After several attempts to get him to play, Little Ann gave up.
Together they started sniffing around in the underbrush.
As I walked up in front of the store, Grandpa hollered at me from the barn.
I went over to him. Right away he wanted to know all about Rubin’s accident.
He listened while I told the story over again. After I had had my say, Grandpa stood looking down at the ground.
There was a deep frown on his face, and a hurt look in his eyes.
His quietness made me feel uneasy. He finally raised his head and looked at me.
What I could see in his friendly old face tore at my heart.
It seemed that there were more wrinkles than I had ever seen before.
His uncombed, iron- gray hair looked almost white.
I noticed that his wrinkled old hand trembled as he rubbed the wire-stiff stubble on his chin.
In a low voice that quivered as he talked, he said, “Billy, I’m sorry about all this.
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