"Lewis Padgett - Mimsy Were The Borogoves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Padgett Lewis)

"Try again," Paradine suggested. "It's the wrong word."
"Uh... s-saliva. Hm-m-m?"
"Uh-huh. More pepsin? Is there pepsin in the salivary juices, Jane? I forget."
"There's poison in mine," Jane remarked. "Rosalie's left lumps in the mashed
potatoes again."
But Paradine was interested. "You mean you're getting everything possible out of
your foodтАФno wastageтАФand eating less?"
Scott thought that over. "I guess so. It's not just the sp... saliva. I sort of measure
how much to put in my mouth at once, and what stuff to mix up. I dunno. I just do
it."
"Hm-m-m," said Paradine, making a note to check up later. "Rather a
revolutionary idea." Kids often get screwy notions, but this one might not be so far
off the beam. He pursed his lips. "Eventually I suppose people will eat quite
differentlyтАФI mean the way they eat, as well as what. What they eat, I mean. Jane,
our son shows signs of becoming a genius."
"Oh?"
"It's a rather good point in dietetics he just made. Did you figure it out yourself,
Scott?"
"Sure," the boy said, and really believed it.
"Where'd you get the idea?"
"Oh, IтАФ" Scott wriggled. "I dunno. It doesn't mean much, I guess."
Paradine was unreasonably disappointed. "But surelyтАФ"
"S-s-s-spit!" Emma shrieked, overcome by a sudden fit of badness. "Spit!" she
attempted to demonstrate, but succeeded only in dribbling into her bib.
With a resigned air Jane rescued and reproved her daughter, while Paradine eyed
Scott with rather puzzled interest. But it was not till after dinner, in the living room,
that anything further happened.
"Any homework?"
"N-no," Scott said, flushing guiltily. To cover his embarrassment he took from his
pocket a gadget he had found in the box, and began to unfold it. The result
resembled a tesseract, strung with beads. Paradine didn't see it at first, but Emma
did. She wanted to play with it.
"No. Lay off, Slug," Scott ordered. "You can watch me." He fumbled with the
beads, making soft, interesting noises. Emma extended a fat forefinger and yelped.
"Scotty," Paradine said warningly.
"I didn't hurt her."
"Bit me. It did," Emma mourned.
Paradine looked up. He frowned, staring. What inтАФ
"Is that an abacus?" he asked. "Let's see it, please."
Somewhat unwillingly Scott brought the gadget across to his father's chair.
Paradine blinked. The "abacus," unfolded, was more than a foot square, composed
of thin, rigid wires that interlocked here and there. On the wires colored beads were
strung. They could be slid back and forth, and from one support to another, even at
the points of juncture. But a pierced bead couldn't cross interlocking wires....
So, apparently, they weren't pierced. Paradine looked closer. Each small bead had
a deep groove running around it, so that it could be revolved and slid along the wire
at the same time. Paradine tried to pull one free. It clung as though magnetically.
Iron? It looked more like plastic.
The framework itselfтАФParadine wasn't a mathematician. But the angles formed by
the wires were vaguely shocking, in their ridiculous lack of Euclidean logic. They