Year of Wonders

by Geraldine Brooks

So I was uncommonly glad, one morning as I went out to battle with the well bucket, to mark my father approaching, for I could not think he would grudge me a hand. He was staggering, which was not unusual, but not, this day, from drink. As he advanced, I saw that it was the weight of what he carried that unbalanced him—a large sack that clanked as he walked. He was so bent by the load that I think he might have passed without marking me but when I gave him a good day, he raised his head and hailed me in turn. As he set down the sack, I heard the clang of metal plate. “Eh, girl, and it is a good day, for Widow Brown has paid me in pewter for the graves of her man and boy. I suppose I should thank ye, for learning me the lesson that there’s a profit in the hole-digging trade, these days.”