First draft snippets from Ny Mane is Jeo:

The sky was darkening rapidly when they had finished eating and rolled out their blankets. George dug in one of her bags and fished out a small comb. This is celluloid, she said with a hint of pride. I don't want to lose it. She gave several swipes through her ragged hair then held it out to him.

Here, boy, she said. Might as well see what you can do. You are a pitiful sight, for sure.

Imitating her actions, he applied the comb to his mop but it got stuck immediately. She helped him unentangle it.

You know, boy, she said conversationally. We could cut that in a blessed minute. I'll show you what I do for my hair.

She stepped back to her saddle, dug in the bag that hung always from the saddle horn, and extracted a large, well worn knife.

With her left hand she swept up her hair to the top of her head then took the knife to it. The knife was sharp and cut through the strands readily. She let it fall and there was a perfect fit, short in front and longer in back, kept well away from her face.

You want me to do that to your hair? After it is shorter, you can comb it.

He nodded hesitantly. His grimace was a question and she answered, No, it doesn't hurt a bit. Here, sit down here, David, just to steady you. This won't take but a minute.

The boy sat obediently and held rigidly still. She grasped the tangle of his hair and applied the knife to the roots. It came off in great bunches; she laid each dirty handful in a pile. When she was done, it was jagged but his hair was much thinner and most of the snarls were gone. Picking up her comb she started combing from the tips of each strand and worked her way upward. From time to time she picked up the knife and cut out a clotted mass. Ten minutes later she was done and he raised his hand in wonderment, feeling his head. He gave her a tentative smile and she ruffled his hair.

See? It's more civilized, for sure. Now, pick up your cut off hair and let's burn it, throw it in the embers. No point in letting some witch or a hoo haw or a sorcer get ahold of it.

He flashed her a startled look and she nodded grimly. But no problems, she said. We'll get rid of it good.

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Someday when you grow up you'll find yourself a girl and get married. Don't shake your head at me, boy. It's the usual thing. And don't worry about not talking. Lots of women would like their man not to say a word.    After the I Do, that is.

He raised an expressive eyebrow and she expanded. That's when the preacher asks you Do you take this woman to be your awful wedded wife and you say, I do. Now, I don't know, she said conversationally , why he calls the woman 'awful', I expect it actually means that it is full of awe. Anyway, everybody promises the same thing, so no problems.

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Can you read? She looked over at him. He shook his head mutely.

Well, I declare. Humph. That would have made your life easier, I expect. On 'tother hand I've never been much for book learning myself. Just about everything I know I learned from what I have seen and what I have thought of by myself.

Still it would have made your life easier, no doubt about it. Everybody should know how to read. She looked at him again. The boy's tan face had turned a dull red and his eyes flashed at her with hurt pride and resentment.

Well, I declare. And that's all I will say about that."