"Baker, Kage - Son Observe the Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baker Kage)

"I will indeed," I said, and thought: Thank you very much, mortal man, for this opportunity. The moment the door closed behind them I had the device out of my pocket. It looked rather like a big old-fashioned watch. I held it out to the boy.

"Here you go, Donal, hereТs a grand timepiece for you to play with."

He took it gladly. "ThereТs a train on it!" he cried. I turned to Ella.

"And what can I do for you, darling?"

She looked at me with considering eyes. "You can read me the funny papers." She pointed to a neatly stacked bundle by the stove.

"With pleasure." I seized them up and we settled back in my chair, pulling a lamp close. The baby slept fitfully, I read to Ella about Sambo and Tommy Pip and Herr Spiegleburger, and all the while Donal pressed buttons and thumbed levers on the diagnostic toy. It flashed pretty lights for him, it played little tunes his sister was incapable of hearing; and then, as I had known it would, it bit him.

"Ow!" He dropped it and began to cry, holding out his tiny bleeding finger.

"O, dear, now, whatТs that? Did it stick you?" I put his sister down and got up to take the device back. "Tsk! Look at that, the stemТs broken." It vanished into my pocket. "What a shame. O, IТm sorry, Donal Og, hereТs the old hankie. LetТs bandage it up, shall we? There, there. DoesnТt hurt now, does it?"

"No," he sniffled. "I want another chocolate."

"And so youТll have one, for being a brave boy." I snapped off another square and gave it to him. "Ella, letТs give you another as well, shall we? What have you found there?"

"ItТs a picture about Mother Goose." She had spread out the ChildrenТs Page on the oilcloth. "IsnТt it? That says Mother Goose right there."

I looked over her shoulder. "Pictures from Mother Goose," I read out, "Hot Cross Buns. Paint the Seller of Hot Cross Buns. Looks like itТs a contest, darling. TheyТre asking the kiddies to paint in the picture and send it off to the paper to judge whoТs done the best one."

"Is there prize money?" She had an idea.

"Two dollars for the best one," I read, pulling at my lower lip uneasily. "And paintboxes for everyone else who enters."

She thought that over. Dismay came into her face. "But I havenТt got a paintbox to color it with at all! O, thatТs stupid! Giving paintboxes out to kids thatТs got them already. O, thatТs not fair!" She shook with stifled anger.

"WhatТs not fair?" Her mother backed through the door, holding it open for OТNeil with the washpan.

"Only this Mother Goose thing here," I said.

"YouТre never on about going to that show again, are you?" said Mary sharply, coming and taking her daughter by the shoulders. "Are you? Have you been wheedling at Mr. Kelly?"

"I have not!" the little girl cried in a trembling voice.

"She hasnТt, Mrs. OТNeil, only itТs this contest in the kidsТ paper," I hastened to explain. "You have to have a set of paints to enter it, see."

Mary looked down at the paper. Ella began to cry quietly. Her mother gathered her up and sat with her on the edge of the bed, rocking her back and forth.

"O, IТm so sorry, Ella dear, MummyТs so sorry. But you see, now, donТt you, the harm in wanting such things? You see how unhappy itТs made you? Look how hard Mummy and Daddy work to feed you and clothe you. Do you know how unhappy it makes us when you want shows and paintboxes and who knows what, and we canТt give them to you? It makes us despair. ThatТs a Mortal Sin, despair is."

"I want to see the fairies," wept the little girl.

"Dearest dear, there arenТt any fairies! But surely it was the Devil himself you met out in the street, that gave you that wicked piece of paper and made you long after vain things. Do you understand me? Do you see why itТs wicked, wanting things? It kills the soul, Ella."

After a long gasping moment the child responded, "I see, Mummy." She kept her face hidden in her motherТs shoulder. Donal watched them uncertainly, twisting the big knot of handkerchief on his finger. OТNeil sat at the table and put his head in his hands. After a moment he swept up the newspaper and put it in the stove. He reached into the slatwood cabinet and pulled a bottle of WilsonТs Whiskey up on the table, and got a couple of clean tumblers out of the washpan.