"Whoops!"
"Watch out, Wiley!" Mierd screeched. "Look what you've done! You've knocked over the syrup pitcher with one clumsy hand and Irene's buttermilk with the other!"
"Irene, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. Gee, it's running down all over your dress."
"That's all right."
Mama rubbed the spot on Irene's skirt with a damp cloth till it looked fine.
"What I'm waiting to hear is what make automobile that was," Grandpa said, turning to Papa. "It wasn't one of the Ford tin lizzies, was it, Jodie?"
"No, sir. It was a Chevrolet. It—"
"It was a 'Four Ninety'! That's what it was" Wiley hollered out. "It cost four hundred and ninety dollars!"
"Hold on now a minute, son. Don't interrupt when anybody's talking. 'Specially if it's somebody a good bit older than you are. We'll let you have your say in a few minutes."
"Yes, sir."