The Pearl
by John Steinbeck
"In the town they tell the story of the great pearl - how it was found and how it was lost
again. They tell of Kino, the fisherman, and of his wife, Juana, and of the baby, Coyotito.
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And becau the story has been told so often, it has taken root in every man's mind. And,
as with all retold tales that are in people's hearts, there are only good and bad things and
black and white things and good and evil things and no in-between anywhere.
If this story is a parable, perhaps everyone takes his own meaning from it and reads his
own life into it. In any ca, they say in the "
IKino awakened in the near dark. The stars still shone and the day had drawn only a pale
wash of light in the lower sky to the east. The roosters had been crowing for some time,
it must be
and the early pigs were already beginning their cealess turning of twigs and bits of
spookywood to e whether anything to eat had been overlooked. Outside the brush hou in the
tuna clump, a covey of little birds chittered and flurried with their wings.
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Kino's eyes opened, and he looked first at the lightening square which was the door and
then he looked at the hanging box where Coyotito slept. And last he turned his head to
Juana, his wife, who lay beside him on the mat, her blue head-shawl over her no and
over her breasts and around the small of her back. Juana's eyes were open too. Kino could铁中铮铮
never remember eing them clod when he awakened. Her dark eyes made little
reflected stars. She was looking at him as she was always looking at him when he
awakened.
Kino heard the little splash of morning waves on the beach. It was very good - Kino
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clod his eyes again to listen to his music. Perhaps he alone did this and perhaps all of
his people did it. His people had once been great makers of songs so that everything they
saw or thought or did or heard became a song. That was very long ago. The songs
remained; Kino knew them, but no new songs were added. That does not mean that there
were no personal songs. In Kino's head there was a song now, clear and soft, and if he
had been able to speak of it, he would have called it the Song of the Family.
His blanket was over his no to protect him from the dank air. His eyes flicked to a
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rustle beside him. It was Juana arising, almost soundlessly. On her hard bare feet she
went to the hanging box where Coyotito slept, and she leaned over and said a little
reassuring word. Coyotito looked up for a moment and clod his eyes and slept again.
Juana went to the fire pit and uncovered a coal and fanned it alive while she broke little
pieces of brush over it.
Now Kino got up and wrapped his blanket about his head and no and shoulders. He
slipped his feet into his sandals and went outside to watch the dawn.
Outside the door he squatted down and gathered the blanket ends about his knees. He saw the specks of Gulf clouds flame high in the air. And a goat came near and sniffed at him and stared with its cold yellow eyes. Behind him Juana’s fire leaped into flame and threw spears of light through the chinks of the brush-hou wall and threw a wavering square of light out the door. A late moth blustered in to find the fire. The Song of the Family came now from behind Kino. And the rhythm of the family song was the grinding stone where Juana worked the corn for the morning cakes.
The dawn came quickly now, a wash, a glow, a lightness, and then an explosion of fire as
reciprocitythe sun aro out of the Gulf. Kino looked down to cover his eyes from the glare. He
could hear the pat of the corncakes in the hou and the rich smell of them on the cookingrelax什么意思
plate. The ants were busy on the ground, big black ones with shiny bodies, and little
dusty quick ants. Kino watched with the detachment of God while a dusty ant frantically
urbantried to escape the sand trap an ant lion had dug for him. A thin, timid dog came clo
and, at a soft word from Kino, curled up, arranged its tail neatly over its feet, and laid its
chin delicately on the pile. It was a black dog with yellow-gold spots where its eyebrows
should have been. It was a morning like other mornings and yet perfect among mornings.
Kino heard the creak of the rope when Juana took Coyotito out of his hanging box and
cleaned him and hammocked him in her shawl in a loop that placed him clo to her
