Reggie got down next to Neviel and showed him how to rest his shooter-marble on his index finger and give it a shove with his thumb. Neviel, he said, and the other boys agreed, could shoot very near the edge of the circle since this was his first time. Hanson and Reggie would shoot from a little further out because they were ‘sperienced’ players. And Woody would have to take the furthest out because he was pretty sharp at this game. ‘See how big his pouch of marbles is?’ said Reggie. ‘That’s ‘cause he won ‘em off other players.’
‘Now you try to shoot at the other fellows’ marbles and push them out of the ring. You get to keep those marbles, then. The tricky part is, you have to try to get your shooter out of the ring, too. Or else it’s fair game for others to shoot at.’ Reggie hunched down with his knuckle placed firmly on the floor and took aim. ‘And oh,’ he said before making his shot, ‘no calling “knuckles” in this game.’ He turned to Neviel. ‘That’s where you can put your shooting knuckle on top of one or more of your other hand’s knuckles to lift it up.’ Reggie shook his head. ‘It’s really not a very fair way to play.’
He hunched down a bit and made a good shot at one of Hanson’s marbles. The clear little ball rolled near the edge of the circle, but did not go out. Reggie’s shooter inched its way slowly to the edge of the circle and barely cleared it. ‘Shoot! That was a close one!’ he said snatching up his shooter.
‘Go ahead, Neviel,’ he said scooting back from the ring. ‘Take a couple of practice shots. And oh, you can move wherever you like around the ring to do them.’
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When Summer warms the hanging fruit and burns the berry brown/When straw is gold, and ear is white, and harvest comes to town/When honey spills, and apple swells, though wind be in the West/I'll linger here beneath the Sun, because my land is best!
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