Get me my stick there in the corner,
sugar. I'm sure proud Hawk phoned."
I had a hard time trying to catch up with Grandpa. He wasn't
waiting for me-or his walking cane. And he was almost out to the
front yard gate before I could hand it to him.
Mama was unlatching the gate.
"Nannie, where's Wiley? And Mildredge? They don't want to
miss seeing a automobile!'
Before Mama could tell Grandpa that Mildredge, as he always
called Mierd, was over at Aunt Lovie's, we saw Wiley come
bounding across the corner of our yard, heading toward the road.
Trixie was right with him, and he and that red mammy hound
didn't even look at us, or the gate. Side by side, they skirted
around Mama's cape jasmine bush and went over the fence in one
big leap-like they'd been practicing together for days, Grandpa
said.
"I declare to my soul!" Mama cried. "Wiley, you tore your
pants!"
Mama always said "I declare to my soul" when something went
wrong. If Papa had been there, he would have said "Great
Jehoshaphat and gully dirt!" That's what he hollered when
anything bad happened-torn pants or anything else.
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