Grandma Dowdel Quotes

“It’s the Centennial Celebration,” Grandma said. “We’re all going back to the old days and the old ways for a week.”
“Grandma,” I said, “you never gave up any of the old ways.”

“Got a new pet?” I inquired.
“Chicago people have pets,” she said. “But there’s a new litter living down in the cobhouse now, and I let ‘em. They keep down the vermin. Don’t need all of them though.”

“You had to study hard to see any expression at all, but it was a look I was coming to know. She appeared pretty satisfied at the way things had turned out. And she’d returned law and order to the town she claimed she didn’t give two hoots about.”

“Why, there’s my grandkids now.” She pointed us out with a spatula. “They’re from Chicago. Gangs run that town, you know,” she told the kid. “My grandson’s in a gang, so you don’t want to mess with him. He’s meaner than he looks.”

“Lift that wire so I can skin under,” Grandma said.
The lowest wire was pretty close to the ground. But Grandma was already flat on her back in the weeds. She’d pushed the cheese through. Now she began to work her shoulders to inch herself under.”

“What do you want to learn to drive for anyway?” she said. “Don’t you go around Chicago in taxicabs and trolleys?”
I couldn’t explain it to Grandma. I was getting too old to be a boy, and driving meant you were a man. Something like that. ”

“Grandma’s house was the last one in town. Next to the row of glads was a woven-wire fence, and on the other side of that a cornfield. On the first nights I’d always lie up in bed, listening to the husky whisper of the dry August corn in the fields. Then on the second night I wouldn’t hear anything.”

“Do that,” Grandma said. “And one more thing. You give Effie Wilcox back her house, free and clear. It wasn’t worth nothing anyway—apart from its historical value.”
“Mrs. Dowdel, that’s not business,” the banker said. “That’s blackmail.”
“What’s the difference?” Grandma said.

“Then I knew we were getting to Grandma’s town. It was sound asleep in the hour before dawn. We slowed past the depot, and now we were coming to Grandma’s, the last house in town. It was lit up like a jack-o’-lantern.”

“There’s no private matters in this town, Merle,” Grandma said. “Everybody’s private business is public property.”
“Yes, and you’ve stuck your nose in ours!” Mrs. Stubbs said, speaking up sharp. “You got that Eubanks gal upstairs this minute.”