“George, how long’s it gonna be till we get that little place an’ live on the fatta the lan’ an’ rabbits?”
“I don’ know,” said George. “We gotta get a big stake together.”
“I know a little place we can get cheap, but they ain’t givin’ it away.”
Old Candy turned slowly over. His eyes were wide open. He watched George carefully.
Lennie said, “Tell about that place, George.” “I jus’ tol’ you, jus’ las’ night.”
“Go on—tell again, George.” “Well, it’s ten acres,” said George. “Got a little win’mill.”
“Got a little shack on it, an’ a chicken run. Got a kitchen, orchard, cherries, apples, peaches, ’cots, nuts, got a few berries.”
“They’s a place for alfalfa and plenty water to flood it. They’s a pig pen—” “An’ rabbits, George.”
No place for rabbits now, but I could easy build a few hutches and you could feed alfalfa to the rabbits.”
“Damn right, I could,” said Lennie. “You God damn right I could.”
George’s hands stopped working with the cards. His voice was growing warmer.
“An’ we could have a few pigs. I could build a smoke house like the one gran’pa had,
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