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Chapter 22
An’combyourhair.»UncleJohnlookedpaleandsick.Therewasaredbruisedplaceonhischin.
Pademanded,«What’sthematter?»
«TheCommittee,"Macried.«They’sacommittee—aladies’committeea-comin’tovisit.Gitupnow,an’gitwashed.An’whilewewasa-sleepin’an’a-snorin’,Tom’swentoutan’gotwork.Gitup,now.»
Theycamesleepilyoutofthetent.UncleJohnstaggeredalittle,andhisfacewaspained.
«Gitovertothathouseandwashup,"Maordered.«Wegottogetbreakfus’an’bereadyfortheCommittee.»Shewenttoalittlepileofsplitwoodinthecamplot.Shestartedafireandputuphercookingirons.«Pone,"shesaidtoherself.«Ponean’gravy.That’squick.Gottobequick.»Shetalkedontoherself,andRuthieandWinfieldstoodby,wondering.
Thesmokeofthemorningfiresarosealloverthecamp,andthemutteroftalkcamefromallsides.
RoseofSharon,unkemptandsleepy-eyed,crawledoutofthetent.Maturnedfromthecornmealshewasmeasuringinfistfuls.Shelookedatthegirl’swrinkleddirtydress,atherfrizzleduncombedhair.«Yougottocleanup,"shesaidbriskly.«Gorightoverandcleanup.Yougotacleandress.Iwashedit.Gityourhaircombed.Gittheseedsoutayoureyes.»Mawasexcited.
RoseofSharonsaidsullenly,«Idon’feelgood:IwishtConniewouldcome.Idon’tfeellikedoin’nothin’’thoutConnie.»
Maturnedfullaroundonher.Theyellowcornmealclungtoherhandsandwrists.«Rosasharn,"shesaidsternly,«yougitupright.
