"Henry Kuttner - See You Later UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

"Now I know," he said. "Ain't you the Hogben boy?"

"That's me. Saunk Hogben."

"I heard tell 'bout you Hogbens. All witches, ain't you?"

"No, sir."

"I heard what I heard. Whole neighborhood's buzzing. Hexers, that's what. You get outa here, go on, git!"

"I'm a-going," I said. "I just come by to say it's real unfortunate you couldri't chaw up your own kin if'n you was a critter like in that there picture."

"Ain't nobody big enough to stop me!"

"Maybe not," I said, "but they've all gone to glory."

When he heard this, old Yancey started to cackle. Finally, when he got his breath back, he said, "Not them! Them varmints have gone plumb smack to perdition, right where they belong. How'd it happen?"

"It was sort of an accident," I said. "The baby done kilt seven of them and Grandpaw kilt the other, in a way of speaking. No harm intended."

"No harm done," Yancey said, cackling again.

"Maw sent her apologies, and what do you want done with the remains? I got to take the wheelbarrow back home."

"Take 'em away. I don't want 'em. Good riddance to bad rubbish," old Yancey said, so I said all right and started off. But then he yelled out and told me he'd changed his mind. Told me to dump 'em where they was. From what I could make out, which wasn't much because he was laughing so hard, he wanted to come down and kick 'em.

So I done like he said and then went back home and told Maw, over a mess of catfish and beans and pot-likker. She made some hush puppies, too. They was good. I sat back, figgering I'd earned a rest, and thunk a mite, feeling warm and nice around the middle. I was trying to figger what a bean would feel like, down in my tummy. But it didn't seem to have no feelings.

It couldn't of been more than a half hour later when the pig yelled outside like he was getting kicked, and then somebody knocked on the door. It was Yancey. Minute he come hi, he pulled a bandanna out of his britches and started sniffling. I looked at Maw, wide-eyed. I couldn't tell her nothing.

Paw and Uncle Les was drinking corn in a corner, and giggling a mite. I could tell they was feeling good because of the way the table kept rocking, the one be-



tween them. It wasn't touching neither one, but it kept jiggling, trying to step fust on Paw's toes and then on Uncle Les's. They was doing it inside their haids, trying to ketch the other one off guard.

It was up to Maw, and she invited old Yancey to set down a spell and have some beans. He just sobbed.

"Something wrong, neighbor?" Maw asked, polite.

"It sure is," Yancey said, sniffling. "I'm a real old man."

"You surely are," Maw told him. "Mebbe not as old as Saunk here, but you look awful old."

"Hey?" Yancey said, staring at her. "Saunk? Saunk ain't more'n seventeen, big as he is."

Maw near looked embarrassed. "Did I say Saunk?" she covered up, quick-like. "I meant this Saunk's grand-paw. His name's Saunk too." It wasn't; even Grandpaw don't remember what his name was first, it's been so long. But in his time he's used a lot of names like Elijah and so forth. I ain't even sure they had names in Atlantis, where Grandpaw come from in the first place. Numbers or something. It don't signify, anyhow.

Well, seems like qld Yancey kept snuffling and groaning and moaning, and made out like we'd kilt his eight boys and he was all alone in the world. He hadn't cared a mite half an hour ago, though, and I said so. But he pointed out he hadn't rightly understood what I was talking about then, and for me to shet up.