A Child\u27s Viewpoint

She beckoned to me, and with much apprehension I entered the door of the shabby unpainted house. Inside, the room was small and dark and almost the entire space was taken up by a big metal-framed bed which stuck out into the middle of the room. A ragged upholstered chair in one corner and a small pot-bellied stove in the other completed the furnishings. The windows, uncurtained, were filthy and one was covered with pieces of a cardboard box where the pane had been broken out

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He took an old Barlow knife from his pocket and eased into the cane bottom chair, tipping it back on two legs against the low stone fence. Methodically, he drew the gleaming blade across a fragrant block of red and yellow cedar. His gnarled, weathered hands moved deftly. He worked intently for some time, honing the block to a soft roundness and piling thin light curls of cedar around his feet. He peered at his companion from singular eyes set below incredibly unmanageable gray brows