The morning of June 27th was clear

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers
were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in
the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o'clock; in some towns there were so many
people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 2th. but in this village, where there
were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten
o'clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.
The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling of
liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke
into boisterous play. and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and reprimands.
Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his
example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the
villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the
square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves,
looking over their shoulders at rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.
Soon the men began to gather. surveying their own children, speaking of planting and rain, tractors and
taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they
smiled rather than laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters, came shortly after
their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands.
Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began to call to their children, and the children came
reluctantly, having to be called four or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother's grasping hand
and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came quickly and
took his place between his father and his oldest brother.
The lottery was conducted--as were the square dances, the teen club, the Halloween program--by Mr.
Summers. who had time and energy to devote to civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial man and he
ran the coal business, and people were sorry for him. because he had no children and his wife was a
scold. When he arrived in the square, carrying the black wooden box, there was a murmur of
conversation among the villagers, and he waved and called. "Little late today, folks." The postmaster, Mr.
Graves, followed him, carrying a three- legged stool, and the stool was put in the center of the square and
Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. The villagers kept their distance, leaving a space between
themselves and the stool. and when Mr. Summers said, "Some of you fellows want to give me a hand?"
there was a hesitation before two men. Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter. came forward to hold the
box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers stirred up the papers inside it.
The original paraphernalia for the lottery had been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on the
stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born. Mr.
Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but no one liked to upset even as
much tradition as was represented by the black box. There was a story that the present box had been
made with some pieces of the box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed when the first
people settled down to make a village here. Every year, after the lottery, Mr. Summers began talking
again about a new box, but every year the subject was allowed to fade off without anything's being done.
file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (1 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM
The Lottery--Shirley Jackson
The black box grew shabbier each year: by now it was no longer completely black but splintered badly
along one side to show the original wood color, and in some places faded or stained.
Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter, held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers had
stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much of the ritual had been forgotten or
discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of paper substituted for the chips of wood
that had been used for generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued. had been all very well
when the village was tiny, but now that the population was more than three hundred and likely to keep on
growing, it was necessary to use something that would fit more easily into he black box. The night before
the lottery, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper and put them in the box, and it was
then taken to the safe of Mr. Summers' coal company and locked up until Mr. Summers was ready to take
it to the square next morning. The rest of the year, the box was put way, sometimes one place, sometimes
another; it had spent one year in Mr. Graves's barn and another year underfoot in the post office. and
sometimes it was set on a shelf in the Martin grocery and left there.
There was a great deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There were
the lists to make up--of heads of families. heads of households in each family. members of each
household in each family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the postmaster, as the
official of the lottery; at one time, some people remembered, there had been a recital of some sort,
performed by the official of the lottery, a perfunctory. tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each
year; some people believed that the official of the lottery used to stand just so when he said or sang it,
others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people, but years and years ago this p3rt of the
ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a ritual salute, which the official of the lottery had
had to use in addressing each person who came up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with
time, until now it was felt necessary only for the official to speak to each person approaching. Mr.
Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt and blue jeans. with one hand resting
carelessly on the black box. he seemed very proper and important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves
and the Martins.
Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers, Mrs. Hutchinson came
hurriedly along the path to the square, her sweater thrown over her shoulders, and slid into place in the
back of the crowd. "Clean forgot what day it was," she said to Mrs. Delacroix, who stood next to her, and
they both laughed softly. "Thought my old man was out back stacking wood," Mrs. Hutchinson went on.
"and then I looked out the window and the kids was gone, and then I remembered it was the twentyseventh
and came a-running." She dried her hands on her apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said, "You're in time,
though. They're still talking away up there."
Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and children standing
near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her way through
the crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through: two or three people said. in voices
just loud enough to be heard across the crowd, "Here comes your, Missus, Hutchinson," and "Bill, she
made it after all." Mrs. Hutchinson reached her husband, and Mr. Summers, who had been waiting, said
cheerfully. "Thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie." Mrs. Hutchinson said.
grinning, "Wouldn't have me leave m'dishes in the sink, now, would you. Joe?," and soft laughter ran
through the crowd as the people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson's arrival.
