The character Joe Summers was described as a "round-faced, jovial man and he ran the coal business" (Jackson 285) with no children and a wife who is thought of as "a scold." His character is given a powerful role with a soft side because of the fact that people fell sorry for him. Right by Summers" side is the village's postmaster Mr. Graves. He too is in a powerful position and claims that he wants to uphold tradition by administering the lottery. However there is no presence of any type of government like a judge or a mayor. It isn't until the character Mrs. Hutchinson, a stereotypical housewife, approaches her acquaintance Mrs. Delacroix, who is also a stereotypical housewife that a major hint comes out about the truth of the lottery. Mrs. Hutchinson tells Mrs. Delacroix that she protests the whole lottery method, after she has seemingly "won," and all Mrs. Delacroix has to say to her acceptingly is "Be a good sport Tessie.".
At this point, certain events start to come through for the reader to realize that something unusual is about to occur. Looking back at the setting, at the beginning, it was bright, warm and during mid-day. An initial insight into the stories dramatic irony is that severe occurrences usually happen in the cold, dark, hard weather. Another clue is the point that for a modern town, there was no sign of religion, which is unusual. Jackson describes the town square with a bank and a post office, but there is no description of any church, which would be common in any normal, religious town. Another clue is that, Mr. Summers runs a Halloween club and there is no portrayal of any club or celebration of Easter or Christmas. To top it off, Jackson talks about children who are gathered building "a great pile of rocks" which is anything but normal. The reader does not know about the ritual of the lottery so this clue is foreshadowing the event. The fact that the reader does not know this basic part of the narration, a technique used by the Ancient Greeks makes the lottery at the end a dramatic irony.
