I kept whispering my Aunt Vic piece over and over to myself.
But as we were going back toward the church, Mierd and Wiley
talked so long about how many nuts and apples and oranges we
might get in our stockings that I forgot every word Aunt Vic
wanted me to recite!
"Don't cry, for goodness sakes!" Mama told me. "Aunt Vic will
tell you again what to say."
It was dusk before we got within sight of the grist mill and
cotton gin. Mierd and Wiley were quiet. Mama wasn't saying much
either.
When we were about halfway between the gin and Papa's new
store, three men on horseback streaked past our wagon, their
horses running neck and neck!
"I wonder," Mama said, "who's in such an all-fired hurry to
get to the Christmas entertainment."
"That's just them Bailey boys," Wiley said.
"How do you know it's them dumb clucks?" Mierd asked.
"I'd know their bays day or night. They're the prettiest
horses in Drake Eye Springs, and them boys are the meanest."
"Y'all mustn't talk so about them wild, mischievous Bailey
boys.
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