Ned climbed on the donkey—in front of Stray—and let the animal amble back down the hill, following in the ruts made by Doctor Elton's buggy. Ned's feet almost dragged on the ground, but Little Stray's crooked legs didn't dangle down much farther than the donkey's tail. Soon the doctor's black mares and buggy were out of sight, but not Ned and Stray and their donkey. We could see them for a long time. On Monday afternoon, Mama and I went to the church to Missionary Society. While Mama was hitching Dale to our oak tree, I ran on inside. The church was damp and dark, the benches all empty. "Mama, ain't nobody in here!" "We're early, hon. Missionary Society is not supposed to start till three o'clock. Let's kindle a fire while we wait for all the ladies." "Is Aunt Vic gonna bring Ginger?" "I imagine so. She takes that little feist dog with her everywhere she goes." "Does Ginger like church?" "He should by this time." Mama put her satchel and her Bible and the other book down on the front bench and took off her gloves. I walked on over to the heater. "I'm shivering, Mama." "You'll get warm in a little while. Aw, I bet there's not a piece of kindling in this wood box!" There wasn't, but Mama found some old wadded-up newspapers and a few splinters down in one corner. She piled them into the heater and then started stripping crusty hunks of pine bark from the logs in the box. "Mama, look! A black grasshopper!" "Where?" "There he goes! He just jumped off that bark. Here he is! On the floor! See?" I grabbed at him, but he jumped again. "Bandershanks, that's not a grasshopper. That's just a cricket!" "Can I have him?" "Sure, if you can catch him." I got down on hands and knees and started crawling toward the cricket; but just as I reached out to get him, he leaped toward the side of the pump organ. I eased up a little closer and grabbed again! That just made him jump again, and this time he landed right at the pedals of the organ. "Mama, come get him!" My yelling out must have scared the cricket. Before Mama could even answer, he disappeared under the organ. I stretched out flat on my stomach and tried to see where he was hiding. I even felt along the carpet as far as I could reach up under the foot pedals. I couldn't feel a thing but sand and grit. I lay real still, thinking maybe the cricket would come back out. But I finally decided he was just sitting real still, thinking maybe I would go away. "I brought both letters with me, Nannie." I wheeled over and jumped up! I hadn't heard Aunt Vic and Aunt Lovie come in. But there they sat by the heater with Mama. It was Aunt Vic who was talking about letters. Ginger had come with her, all right. He was already curled up on the end of the front bench. "Vic, what did Cuddin Lucy write?" Mama asked. "Not too much—just about Uncle Lige dying. I'll read y'all her letter and Pa's too, if you think we've got time."