Mama wiped them away with her apron. In the midst of all the excitement, my little sister, saying not a word, climbed down from her chair.
No one said anything. We just watched her. Still clutching a spoon in her small hand, she came around the table and walked up to me.
Looking down at the floor, in a bashful voice, she asked, “Can I have the gold cup?”
Putting my finger under her sticky little chin, I tilted her head up.
I smiled as I looked into her clear blue eyes. I said, “Honey, if I win it, I’ll give it to no one but you.”
I had to cross my heart and hope to die several times before she was satisfied.
Back in her chair she gloated over the others. “You just wait and see,” she said.
“It’ll be all mine, nobody’s but mine, and I’ll put my banty eggs in it.”
“Silly, you don’t put banty eggs in a gold cup,” the oldest one said. “They’re just made to look at.”
That night I dreamed about gold cups, little red hounds, and coons as big as rain barrels.
Once I woke myself up whooping to my dogs. The next few days were busy ones for me.
Knowing that Papa and I would be gone for several days, I did everything I could to make things convenient for Mama.
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