"Well, now." Mr. Summers said soberly, "guess we better get started, get this over with, so's we can go
back to work. Anybody ain't here?"
file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (2 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM
The Lottery--Shirley Jackson
"Dunbar." several people said. "Dunbar. Dunbar."
Mr. Summers consulted his list. "Clyde Dunbar." he said. "That's right. He's broke his leg, hasn't he?
Who's drawing for him?"
"Me. I guess," a woman said. and Mr. Summers turned to look at her. "Wife draws for her husband." Mr.
Summers said. "Don't you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janey?" Although Mr. Summers and
everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well, it was the business of the official of the
lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an expression of polite interest while
Mrs. Dunbar answered.
"Horace's not but sixteen vet." Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. "Guess I gotta fill in for the old man this
year."
"Right." Sr. Summers said. He made a note on the list he was holding. Then he asked, "Watson boy
drawing this year?"
A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand. "Here," he said. "I'm drawing for my mother and me." He blinked
his eyes nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said thin#s like "Good fellow,
lack." and "Glad to see your mother's got a man to do it."
"Well," Mr. Summers said, "guess that's everyone. Old Man Warner make it?"
"Here," a voice said. and Mr. Summers nodded.
A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. "All ready?" he
called. "Now, I'll read the names--heads of families first--and the men come up and take a paper out of
the box. Keep the paper folded in your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn.
Everything clear?"
The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions: most of them were
quiet. wetting their lips. not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised on

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 2:

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers
were blossoming Profusely and the grass was Richly Green. The people of the Village began to gather in
the square, between the Post Office and the Bank, Around Ten o'clock; Some towns were in there so many
people that took the Lottery Two days and had to be Started on June 2th. but in this Village, where there
were only Three Hundred About people, the whole Lottery took less than Two hours, so it could BEGIN at Ten
o'clock in the Morning and still be in time to Allow Through the Villagers to Get Home for Noon. Dinner.
The children assembled First, of course. School was recently over for the Summer, and the Feeling of
Liberty on SAT Uneasily Most of them; Together they tended to gather for a while before they broke Quietly
Into Play Boisterous. and their talk was still of the Classroom and the teacher, of Books and reprimands.
Bobby Martin had already Stuffed his pockets full of Stones, and the Other Boys Soon followed his
example, selecting the smoothest and roundest Stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the
Villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy" - eventually Made a Great Pile of Stones Corner in one of the
square and guarded it against the raids of the Other Boys. The girls stood aside, talking among themselves,
over their shoulders Looking at Rolled in the dust or clung to the Hands of their older Brothers or Sisters.
Soon the Men began to gather. Surveying their own children, and PLANTING Speaking of rain, tractors and
taxes. Together they stood, Away from the Pile of Stones in the Corner, and their jokes were quiet and they
smiled rather than laughed. The Women, wearing dresses and Sweaters Faded House, Came shortly after
their Menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged gossip as they went to join BITS of their husbands.
Soon the Women, standing by their husbands, their children began to Call to, and the children Came
reluctantly, having to be Called Four or Five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his Mother's Grasping Hand
and ran, laughing, Back to the Pile of Stones. His Father spoke up sharply, and Bobby Came Quickly and
took his Place between his Father and his Oldest BROTHER.
The Lottery was conducted - as were the square dances, the teen Club, the Halloween Program - by Mr.
Summers. who had time and energy to devote to civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial Man and He
ran the Coal business, and people were sorry for Him. because He had no children and his Wife was a
Scold. When He arrived in the square, carrying the Black wooden box, there was a Murmur of
Conversation among the Villagers, and He waved and Called. "Little late today, folks.". The postmaster, Mr.
Graves, followed Him, carrying a Three- legged stool, and the stool was Put in the Center of the square and
Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. Villagers kept their the Distance, Leaving a Space between
themselves and the stool. and when Mr. Summers said, "Some of fellows You Want to give Me a Hand?"
there was a hesitation before Two Men. Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter. Came Forward to Hold the
box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers stirred up the papers Inside it.
The Original Lost Paraphernalia for the Lottery had been long ago, and the Black box now resting on the
stool had been even before use Put Into Old. Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born. Mr.
