"Фредерик Браун. Night of the Jabberwock (англ) " - читать интересную книгу автора

Al shook his head. "Wish I had time. Got to go home and do some work."
I poured whisky in his glass and spilled a little trying to fill it to
the brim. He shook his head slowly. "The White Knight is sliding down the
poker," he said. "He balances very badly."
"I'm only in the second square," I told him. "But the next move will be
a good one. I go to the fourth by train, remember."
"Don't keep it waiting, Doc. The smoke alone is worth a thousand pounds
a puff."
Smiley was looking from me of us to the other. "What the hell are you
guys talking about?" he wanted to know.
There wasn't any use trying to explain. I leveled my finger at him. I
said, "Crawling at your feet you may observe a bread-and-butter fly. Its
wings are thin slices of bread-and-butter, its body a crust and its head is
a lump of sugar. And it lives on weak tea with cream in it."
Al said, "Smiley, you're supposed to ask him what happens if it can't
find any."
I said, "Then I say it would die of course and you say that must happen
very often and I say it always happens."
Smiley looked at us again and shook his head slowly. He said, "You guys
are really nuts." He walked down the bar to wash and wipe some glasses.
Al Grainger grinned at me. "What are your plans for tonight, Doc?" he
asked. "I just might possibly be able to sneak in a game or two of chess
later. You going to be home, and up?"
I nodded. "I was just working myself up to the idea of walking home,
and when I get there I'm going to read. And have another drink or two. If
you get there before midnight I'll still be sober enough to play. Sober
enough to beat a young punk like you, anyway."
It was all right to say that last part because it was so obviously
untrue. Al had been beating me two games out of three for the last year or
so.
He chuckled, and quoted at me:

" 'You are old, Father William,' the young man said,
'And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head
Do you think, at your age, it is right?' "
Well, since Carroll had the answer to that, so did I:

" 'In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,
'I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.' "

Al said, "Maybe you got something there, Doc. But let's quit
alternating verses on that before you get to 'Be off, or I'll kick you
down-stairs!' Because I got to be off anyway."
"One more drink?"
"I think not, not till I'm through working. You can drink and think
too. Hope I can do the same thing when I'm your age. I'll try my best to get
to your place for some chess, but don't look for me unless I'm there by ten