"Terry Pratchett. A Hat Full Of Sky " - читать интересную книгу автора

man walking, remember?
The assembled pictsies watched as Rob Anybody, grunting fiercely and
with his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, dragged the pencil
through the curves and lines of the letters. He looked at the kelda
expectantly after each one.
Thats it, she said, at last. A bonny effort!
Rob Anybody stood back and looked critically at the paper.
Thats it? he said.
Aye, said Jeannie. Yeve writ your ain name, Rob Anybody!
Rob stared at the letters again. Im gonna go to prisn noo? he said.
There was a polite cough from beside Jeannie. It had belonged to the
Toad. He had no other name, because toads dont go in for names. Despite
sinister forces that would have people think differently, no toad has ever
been called Tommy the Toad, for example. Its just not something that
happens.
This toad had once been a lawyer (a human lawyer; toads manage without
them) whod been turned into a toad by a fairy godmother whod intended to
turn him into a frog but had been a bit hazy on the difference. Now he lived
in the Feegle mound, where he ate worms and helped them out with the
difficult thinking.
Ive told you, Mr Anybody, that just having your name written down is no
problem at all, he said. Theres nothing illegal about the words Rob Anybody.
Unless, of course, and the toad gave a little legal laugh, its meant as an
instruction!
None of the Feegles laughed. They liked their humour to be a bit, well,
funnier.
Rob Anybody stared at his very shaky writing. Thats my name, aye?
It certainly is, Mr Anybody.
An nothin bads happenin at a, Rob noted. He looked closer. How can you
tell its my name?
Ah, thatll be the readin side o things, said Jeannie.
Thats where the lettery things make a sound in yer heid? said Rob.
Thats the bunny, said the toad. But we thought youd like to start with
the more physical aspect of the procedure.
Could I no mebbe just learn the writin and leave the readin to someone
else? Rob asked, without much hope.
No, my mans got to do both, said Jeannie, folding her arms. When a
female Feegle does that, theres no hope left.
Ach, its a terrible thing for a man when his wumman gangs up on him wi
a toad, said Rob, shaking his head. But, when he turned to look at the
grubby paper, there was just a hint of pride in his face.
Still, thats my name, right? he said, grinning.
Jeannie nodded.
Just there, all by itself and no on a Wanted poster or anything. My
name, drawn by me.
Yes, Rob, said the kelda.
My name, under my thumb. No scunner can do anythin aboot it? Ive got my
name, nice and safe?
Jeannie looked at the toad, who shrugged. It was generally held by
those who knew them that most of the brains in the Nac Mac Feegle clans