Summers spoke to the Frequently Villagers About Making a New box, but no one liked to Upset even as
much tradition as was represented by the Black box. There was a Story that the present box had been
Made with Some pieces of the box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed when the First
people settled down to Make a Village here. Every year, after the Lottery, Mr. Summers began talking
again About a New box, but every year the subject was allowed to Fade Without anything's being done off.
file: ///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (1 of. 8) 23/01/2005 7:58:04 AM
The Lottery - Shirley Jackson
The Black box Shabbier grew each year: by now it was no Longer completely Black Splintered but badly
along one Side to the Original Wood Color Show, and in. Stained or Faded Some Places.
Mr. Oldest Martin and his Son, Baxter, held the Black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers had
stirred the papers thoroughly with his Hand. Because so much of the Ritual had been forgotten or
discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of Paper substituted for the chips of Wood
that had been used for Generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued. had been all very well
when the Village was tiny, but now that the population was more than Three Hundred and likely to Keep on
Growing, it was necessary to use more easily Something that would Fit Into Black He box. The Night before
the Lottery, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves up the slips Made of Paper and Put them in the box, and it was
then taken to the Safe of Mr. Summers' Coal Company and locked up until Mr. Summers was Ready. to take
it to the next square Morning. The Rest of the year, the box was Put Way, sometimes Place one, sometimes
another; He had spent one year in Mr. Graves's barn and another year underfoot in the post office. and
sometimes it was on a Shelf in the SET Martin Grocery and left there.
There was a Great Deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared open the Lottery. There were
the lists to Make up - of Heads of Families. heads of households in each family. Members of each
Household in each Family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the postmaster, as the
Official of the Lottery; at one time, Some people Remembered, there had been a Recital of Some sort,
performed by the Official of the Lottery, a Perfunctory. Tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each
year; Some people believed that the Official of the Lottery used to stand just so when He said Sang or it,
others believed that He was supposed to Walk among the people, but years and years ago this P3rt of the
Ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a Ritual Salute, which the Official of the Lottery had
had to use in addressing each person Who Came up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with
time, until now it was felt necessary only for the. official to speak to each person approaching. Mr.
Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt and blue jeans. Hand with one resting
on the Black Carelessly box. He seemed very proper and important as Interminably He talked to Mr. Graves
and the Martins.
Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled Villagers, Mrs. Hutchinson Came
Hurriedly along the path to the square, Her Sweater thrown over. Her shoulders, and slid Into Place in the
Back of the crowd. "Clean Day Forgot what it was," She said to Mrs. Delacroix, Who stood next to Her, and
they both laughed softly. "Thought My Old Man was out Back Stacking Wood," Mrs. Hutchinson went on.
"and then I looked out the Window and the Kids was gone, and it was then I Remembered the Twentyseventh
and Came a-running. ". She Dried Her Hands on Her Apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said, "You're in time,
though. They're still talking Away up there. "
Mrs. Her neck craned Hutchinson to See Through the crowd and Found Her Husband and children standing
near the Front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the ARM as a Farewell and began to Make Her Way Through
the crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through: two or three people said. Voices in
just Loud Enough to be Heard Across the crowd, "Here comes your, Missus, Hutchinson," and "Bill, She
Made it after all. ". Mrs. Hutchinson reached Her Husband, and Mr. Summers, Who had been Waiting, said
Cheerfully. "Thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie.". Mrs. Hutchinson said.
grinning, "Would not Leave Me have M'dishes in the Sink, now, would You. Joe ?," and ran Soft Laughter
Through the crowd as the people stirred Back Into position after Mrs. Hutchinson's arrival.
"Well, now." Mr. Summers said soberly, "Guess we better Get Started, Get this over with, so's we Can Go
Back to Work. Anybody is not here? "
file: ///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (2 of. 8) 23/01/2005 7:58:04 AM
The Lottery - Shirley Jackson
"Dunbar.". several people said. "Dunbar. Dunbar."
Mr. Summers consulted his list. "Clyde Dunbar." he said. "That's Right. He's broke his Leg, has not He?
Who's Drawing for Him? "
"Me. I Guess," said a Woman. and Mr. Summers turned to look at her. "Wife draws for her husband.". Mr.
Summers said. "Do not you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janey?". Although Mr. Summers and
everyone in the Village Else Knew the answer perfectly well, it was the business of the Official of the
Lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an Expression of polite interest while
Mrs. Dunbar answered.
