"Robert Rankin - The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

The farmer shook his head once more, and there was a certain sadness in the shaking.

'Clothes then,' said the lad. 'Everyone needs new clothes at one time or another.'

'And do I look naked to you?'

The lad now shookhis head, spraying the fully clothed farmer with sweat. The farmer was certainly
clothed -although his clothing was strange. His ample smock was a patchwork, as if of a multitude of
smaller clothes all stitched together.

'My wife and I have all we need, my sorry orphan boy,' said the farmer. 'Only disappointment and
despair come from wanting more than you need.'

'I've no doubt that there's wisdom in your words,' said the lad. 'But as I have nothing at all, anything
more will represent an improvement.'

'Then return the way you came. Weave clockwork motors if you must. Hard work, well achieved, is
sometimes rewarded.'

'No,' said the lad. 'It's the city for me. My mind is set on this. But listen, if you have never visited the city,
why not accompany me? Your gloomy opinion of it might be modified by experience.'

'I think not. The city is for city folk. There are those who toil there and are miserable and those who
prosper and are happy. The toilers exceed the prosperers by many thousands to one. So much I have
been told, and what I've been told is sufficient to inform my opinion.'

'Perhaps I will return one day and alter this opinion.'

'Be assured by me that you will do no such thing. Many have travelled this way before you, seeking
wealth in the city. None have ever returned wealthy. In fact, none have ever returned at all.'

'Perhaps they became wealthy and so felt no need to return.'

'Your conversation tires me,' said the farmer. 'And as I can see that you are adamant in your convictions
and eager to be on your way, I suggest that we speak no more. I have discharged my responsibilities.
My job is done.'

'Responsibilities?' asked the lad. 'Job?'

'My responsibility and my job is to stand in this field of flowering crad and discourage young lads such as
you from travelling towards the city. Such was my father's job, and his father's before him.'

'Why?' asked the lad.

'Because that's the way we do business in these parts. Nothing ever changes around here. If you travel
on towards the city, you will surely meet your doom. And when you do, you will blame me for it.'

'Why should I?' asked the lad.
 'Because I know that you will come to grief. I know it. And if you were in my position and knew that