Came grimy tramp to the lake. To clean the shore a bald old man sits, reading a book. Near the closed umbrella lies.
The bare bum finger tested the water.
If, dear people, — says the old man — you wanted to swim, I do not advise. Dangerous this lake. Whoever it is, risking his life. Take care of health.
The old man adjusted his glasses and looked up at the sky. — In General, better slow down, sit down. Soon the rain will pass, all the dirt will wash you myself.
The tramp meets — a Lie, a bald fool. Clean water, quiet. Want here. Hadn’t bathed in months, have lice.
The old man did not have time to argue. Hobo ran up and jumped into the lake.
The water is stirred up, went in pairs, from the bottom up the dregs. The tramp got dirtier still, in the mud, the blood, without a brush of the left hand.
The old man he ” told you, lawn head, the lake is dangerous, stay out.
Drifter in response — a Fool. it’s you. Not because I’m a cripple now that the lake is dangerous, but because THERE are CROCODILES!
A long time sitting here.– mumbled the old man-who lives there, I can not say.
— Crocodiles there, you bastard bald. Saw with my own eyes. Always recognize them. Only this. You need a spear gun. Do you have?
— No, dear people. Don’t torture yourself more in vain. Rain again soon. Will you sit down? The stump-blood. Crocodiles, by the way, it’s not deep. They…
” Shut up! Had read books, asshole. Soft in the head.
The tramp ran off somewhere. He returned with a rusty hunting rifle.
– don’t need you back there to the lake. Dangerous it is, — said the old man — then the book says.
— one More word and I’ll. — only shook his fist tramp. — Most importantly, faith in victory, okay? Cleanliness-the guarantee of health, okay? Where did these come from? No conscience, no mind. Invent same “a dangerous lake”.
Hobo ran up and jumped again. Again stirred up the water, went par, from the bottom up the dregs.
Crawled out, covered with mud, sand. news in deep scratches, no guns and left foot. Lies moaning, bleeding blood.
The old man dropped the book, almost crying — do not go there anymore, Oh dear! The lake is dangerous.
— Vrese, bald bastard, î croaked the tramp. – Occupational health or death. The lake is great. If not crocodiles GD. And again crawled to the water.
The third time was very tense. From the bottom up the dregs. The tramp was gone.
The old man sighed. He was sorry for the unfortunate who never had the chance to get rid of lice in this world. Rumbled the thunder. The old man picked up the book, opened the umbrella. The rain has washed away the earth with blood, shreds of torn clothing, and shore clean again.