Of Mice Men Chapter no 3

Of Mice Men Chapter no 3

This document is Chapter Three of Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, a pivotal chapter set in the ranch bunkhouse where several key events unfold that deepen the novel’s central themes of loneliness, companionship, and the fragility of dreams; the chapter opens with George confiding in the wise and respected Slim about Lennie’s mental limitations and the incident in Weed, revealing the depth of their bond, while a parallel and deeply symbolic episode sees the old, crippled ranch hand Candy forced to allow Carlson to shoot his aging dog — a moment of quiet devastation that foreshadows Lennie’s own fate — after which Candy, having overheard George and Lennie’s shared dream of owning a small farm, eagerly offers his savings to join them, making the dream feel suddenly and thrillingly real for the first time; the chapter closes with explosive tension when the aggressive Curley, jealous and humiliated, attacks Lennie unprovoked, only for Lennie to crush Curley’s hand in terror before being talked down by George, with Slim cleverly ensuring Curley stays silent about the incident to protect George and Lennie’s jobs — and the chapter ends with Lennie’s heartbreaking first concern being whether he can still tend the rabbits.

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CHAPTER THREE
Although there was evening brightness showing through the windows of the bunkhouse,
inside it was dusk. Through the open door came the thuds and occasional clangs of a
horseshoe game, and now and then the sound of voices raised in approval or derision.
Slim and George came into the darkening bunkhouse together. Slim reached up over the
card table and turned on the tin-shaded electric light. Instantly the table was brilliant with
light, and the cone of the shade threw its brightness straight downward, leaving the corners
of the bunkhouse still in dusk. Slim sat down on a box and George took his place opposite.
"It wasn't nothing," said Slim. "I would of had to drowned most of 'em anyways. No need
to thank me about that."
George said, "It wasn't much to you, maybe, but it was a hell of a lot to him. Jesus Christ, I
don't know how we're gonna get him to sleep in here. He'll want to sleep right out in the barn
with 'em. We'll have trouble keepin' him from getting right in the box with them pups."
"It wasn't nothing," Slim repeated. "Say, you sure was right about him. Maybe he ain't
bright, but I never seen such a worker. He damn near killed his partner buckin' barley. There
ain't nobody can keep up with him. God awmighty, I never seen such a strong guy."
George spoke proudly. "Jus' tell Lennie what to do an' he'll do it if it don't take no figuring.
He can't think of nothing to do himself, but he sure can take orders."
There was a clang of horseshoe on iron stake outside and a little cheer of voices.
Slim moved back slightly so the light was not on his face. "Funny how you an' him string
along together." It was Slim's calm invitation to confidence.
"What's funny about it?" George demanded defensively.
"Oh, I dunno. Hardly none of the guys ever travel together. I hardly never seen two guys
travel together. You know how the hands are, they just come in and get their bunk and work
a month, and then they quit and go out alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. It
jus' seems kinda funny a cuckoo like him and a smart little guy like you travelin' together."
"He ain't no cuckoo," said George. "He's dumb as hell, but he ain't crazy. An' I ain't so bright
neither, or I wouldn't be buckin' barley for my fifty and found. If I was bright, if I was even a
little bit smart, I'd have my own little place, an' I'd be bringin' in my own crops, 'stead of doin'
all the work and not getting what comes up outa the ground." George fell silent. He wanted
to talk. Slim neither encouraged nor discouraged him. He just sat back quiet and receptive.
"It ain't so funny, him an' me goin' aroun' together," George said at last. "Him and me was
both born in Auburn. I knowed his Aunt Clara. She took him when he was a baby and raised
him up. When his Aunt Clara died, Lennie just come along with me out workin'. Got kinda
used to each other after a little while."
"Umm," said Slim.
George looked over at Slim and saw the calm, Godlike eyes fastened on him. "Funny," said
George. "I used to have a hell of a lot of fun with 'im. Used to play jokes on 'im 'cause he was
too dumb to take care of 'imself. But he was too dumb even to know he had a joke played on
him. I had fun. Made me seem God damn smart alongside of him. Why he'd do any damn
thing I tol' him. If I tol' him to walk over a cliff, over he'd go. That wasn't so damn much fun
after a while. He never got mad about it, neither. I've beat the hell outa him, and he coulda
bust every bone in my body jus' with his han's, but he never lifted a finger against me."
George's voice was taking on the tone of confession. "Tell you what made me stop that. One
day a bunch of guys was standin' around up on the Sacramento River. I was feelin' pretty
smart. I turns to Lennie and says, 'Jump in.' An' he jumps. Couldn't swim a stroke. He damn
near drowned before we could get him. An' he was so damn nice to me for pullin' him out.
