Explore "For His Country, and Grandmother and the Crow" by Marshall Saunders on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When I was a little girl I lived with my grandmother, and a gay, lively little grandmother she was. Away back in the family was French blood, and I am sure that she resembled French old people, who are usually vivacious and cheerful. On my twelfth birthday I was driving with her through a thick wood, when we heard in front of us the loud shouting and laughing of boys.
"Drive on, George," said my grandmother; "let us see what this is all about."