The Lottery by Shirley Jackson

The Lottery

by Shirley Jackson

The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the

flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began

to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o'clock; in some towns

there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 2th. but in

this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than

two hours, so it could begin at ten o'clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the

villagers to get home for noon dinner.

The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over for the summer, and the feeling

of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they tended to gather together quietly for a while before

they broke into boisterous play. and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books

and reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys

soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones

and Dickie Delacroix-- the villagers pronounced this name

pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The

girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at rolled in the dust or

clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.

Soon the men began to gather. surveying their own children, speaking of planting and rain,

tractors and taxes. They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes

were quiet and they smiled rather than laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and

sweaters, came shortly after their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip

as they went to join their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began to call to

their children, and the children came reluctantly, having to be called four or five times. Bobby

Martin ducked under his mother's grasping hand and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His

father spoke up sharply, and Bobby came quickly and took his place between his father and his

oldest brother.

The lottery was conducted-- as were the square dances, the teen club, the Halloween program--by

Mr. Summers. who had time and energy to devote to civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial

man and he ran the coal business, and people were sorry for him. because he had no children and

his wife was a scold. When he arrived in the square, carrying the black wooden box, there was a

murmur of conversation among the villagers, and he waved and called.

The postmaster, Mr. Graves, followed him, carrying a three- legged stool, and the stool was put in

the center of the square and Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. The villagers kept their

distance, leaving a space between themselves and the stool. and when Mr. Summers said,

of you fellows want to give me a hand?

his oldest son, Baxter. came forward to hold the box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers

stirred up the papers inside it.

The original paraphernalia for the lottery had been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on

the stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born.

Mr. Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but no one liked to upset

even as much tradition as was represented by the black box. There was a story that the present box

had been made with some pieces of the box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed

when the first people settled down to make a village here. Every year, after the lottery, Mr.

Summers began talking again about a new box, but every year the subject was allowed to fade off

without anything's being done. The black box grew shabbier each year: by now it was no longer

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The Lottery

by Shirley Jackson

completely black but splintered badly along one side to show the original wood color, and in some

places faded or stained.

Mr. Martin and his oldest son, Baxter, held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers

had stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much of the ritual had been forgotten

or discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having slips of paper substituted for the chips

of wood that had been used for generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued. had been

all very well when the village was tiny, but now that the population was more than three hundred

and likely to keep on growing, it was necessary to use something that would fit more easily into he

black box. The night before the lottery, Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper

and put them in the box, and it was then taken to the safe of Mr. Summers' coal company and

locked up until Mr. Summers was ready to take it to the square next morning. The rest of the year,

the box was put way, sometimes one place, sometimes another; it had spent one year in Mr.

Graves's barn and another year underfoot in the post office. and sometimes it was set on a shelf in

the Martin grocery and left there.

There was a great deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There

were the lists to make up--of heads of families. heads of households in each family. members of

each household in each family. There was the proper swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the

postmaster, as the official of the lottery; at one time, some people remembered, there had been a

recital of some sort, performed by the official of the lottery, a perfunctory. tuneless chant that had

been rattled off duly each year; some people believed that the official of the lottery used to stand

just so when he said or sang it, others believed that he was supposed to walk among the people,

but years and years ago this p3rt of the ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a

ritual salute, which the official of the lottery had had to use in addressing each person who came

up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with time, until now it was felt necessary only

for the official to speak to each person approaching. Mr. Summers was very good at all this; in his

clean white shirt and blue jeans. with one hand resting carelessly on the black box. he seemed very

proper and important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves and the Martins.

Just as Mr. Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers, Mrs.

Hutchinson came hurriedly along the path to the square, her sweater thrown over her shoulders,

and slid into place in the back of the crowd.

Delacroix, who stood next to her, and they both laughed softly.

back stacking wood,

was gone, and then I remembered it was the twenty-seventh and came a-running.

hands on her apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said,

up there.

Mrs. Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and children

standing near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a farewell and began to make her

way through the crowd. The people separated good-humoredly to let her through: two or three

people said. in voices just loud enough to be heard across the crowd,

Hutchinson,

Summers, who had been waiting, said cheerfully.

without you, Tessie.

sink, now, would you. Joe?,

into position after Mrs. Hutchinson's arrival.

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The Lottery

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can go back to work. Anybody ain't here?

Mr. Summers consulted his list.

he? Who's drawing for him?

husband.

Summers and everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well, it was the business of

the official of the lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr. Summers waited with an expression

of polite interest while Mrs. Dunbar answered.

this year.

boy drawing this year?

A tall boy in the crowd raised his hand.

blinked his eyes nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd said thin#s like

A sudden hush fell on the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list.

ready?

take a paper out of the box. Keep the paper folded in your hand without looking at it until

everyone has had a turn. Everything clear?

The people had done it so many times that they only half listened to the directions: most of them

were quiet. wetting their lips. not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and

said,

Summers said. and Mr. Adams said.

nervously. Then Mr. Adams reached into the black box and took out a folded paper. He held it

firmly by one corner as he turned and went hastily back to his place in the crowd. where he stood

a little apart from his family. not looking down at his hand.

in the back row.

forward.

said.

box, greeted Mr. Summers gravely and selected a slip of paper from the box. By now, all through

the crowd there were men holding the small folded papers in their large hand. turning them over

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The Lottery

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and over nervously Mrs. Dunbar and her two sons stood together, Mrs. Dunbar holding the slip of

paper.

village they're talking of giving up the lottery.

Old Man Warner snorted.

good enough for them. Next thing you know, they'll be wanting to go back to living in caves,

nobody work any more, live hat way for a while. Used to be a saying about 'Lottery in June, corn

be heavy soon.' First thing you know, we'd all be eating stewed chickweed and acorns. There's

always been a lottery,

joking with everybody.

Mr. Summers called his own name and then stepped forward precisely and selected a slip from the

box. Then he called,

Jack,

After that, there was a long pause, a breathless pause, until Mr. Summers. holding his slip of paper

in the air, said,

were opened. Suddenly, all the women began to speak at once, saving.

it?,

Bill,

People began to look around to see the Hutchinsons. Bill Hutchinson was standing quiet, staring

down at the paper in his hand. Suddenly. Tessie Hutchinson shouted to Mr. Summers.

give him time enough to take any paper he wanted. I saw you. It wasn't fair!

chance.

a little more to get done in time.

Hutchinson family. You got any other households in the Hutchinsons?

as well as anyone else.

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The Lottery

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that's only fair. And I've got no other family except the kids.

Mr. Graves nodded and held up the slips of paper.

directed.

fair. You didn't give him time enough to choose. Everybody saw that.

Mr. Graves had selected the five slips and put them in the box. and he dropped all the papers but

those onto the ground. where the breeze caught them and lifted them off.

and children. nodded.

one. Harry, you help little Dave.

with him up to the box.

hand into the box and laughed.

him.

while little Dave stood next to him and looked up at him wonderingly.

she went forward switching her skirt, and took a slip daintily from the box

Summers said, and Billy, his face red and his feet overlarge, near knocked the box over as he got a

paper out.

then set her lips and went up to the box. She snatched a paper out and held it behind her.

hand out at last with the slip of paper in it.

The crowd was quiet.

A girl whispered

People ain`t the way they used to be.

Mr. Graves opened the slip of paper and there was a general sigh through the crowd as he held it

up and everyone could see that it was blank. Nancy and Bill. Jr.. opened theirs at the same

time.

and both beamed and laughed. turning around to the crowd and holding their slips of paper

above

their heads.

, and Bill unfolded his paper and showed it. It was blank.

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