"Horace's not but Sixteen vet.". Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. "Guess I gotta fill in for the Old Man this
year. "
"Right.". Sr. Summers said. He made ​​a note on the list he was holding. He then asked, "Watson Boy
Drawing this year? "
A tall Boy in the crowd raised his Hand. "Here," he said. "I'm drawing for my mother and me.". He blinked
his eyes nervously and ducked his Head as several Voices in the crowd said thin # s like "Good fellow,
Lack. ". and "Glad to See your Mother's got a Man ​​to do it."
"Well," Mr. Summers said, "Guess that's everyone. Old Man Warner Make it?"
"Here," a Voice said. and Mr. Summers nodded.
A Sudden Hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. "All ready?" He
Called. "Now, I'll read the names - Heads of Families First - and the Men Come up and take a Paper out of
the box. Keep the Paper folded in your Hand Without Looking at it until everyone has had a turn.
Everything. Clear? "
The people had done it so many times that they only listened to the Half Directions: Most of them were
quiet. wetting their lips. not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised on

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 3:

The morning of June 27th was clear, and sunny with the fresh warmth of a full - summer day; the flowers
were blossoming profusely. And the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in
the square between the, post office and the. Bank around ten, O 'clock; in some towns there were so many
people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on. June 2th.But in, this village where there
were only about three, hundred people the whole lottery took less than two hours so it,, Could begin at ten
o 'clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.
The. Children, assembled first of course. School was recently over for, the summer and the feeling of
liberty sat uneasily on. Most of them;They tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke
into boisterous play. And their talk was still of. The classroom and the teacher of books, and reprimands.
Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full, of stones and. The other boys soon followed his
example selecting the, smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie. Delacroix - the
.Villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy" - eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the
square and guarded. It against the raids of the other boys. The girls, stood aside talking among themselves
looking, over their shoulders at. Rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.
Soon the men began to gather. Surveying their. Own, childrenSpeaking of planting, and rain tractors and
taxes. They stood together away from, the pile of stones in, the corner and. Their jokes were quiet and they
smiled rather than laughed. The women wearing faded, house dresses and sweaters came shortly,, After
their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands.
Soon the. Women.Standing by their husbands began to, call to, their children and the children came
reluctantly having to, be called four. Or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother 's grasping hand
and, ran laughing back to, the pile of stones. His father. Spoke up sharply and Bobby, came quickly and
took his place between his father and his oldest brother.
.The lottery was conducted--as were the square dances the club, teen, Halloween the program--by Mr.
Summers. Who had time. And energy to devote to civic activities. He was, a round-faced jovial man and he
ran the coal business and people, were. Sorry for him. Because he had no children and his wife was a
scold. When he arrived in the square carrying the, black wooden. Box there was, a murmur of
.Conversation among, the villagers and he waved and called. "Little, late today folks." The postmaster Mr.
Graves followed,,, Him carrying a, three - legged stool and the, stool was put in the center of the square and
Mr. Summers set the black box. Down on it. The villagers kept their distance leaving a, space between
themselves and the stool. And when Mr, Summers said."Some of you fellows want to give me a hand?"
there was a hesitation before two men. Mr. Martin and his oldest son Baxter,,. Came forward to hold the
box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers stirred up the papers inside it.
The original paraphernalia. For the lottery had been lost, long ago and the black box now resting on the
stool had been put into use even before Old. Man, WarnerThe oldest man, in town was born. Mr.
Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box but no, one liked. To upset even as
much tradition as was represented by the black box. There was a story that the present box had been
made. With some pieces of the box that had, preceded it the one that had been constructed when the first
people settled down to. Make a village here, Every year.After, the lottery Mr. Summers began talking
again about a new box but every, year the subject was allowed to fade off. Without anything 's being done.
file: / / / / / / Users carolynsigler Desktop lotry.html (1 of 8) 1 / 23 / 2005 7: 58: 04 AM
The Lottery--Shirley. Jackson
The black box grew shabbier each year: by now it was no longer completely black but splintered badly
.Along one side to show the original, wood color and in some places faded or stained.
