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The lottery by Shirley Jackson the morning of June 27th was clear and sunny.

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गति:

179 वाक्य

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The lottery by Shirley Jackson 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 10 o'clock, in some towns there were so many people

that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 26,

but in this village.

Where there were only about 300 people,

the whole lottery took only about two hours.

So it could begin at 10 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,

Delacroix,

eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square

and guarded it against the rates of the other boys.

The girls stood aside, talking among themselves,

looking over their shoulders at the boys,

and The very small children 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 teenage 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 any things being done.

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 with color,

and in some places faded or stained dot M-R.

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.

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 the black box.

The night before the lottery,

Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper and put them into 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 away,

sometimes one place, sometimes another.

It had spent one year in Mr. Graves' 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,

100

performed by the official of the lottery,

101

a perfunctory, tuneless chant that had been rattled off duly each year.

102

Some people believed that the official of the lottery used to stand just so when he said or sang it.

103

Others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people,

104

but years and years ago this part of the ritual had been allowed to lapse.

105

There had been, also, a ritual salute,

106

which the official of the lottery had had to use in addressing each person who came up to draw from the box,

107

but this also had changed with time.

108

Until now it was felt necessary only for the official to speak to each person approaching.

109

Mr. Summers was very good at all this,

110

in his clean white shirt and blue jeans with one hand resting carelessly on the black box,

111

he seemed very proper and important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves and the Martins.

112

Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers,

113

Mrs. Hutchinson came hurriedly along the path to the square,

114

her sweater thrown over her shoulders,

115

and slid into place in the back of the crowd.

116

Clean forgot what day it was,

117

she said to Mrs. Delacroix,

118

who stood next to her,

119

and they both laughed softly.

120

Thought my old man was out back stacking wood,

121

Mrs. Hutchinson went on, and then I looked out the window and the kids was gone,

122

and then I remembered it was the 27th and K-May running.

123

She dried her hands on her apron and Mrs. Delacroix said,

124

You're in time, though.

125

They're still talking away up there.

126

Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and children standing near the front.

127

She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her way through the crowd.

128

The people separated good-humoredly to let her through.

129

Two or three people said,

130

and voices just loud enough to be heard across the crowd.

131

Here comes your Mrs. Hutchinson and Bill,

132

she made it after all.

133

Mrs. Hutchinson reached her husband,

134

and Mr. Summers, who had been waiting,

135

said cheerfully, thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie.

136

Mrs. Hutchinson said, grinning, wouldn't have me leave em dishes in the sink.

137

Now would you, Joe?" and soft laughter ran through the crowd as the people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson's arrival.

138

Well, now, Mr. Summers said soberly,

139

Guess we better get started,

140

get this over with, so's we can go back to work.

141

Anybody ain't here?

142

Dunbar, several people said.

143

Dunbar, Dunbar.

144

Mr. Summers consulted his list.

145

Clyde Dunbar, he said.

146

That's right.

147

He's broke his leg, hasn't he?

148

Who's drawing for him?

149

Me, I guess, a woman said,

150

and Mr. Summers turned to look at her.

151

Wife draws for her husband, Mr. Summers said.

152

Don't you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janie?

153

Although Mr. Summers and everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well,

154

it was the business of the official of the lottery to ask such questions formally.

155

Mr. Summers waited with an expression of polite interest while Mrs. Dunbar answered.

156

Horace is not but sixteen yet, Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully.

157

Guess I got a fill-in for the old man this year.

158

Right, Mr. Summers said.

159

He made a note on the list he was holding.

160

Then he asked, Watson boy drawing this year?

161

A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand.

162

Here he said, I'm drawing for a mother in me.

163

He blinked his eyes nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said things like,

164

Good fellow, Jack, and Glad to see your mother's got a man to do it.

165

Well, Mr. Summers said, guess that's everyone.

166

Old man Warner make it.

167

Here a voice said, and Mr. Summers nodded.

168

A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list.

169

Already, he called.

170

Now I'll read the names heads of families first,

171

and the men come up and take a paper out of the box.

172

Keep the paper folded in your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn.

173

Everything clear?

174

The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions.

175

Most of them were quiet,

176

wetting their lips, not looking around.

177

Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and said, Adams.

178

A man disengaged himself from the crowd and came forward.

179

Hi, Steve, Mr. Somerset.

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