I know what I saw Daddy do and later I figured out why he did it.

It began with a ten-day revival, brush arbor style, in Old Salem one hot July summer when I was nine years old. There were three preachers and we had already fed them once so Daddy wasn't too keen on their being back for Sunday dinner. Evidently he thought, “Enough is enough!”

The table was loaded with fried chicken, gravy, biscuits, corn on the cob, fresh tomatoes, peas, okra, and blackberry cobbler. Now, at that time, if you were a child, you never ate at the first table when there was company. Daddy did not agree, but that was Mama's rule. One of the preachers was extra long-winded and he happened to be the one blessing the table. He prayed for everybody, from out family to the left-handed Eskimos in Alaska. When he uttered “Amen.”, three pairs of hands reached for the platter of fried chicken.

Our home had one log room and the kitchen was a lean-to which had no screen door. We children hovered nearby, wondering if by chance anything would be left except a chicken neck when they finished. Mama told us to run and play. She would call us when it was time to eat. Humph! Not on your life were we going to leave! Our presence, we felt, might remind them to not linger too long at the table.

Well, they were on their third chicken leg when Daddy came through---and how!

He had two big old hound dogs. Old Nick was a Walker and Old Sally was a Bluetick. Daddy was seated next to the open kitchen door and the hounds began hovering near the door. They slithered like snakes closer and close. All at once, my eye caught Daddy's hand drop under the table and in it was a chicken bone.

The next instand, all hell broke loose. The two hounds were almost the size of yearling calves and they were both determined to have that coveted chicken bone. They charged under the table, raising all four legs off of the floor. The preachers were left desperately trying to hold it down and not let the food slide to the floor.

I caught Daddy's eye just for a split second and saw how they twinkled. He knew his work was cut out for him, to separate Nick and Sally. Believe me, that was no easy job!

Mama was in tears. The preachers decided they were full and needed to visit some other folks that afternoon. I think they suspected Daddy was fixing to be called to the battlefront. A hurried departure was made and and we children grabbed a plate. And for once I didn't have to eat a chicken neck!

Daddy stayed in the doghouse for quite a spell, but I am certain he didn't feel any remorse, though he tried to convince Mama of his innocence.

For my part, I never told Mama what I had witnessed that Sunday afternoon.