Chapter 6
Woohoo!
It was apparent that Uncle Arty really liked wiling away the time with Spratt. We learned that Spratt had been a widower for almost twenty years and never had any children. “Horses are my children, and horseshit is my enemy,” he liked to say. Arty got a charge out of that.
Spratt was born in Utah and never wanted to live anywhere else because he feared any other place would be a letdown. He was a good listener who was especially fond of hearing tales about when Uncle Arty was a mailman—and Arty sure could tell interesting stories.
Arty delivered mail on foot, which he said kept him in great shape for a well-fed fellow. “I was an Adonis back when I walked all over Endicott. Not so much these days. A body is either a’goin' or a’growin',” he chuckled while patting his be
