of what they
were doing. This was hatred turned to worship, and worship turned to hatred.
Their mouths were puckered up from the acid-sweet taste of the jam. Their
foreheads were damp. The jam stuck in their protesting throats. But they
kept on devouring it as if it were porridge. They were not even eating it,
they were struggling with it, destroying it as a mortal enemy. They came to
their senses when only a thin film of jam left on the very bottom of the jar
evaded their spoons.
At that moment Petya realized the full meaning of the terrible thing
they had done. Like criminals anxious to cover up their tracks, the boys ran
into the kitchen and began feverishly to rinse the sticky jar under the tap,
remembering, however, to take turns drinking the sweetish, cloudy water.
When they had washed and wiped the jar clean, Petya put it back on the
shelf in the sideboard, as if that would somehow remedy the situation. He
comforted himself with the foolish hope that perhaps Auntie had already
forgotten about Grandma's jam, or that when she would see the clean empty
jar she would think they had eaten it long ago. Alas, Petya knew very well
that at best his hopes were foolish.
The boys tried not to look at each other as they walked back to the