The Road to Oz / Путешествие в Страну Оз. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Лаймен Фрэнк Баум

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      “Why didn’t the Eskimo keep it?” she asked, looking at the Magnet with interest.

      “He got tired of being loved and longed for someone to hate him. So he gave me the Magnet and the very next day a grizzly bear ate him.”

      “Wasn’t he sorry then?” she inquired.

      “He didn’t say,” replied the shaggy man, wrapping and tying the Love Magnet with great care and putting it away in another pocket. “But the bear didn’t seem sorry a bit,” he added.

      “Did you know the bear?” asked Dorothy.

      “Yes; we used to play ball together in the Caviar Islands. The bear loved me because I had the Love Magnet. I couldn’t blame him for eating the Eskimo, because it was his nature to do so.”

      “Once,” said Dorothy, “I knew a Hungry Tiger who longed to eat fat babies, because it was his nature to; but he never ate any because he had a Conscience.”

      “This bear,” replied the shaggy man, with a sigh, “had no Conscience, you see.”

      The shaggy man sat silent for several minutes, apparently considering the cases of the bear and the tiger, while Toto watched him with an air of great interest. The little dog was doubtless thinking of his ride in the shaggy man’s pocket and planning to keep out of reach in the future.

      At last the shaggy man turned and inquired, “What’s your name, little girl?”

      “My name’s Dorothy,” said she, jumping up again, “but what are we going to do? We can’t stay here forever, you know.”

      “Let’s take the seventh road,” he suggested. “Seven is a lucky number for little girls named Dorothy.”

      “The seventh from where?”

      “From where you begin to count.”

      So she counted seven roads, and the seventh looked just like all the others; but the shaggy man got up from the ground where he had been sitting and started down this road as if sure it was the best way to go; and Dorothy and Toto followed him.

      2

      Dorothy Meets Button-Bright

      The seventh road was a good road, and curved this way and that – winding through green meadows and fields covered with daisies and buttercups and past groups of shady trees. There were no houses of any sort to be seen, and for some distance they met with no living creature at all.

      Dorothy began to fear they were getting a good way from the farm-house, since here everything was strange to her; but it would do no good at all to go back where the other roads all met, because the next one they chose might lead her just as far from home.

      She kept on beside the shaggy man, who whistled cheerful tunes to beguile the journey, until by and by they followed a turn in the road and saw before them a big chestnut tree making a shady spot over the highway. In the shade sat a little boy dressed in sailor clothes, who was digging a hole in the earth with a bit of wood. He must have been digging some time, because the hole was already big enough to drop a football into.

      Dorothy and Toto and the shaggy man came to a halt before the little boy, who kept on digging in a sober and persistent fashion.

      “Who are you?” asked the girl.

      He looked up at her calmly. His face was round and chubby and his eyes were big, blue and earnest.

      “I’m Button-Bright,” said he.

      “But what’s your real name?” she inquired.

      “Button-Bright.”

      “That isn’t a really-truly name!” she exclaimed.

      “Isn’t it?” he asked, still digging.

      “’course not. It’s just a – a thing to call you by.

      You must have a name.”

      “Must I?”

      “To be sure. What does your mama call you?”

      He paused in his digging and tried to think.

      “Papa always said I was bright as a button; so mama always called me Button-Bright,” he said.

      “What is your papa’s name?”

      “Just Papa.”

      “What else?”

      “Don’t know.”

      “Never mind,” said the shaggy man, smiling. “We’ll call the boy Button-Bright, as his mama does. That name is as good as any, and better than some.”

      Dorothy watched the boy dig.

      “Where do you live?” she asked.

      “Don’t know,” was the reply.

      “How did you come here?”

      “Don’t know,” he said again.

      “Don’t you know where you came from?”

      “No,” said he.

      “Why, he must be lost,” she said to the shaggy man. She turned to the boy once more.

      “What are you going to do?” she inquired.

      “Dig,” said he.

      “But you can’t dig forever; and what are you going to do then?” she persisted.

      “Don’t know,” said the boy.

      “But you MUST know SOMETHING,” declared Dorothy, getting provoked.

      “Must I?” he asked, looking up in surprise.

      “Of course you must.”

      “What must I know?”

      “What’s going to become of you, for one thing[7],” she answered.

      “Do YOU know what’s going to become of me?” he asked.

      “Not – not ’zactly,” she admitted.

      “Do you know what’s going to become of YOU?” he continued, earnestly.

      “I can’t say I do,” replied Dorothy, remembering her present difficulties.

      The shaggy man laughed.

      “No one knows everything, Dorothy,” he said.

      “But Button-Bright doesn’t seem to know ANYthing,” she declared. “Do you, Button-Bright?”

      He shook his head, which had pretty curls all over it, and replied with perfect calmness:

      “Don’t СКАЧАТЬ