Clean forgot I told him to jump in. Well, I ain't done nothing like that no more."
"He's a nice fella," said Slim. "Guy don't need no sense to be a nice fella. Seems to me
sometimes it jus' works the other way around. Take a real smart guy and he ain't hardly ever
a nice fella."
George stacked the scattered cards and began to lay out his solitaire hand. The shoes
thudded on the ground outside. At the windows the light of the evening still made the window
squares bright.
"I ain't got no people," George said. "I seen the guys that go around on the ranches alone.
That ain't no good. They don't have no fun. After a long time they get mean. They get wantin'
to fight all the time."
"Yeah, they get mean," Slim agreed. "They get so they don't want to talk to nobody."
"'Course Lennie's a God damn nuisance most of the time," said George. "But you get used
to goin' around with a guy an' you can't get rid of him."
"He ain't mean," said Slim. "I can see Lennie ain't a bit mean."
"'Course he ain't mean. But he gets in trouble alla time because he's so God damn dumb.
Like what happened in Weed-" He stopped, stopped in the middle of turning over a card. He
looked alarmed and peered over at Slim. "You wouldn't tell nobody?"
"What'd he do in Weed?" Slim asked calmly.
"You wouldn' tell?... No, 'course you wouldn'."
"What'd he do in Weed?" Slim asked again.
"Well, he seen this girl in a red dress. Dumb bastard like he is, he wants to touch ever'thing
he likes. Just wants to feel it. So he reaches out to feel this red dress an' the girl lets out a
squawk, and that gets Lennie all mixed up, and he holds on 'cause that's the only thing he can
think to do. Well, this girl squawks and squawks. I was jus' a little bit off, and I heard all the
yellin', so I comes running, an' by that time Lennie's so scared all he can think to do is jus' hold
on. I socked him over the head with a fence picket to make him let go. He was so scairt he
couldn't let go of that dress. And he's so God damn strong, you know."
Slim's eyes were level and unwinking. He nodded very slowly. "So what happens?"
George carefully built his line of solitaire cards. "Well, that girl rabbits in an' tells the law
she been raped. The guys in Weed start a party out to lynch Lennie. So we sit in a irrigation
ditch under water all the rest of that day. Got on'y our heads sticking outa water, an' up under
the grass that sticks out from the side of the ditch. An' that night we scrammed outa there."
Slim sat in silence for a moment. "Didn't hurt the girl none, huh?" he asked finally.
"Hell, no. He just scared her. I'd be scared too if he grabbed me. But he never hurt her. He
jus' wanted to touch that red dress, like he wants to pet them pups all the time."
"He ain't mean," said Slim. "I can tell a mean guy a mile off."
"'Course he ain't, and he'll do any damn thing I-"
Lennie came in through the door. He wore his blue denim coat over his shoulders like a
cape, and he walked hunched way over.
"Hi, Lennie," said George. "How you like the pup now?"
Lennie said breathlessly, "He's brown an' white jus' like I wanted." He went directly to his
bunk and lay down and turned his face to the wall and drew up his knees.
George put down his cards very deliberately. "Lennie," he said sharply.
Lennie twisted his neck and looked over his shoulder. "Huh? What you want, George?"
"I tol' you you couldn't bring that pup in here."
"What pup, George? I ain't got no pup."
George went quickly to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him over. He reached
down and picked the tiny puppy from where Lennie had been concealing it against his
stomach.
Lennie sat up quickly. "Give 'um to me, George."
George said, "You get right up an' take this pup back to the nest. He's gotta sleep with his
mother. You want to kill him? Just born last night an' you take him out of the nest. You take
him back or I'll tell Slim not to let you have him."
Lennie held out his hands pleadingly. "Give 'um to me, George. I'll take 'um back. I didn't
mean no harm, George. Honest I didn't. I jus' wanted to pet 'um a little."
George handed the pup to him. "Awright. You get him back there quick, and don't you take
him out no more. You'll kill him, the first thing you know." Lennie fairly scuttled out of the
room.
Slim had not moved. His calm eyes followed Lennie out the door. "Jesus," he said. "He's
jus' like a kid, ain't he?"
"Sure he's jes' like a kid. There ain't no more harm in him than a kid neither, except he's so
strong. I bet he won't come in here to sleep tonight. He'd sleep right alongside that box in the
barn. Well - let 'im. He ain't doin' no harm out there."
It was almost dark outside now. Old Candy, the swamper, came in and went to his bunk,
and behind him struggled his old dog. "Hello, Slim. Hello, George. Didn't neither of you play
horseshoes?"
"I don't like to play ever' night," said Slim.
Candy went on, "Either you guys got a slug of whisky? I gotta gut ache."
"I ain't," said Slim. "I'd drink it myself if I had, an' I ain't got a gut ache neither."
"Gotta bad gut ache," said Candy. "Them God damn turnips give it to me. I knowed they
was going to before I ever eat 'em."
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