"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. 'Course it's true they sorta took after their ma's folks, and to my knowledge none of Lida Belle's kin—or Wes's—ever killed many snakes. But at the same time, I figure Addie Mae and the three boys do the best they can."
"But, Mama, they—"
"Anyhow, Wiley, I thought you told us the other night that the schoolteacher goes over to the Bailey place on Saturdays to hunt squirrels with the boys and learn them how to read."
"He does. But, Mama, they're still the worst boys in the whole school. Don't nobody like 'em."
As we rode by the store, we saw Papa standing at the back door. Mama pulled up on the reins to make Belle and Pud-din' Foot slow down and called to Papa, "You coming on now?"
"Yeah! I'll be up there in a few minutes! Soon's I can blow out the lights and lock up."
It took Papa more than a few minutes to get to the church. When the house was getting filled up with folks and the tree was sagging with presents and I was already in my Christmas tree costume and it was almost time for the Christmas Eve program to begin, he still hadn't come. I was afraid he wouldn't get to see me being a tree or hear me say my Aunt Vic piece.
"When's Papa gonna get here, Mama?"