"Well, all right."
"Hot diggity!" Wiley gave a whoop and lit out toward the barn.
"That's it, son! Light a shuck!" Grandpa called after him.
"Bandershanks, open the well-lot gate," Wiley hollered back, "and I'll dance at your wedding!"
Grandpa said, "Come on, sugar, I'll give you a hand with that dilapidated old gate; you couldn't budge it. Reckon I'm gonna have to come out here and brace that thing with some two-by-fours. Jodie don't never get time for fixing things."
With Mama's help, we got the sagging gate dragged open just in time for Old Dale to come jogging through, with Wiley astraddle of his back. Wiley hadn't even put on Dale's bridle, his blanket, a saddle, or anything! He was just holding on to Dale's mane with both hands and kicking his ribs with both feet.
"Why, son, I could've helped you get the saddle!"
"Don't need no saddle, Grandpa! Get up! Get up!"
Mama said Old Dale didn't appear the least bit interested in going to see any automobile. But, he did strike up a trot when Wiley got him to the foot of the hill and on the main road. Trixie barked and wanted to follow them, but we called her back.
"I'll tell you, Nannie," Grandpa said as he fastened the sagging gate back in place, "I got so carried away with looking at the automobile I wasn't paying no mind to who was on it. You happen to notice who 'twas?"