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Grandmother
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Grandmother
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Boy Character Analysis |
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Turnip Farmer (Bud)
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I’m a huntin this here tinker.
Tinker? What’d he steal?
Well. Somethin belonged to me.
And what was that?
It was just somethin.
Well come in anyway.
Thank ye, she said.
[…]
Get ye a chair, the man said.
They watched her sit, holding the bundle up before her, the lamp just at her elbow belabored by a moth whose dark shape cast upon her face appeared captive within the delicate skull, the thin and roselit bone, like something kept in a china mask. Lord, she said, I’ve not sat hardly today.