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“Harry, you maintain it for him.” Mr. Graves took the child’s hand and eliminated the folded paper from the tight fist and held it while little Dave stood next to him and seemed up at him wonderingly. She watched whereas Mr. Graves came round from the side of the field, greeted Mr. Summers gravely, and chosen a slip of paper from the field. By now, all by way of the group there were males holding the small folded papers in their giant palms, turning them over and over nervously. Mrs. Dunbar and her two sons stood together, Mrs. Dunbar holding the slip of paper. Mr. Graves opened the slip of paper and there was a basic sigh via the gang as he held it up and everyone could see that it was clean.
They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to affix their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, started to call to their kids, and the kids came reluctantly, having to be referred to as four or five occasions. Bobby Martin ducked underneath his mother’s grasping hand and ran, laughing, again to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came shortly and took his place between his father and his oldest brother.
Nancy and Bill, Jr., opened theirs at the same time, and both beamed and laughed, turning around to the group and holding their slips of paper above their heads. Soon the boys started to assemble, surveying their very own kids, speaking of planting and rain, tractors and taxes. They stood collectively, away from the pile of stones within the corner, and their jokes had been quiet they usually smiled somewhat than laughed. The women, carrying faded home dresses and sweaters, came shortly after their menfolk.
Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and mentioned, “Adams.” A man disengaged himself from the gang and got here ahead. “Hi, Steve,” Mr. Summers said, and Mr. Adams mentioned, “Hi, Joe.” They grinned at each other humorlessly and nervously. Then Mr. Adams reached into the black field and took out a folded paper. He held it firmly by one nook as he turned and went rapidly back to his place in the crowd, the place he stood somewhat aside from his household, not wanting down at his hand. There was a substantial amount of fussing to be carried out earlier than Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There were the lists to make up—of heads of families, heads of households in each household, members of every family in every household.