Here's the first page [basically] of the book I'm reading, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, written by Mildred Taylor:
"'Little Man, would you come on? You keep it up and you're gonna make us late.' My youngest brother paid no attention to me. Grasping more firmly his newspaper-wrapped notebook and his tin-can lunch of cornbread and oil sausages, he continued to concentrate on the dusty road. He lagged several feed behind my other brothers, Stacey and Christopher-John, and me, attempting to keep the rusty Mississippi dust from swelling with each step and drifting back upon his shiny black shoes and the cuffs of his corduroy pants by lifting each foot high before setting it gently down again. Always meticulously neat, six-year-old Little Man never allowed dirt or tears or stains to mar anything he owned. Today was no exception."
Stay tuned for my thoughts after I finish!
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