All whirled around and came back, and they gathered fine
gifts from my boughs-enough to fill their saddlebags.
"Where are you going in such a rush?"
"To see the Holy Babe!" they cried.
"Why not take me?" I asked.
"Yeah! Let's take the whole tree!"
So, with merry shouts, they pulled me up and carried me away
to the Holy Babe in the hay box.
Chapter 10
Every Preaching Sunday morning, right after services were
finished and we were ready to leave the church grounds, Papa said
two things, one to the mules, the other to Mama.
He'd get Belle and Puddin' Foot unhitched and backed away
from our oak tree and headed toward the main road; then he'd give
the mules a light slap with the reins and say, "Belle! Puddin'
Foot! Quit moving like molasses! There's such a thing as getting
home 'fore dark!" Then he'd look around at Mama and say, "Nannie,
looks like on preaching days you invite everybody and his dog to
go home with us for dinner!"
And every single time, Mama would smile up at Papa and say,
"Well, ain't you glad the dogs don't come!"
Then they would laugh, and we'd ride on home.
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