ally into the kitchen, elbowed Letty-Lou
out of her way, and proceeded to stir up a batch of brown molasses
cookies. "'Cause dey is fillin' fo' boys. An' Mistuh Val, heah, he needs
some moah fat 'crost dose skinny ribs. Letty-Lou, yo'all ain't feedin'
dese men-folks ri'. Now yo' chillens," she swooped down upon her own
family, "yo'all gits outa heah an' don't fuss me."

"They can come with me," offered Ricky. "I'm trying to find that maze
which is marked on the garden plans."

"Miss 'Chanda, yo'all ain't a'goin' 'way 'afo' yoah brothah gits through
his wo'k. He done tol' me to keep an eye on yo'all. Why don't yo'all go
visit wi' Miss Charity?"

Ricky looked at her watch. "All right. She'll be through her morning
work by now. I'll take the children, Lucy."

To Val's open surprise, she obeyed Lucy, meekly moving off without a
single protest. One of the boys remained behind and offered shyly to
take the horse back to Sam's place. When Lucy agreed that it would be
all right, Val boosted him into the saddle where he clung like a jockey.

"An' wheah is yo'all goin', Mistuh Val?" asked Lucy, cutting out round
cookies with a downward stroke of the drinking glass she had pressed
into service. The regular cutter was, in her opinion, too small.

"Down toward the bayou. I'll be back before lunch," he said, and hurried
out before she could as definitely dispose of him as she had of Ricky.

Val struck off into the bushes until he came to one of the paths that
crossed the wilderness. As it ran in the direction of the bayou, he
turned into it. Then for the second time he came into the glen of the
pool and passed along the path Jeems had known. So somehow Val was not
surprised, when he came out upon the edge of the bayou levee, to see
Jeems sitting there.

"Hello!"

The swamper looked up at Val's hail but this time he did not leave.

"Hullo," he answered sullenly.

Val stood there, ill at ease, while the swamper eyed him composedly.
What could he say now? Val's embarrassment must have been very apparent,
for after a long moment Jeems smiled derisively.

"Yo' goin' ridin' in them funny pants?" he asked, pointing to the
other's breeches.

"Well, that's what they are intended for," Val replied.

"Wheah's youah hoss?"

"I sent him back to Sam's." Val was beginning to feel slightly warm. He
decided that Jeems' manners were not all that they might be.

"Sam!" the swamp boy spat into the water. "He's a--"

But what Sam was