"Never mind, Nannie," he was telling Mama. "It's not every day a boy gets to see a automobile. Wonder what make it is."
I skipped on ahead so I could sit down beside the edge of the road with Wiley and Trixie. Wiley was leaning back against a good-sized pine sapling, dangling his feet in the gully, and trying to hold Trixie around the neck. She twisted and turned and swished her tail. After a bit, though, she settled down between us and stopped panting long enough to reach over and lick Wiley square in the face.
"Quit it, Trixie! And get quiet, I'm listening for a automobile. Bandershanks, you hear anything?"
"No, I don't hear nothing. What's it gonna sound like?"
"Like a motor, you silly goose! Hot diggity! I hear it!" With that, Wiley jumped across the ditch and tore off down the middle of the road, running as fast as he could sling his fat legs and bare feet. Trixie was having a hard time keeping up with him.
"Wiley! Get outta that road, son!" Mama screamed. "You'll get run over!" Mama started running after them, but Grandpa called her back.
"Nannie, don't fret! They'll get outta the way soon as they see it coming!"
Wiley and Trixie, rounding the bend, disappeared behind the plum thicket.
"Boys and dogs has both got plenty of gumption," Grandpa told Mama, "more'n folks give 'em credit for."
Just then, we saw it!