Mr. Martin and his oldest son Baxter,,, Held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers had
stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much. Of the ritual had been forgotten, or
discarded Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of paper substituted for. The chips of wood
.That had been used for generations. Chips, of wood Mr. Summers had argued. Had been all very well
when the village was. Tiny but now, that the population was more than three hundred and likely to keep on
growing it was, necessary to use something. That would fit more easily into he black box. The night before
the, lottery Mr. Summers and Mr.Graves made up the slips of paper and put them in, the box and it was
then taken to the safe of Mr. Summers coal company. ' And locked up until Mr. Summers was ready to take
it to the square next morning. The rest of the year the box, was, put way. Sometimes, one place sometimes
another; it had spent one year in Mr. Graves' s barn and another year underfoot in the post. Office. And
.Sometimes it was set on a shelf in the Martin grocery and left there.
There was a great deal of fussing to be done before. Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There were
the lists to make up - of heads of families. Heads of households in each. Family. Members of each
household in each family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by, the postmaster as. The
official of the lottery;At, one time some people remembered there had, been a recital of some sort
performed, by the official of, the lottery a. Perfunctory. Tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each
year; some people believed that the official of the lottery. Used to stand just so when he said or, sang it
others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people but years,, And years ago this p3rt of the
.Ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been also a ritual salute,,, the which official of the lottery had
had to use. In addressing each person who came up to draw from, the box but this also had changed with
time until now, it was felt necessary. Only for the official to speak to each person approaching. Mr.
Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt. And blue jeans.With one hand resting
carelessly on the black box. He seemed very proper and important as he talked interminably to, Mr. Graves
and the Martins.
Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the, assembled villagers Mrs. Hutchinson. Came
hurriedly along the path to, the square her sweater thrown over, her shoulders and slid into place in the
back of the. Crowd."Clean forgot what day it was," she said to Mrs. Delacroix who stood, next, to her and
they both laughed softly. "Thought. My old man was out back stacking wood, "Mrs. Hutchinson went on.
." and then I looked out the window and the kids, was gone. And then I remembered it was the twentyseventh
and came a-running. "She dried her hands on, her apron and Mrs. Delacroix. Said, "You 're, in time
though.They 're still talking away up there. "
Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and. Children standing
near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her way through
the. Crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through: two or three people said. In voices
just loud enough to be. Heard across, the crowd"Here comes your Missus Hutchinson,,,," and "Bill she
made it after all." Mrs. Hutchinson reached, her husband and Mr.? Summers who had, been, waiting said
cheerfully. "Thought we were going to have to get on, without you Tessie." Mrs. Hutchinson. Said.
grinning, "Wouldn 't have me leave M' dishes in the sink now would,, you. Joe?" and soft laughter ran
.Through the crowd as the people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson 's arrival.
", Well now." Mr. Summers said. Soberly, "guess we better, get started get this over with so ', s we can go
back to work. Anybody ain' t here?"
file: / / / / / / Users carolynsigler Desktop lotry.html. (2 of 8) 1 / 23 / 2005 7: 58: 04 AM
The Lottery--Shirley Jackson
"Dunbar." several people said. "Dunbar. Dunbar."
Mr.Summers consulted his list. "Clyde Dunbar." he said. "That 's right. He' s broke, his leg hasn 't he?
Who' s drawing for him?"
", Me. I guess, "a woman said. And Mr. Summers turned to look at her." Wife draws for her husband. "Mr.
Summers said." Don t you. ' Have a grown boy to do it, for you Janey? "Although Mr. Summers and
everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly. Well.It was the business of the official of the
lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an expression. Of polite interest while
Mrs. Dunbar answered.
. "Horace 's not but sixteen vet." Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. "Guess I gotta. Fill in for the old man this

year. "" Right. "Sr. Summers said. He made a note on the list he was holding. Then, he asked. "Watson boy

. Drawing this year?"A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand. "Here," he said. "I 'm drawing for my mother and me." He blinked
his eyes nervously. And ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said thin # s like ", Good fellow
lack." and "Glad to see your mother s. ' Got a man to do it. "
" Well, "Mr. Summers said," guess that 's everyone. Old Man Warner make it? "
" Here, "a voice said. And. Mr. Summers nodded.
.A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. "All ready?" he
called. "Now,, I 'll read the names--heads of families first - and the men come up and take a paper out of
the box. Keep the paper folded. In your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn.

. Everything clear? "The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions: most of them were
quiet. Wetting their. Lips. Not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised on.