"Where you want to go? What you want to do? The truth was that we were becoming tired of the formlessness of our summer days."Let's go see can we find some locusts there. Y'all got 'em all while they was still green." Tell you what," said Joey finally,his eyes sparkling, "Let's go to Miss Lottie's."
"Who out there you better git !The children screamed with delight, dropped their pebbles and joined the crazy dance, swarming around Miss Lottie like bees and chanting, "Old lady witch!" while she screamed curses at us. I did not join the merriment when the kids gathered again under the oak in our bare yard. Suddenly I was ashamed and I did not like being ashamed."
"Miss Lottie dies long ago and many years have passed since I last saw her hurt, completely barren at last, for despite my wild contrition she never planted marigolds again. Yet there are times when the image of those passionate yellow mounds returns with a painful poignancy. For one does not have to be ignorant and poor to find that one's life is barren as the dusty yards of one's town. And I too have planted marigolds."