“Hey, boy. Come here, boy.” Dem words stir fire inna ma soul. I’s old enough to be his grandpappy, yet he calls me, “boy”
I should get a fresh rose bud from the bush. Ruby would like that. But Harry was beyond action.
I hated that old rooster, because he always chased me when I gathered eggs. But in this tale from my youth, that old rooster picked the wrong time and the wrong place for a winner-takes-all battle for “King of the Barnyard.”