Королі та капуста
The Phonograph and the Graft
"But,notwithstanding,wehiredaroomthatafternoonintheCalledelosAngeles,themainstreetthatrunsalongtheshore,andputourtrunksthere.’Twasagood-sizedroom,darkandcheerful,butsmall.’Twasonavariousstreet,diversifiedbyhousesandconservatoryplants.Thepeasantryofthecitypassedtoandfroonthefinepasturagebetweenthesidewalks.’Twas,fortheworld,likeanoperachoruswhentheRoyalKafoozlumisabouttoenter.
"Wewererubbingthedustoffthemachineandgettingfixedtostartbusinessthenextday,whenabig,fine-lookingwhitemaninwhiteclothesstoppedatthedoorandlookedin.Weextendedtheinvitations,andhewalkedinsideandsizedusup.Hewaschewingalongcigar,andwrinklinghiseyes,meditative,likeagirltryingtodecidewhichdresstoweartotheparty.
"‘NewYork?’hesaystomefinally.
"‘Originally,andfromtimetotime,’Isays.‘Hasn’titrubbedoffyet?’
"‘It’ssimple,’sayshe,‘whenyouknowhow.It’sthefitofthevest.Theydon’tcutvestsrightanywhereelse.Coats,maybe,butnotvests.’
"ThewhitemanlooksatHenryHorsecollarandhesitates.
"‘Injun,’saysHenry;‘tameInjun.’
"‘Mellinger,’saystheman—‘HomerP.Mellinger.Boys,you’reconfiscated.You’rebabesinthewoodwithoutachaperonorreferee,andit’smydutytostartyougoing.I’llknockoutthepropsandlaunchyouproperinthepellucidwatersofthistropicalmudpuddle.
