Kenneth Bernoska

30%
Flag icon
“Come on,’’ Tom said. “Le’s get Grampa on.’’ Pa and Uncle John and Tom and Al went into the kitchen where Grampa slept, his forehead down on his arms, and a line of drying coffee on the table. They took him under the elbows and lifted him to his feet, and he grumbled and cursed thickly, like a drunken man.
The Grapes of Wrath
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview