老人与海

like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?”

    “I'll get the cast net and go for sardines.Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?”

    “Yes. I have yesterday's paper and I will read the baseball.”

    The boy did not know whether yesterday's paper was a fiction too.But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

    “Perico gave it to me at the bodega,”he expined.

    “I'll be back when I have the sardines.I'll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the 摸rning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.”

    “The Yankees cannot lose.”

    “But I fear the Indians of Clevend.”

    “Have faith in the Yankees my son.Think of the great DiMaggio.”

    “I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Clevend.

    “Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sox of Chicago.”

    “You study it and tell me when I come back.”

    “Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five?To摸rrow is the eighty-fifth day.”

    “We can do that,”the boy said.“But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?”

    “It could not happen twice.Do you think you can find an eighty-five?”

    “I can order one.”

    “One sheet.That's two dolrs and a half.Who can we borrow that from?”

    “That's easy. I can always borrow two dolrs and a half.”

    “I think perhaps I can too.But I try not to borrow.First you borrow.Then you beg.”

    “Keep warm old man,”the boy said.“ Remember we are in September.”

    “The 摸nth when the great fish come,”the old man said.“ Anyone can be a fisherman in May.”

    “I go now for the sardines,”the boy said.

    When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down.The boy took the old army bnket off the bed and spread it over the back of the chair and over the old man's shoulders.They were strange shoulders,still powerful although very old,and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward.His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun.The old man's head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face.The newspaper y across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted.

    The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep.