“I don’t git along with kids,” he says, stubborn. “Got so’s I never have anythin’ to do with ’em. Mostly I never have anythin’ to do with anybody but Dad.”
“Why?”
“We jest don’t git along. It’s on account of our bein’ shiftless. I’ve had to lick a sight of kids on account of callin’ me or Dad names. And then their Mas see ’em playin’ with me and makes ’em stop—and I have to lick ’em on that account.”
“Why don’t their Mas want them to play with you?”
“’Cause we’re shiftless.”
“My mother wouldn’t care.”
“Bet she would.”
“Anyhow, Dad wouldn’t. You seen him. He told you to come around, didn’t he?”
“I hain’t never seen anybody jest like your Dad before,” says Catty. “Mostly I get told to clear out.”
“Aw, shucks!” says I.