of older brothers and
sisters, and they most all have married and live about here and have big
families. The grandchildren are running in and out of mammy's cabin all
the time. I have to chase 'em out with a broom sometimes when I go down
there. And they eat her pretty near up alive!"

Even the smaller Bunkers knew that this was a figure of speech. The
grandchildren did not actually eat Mammy June, although they might clean
her cupboard as bare as that of Old Mother Hubbard.

They followed a winding, grass-grown cart path for nearly half a mile
before coming to Mammy June's house. The way was sloping to the border
of a "branch" or small stream--a very pretty brook indeed that burbled
over stones in some places and then had long stretches of quiet pools
where Frane, Junior, told Russ and Laddie that there were many
fish--"big fellows."

"I'll get a string and a bent pin and fish for them," said Laddie
confidently. "I fished that way in the brook at Pineville."

"Huh!" said Frane Armatage, Junior, in scorn. "One of these fish here
would swallow your pin and line and haul you in."

"Oh!" gasped Vi, with big eyes. "What for?"

"No, the fish wouldn't!" declared Laddie promptly.

"Yes, it would. And swallow you, too."

"No, the fish wouldn't," repeated Laddie, "for I'd let go just as soon
as it began to tug."

"Smartie!" said Phillis to her brother. "You can't fool these Bunker
boys. Let Laddie alone."

Of course the troop of white children, walking down the cart path to
Mammy June's, was followed by a troop of colored children. The latter
sang and romped and chased about the bordering woods like puppies out
for a rample. Sometimes they danced.

"Can you cut a pigeon wing?" Russ asked one of the older lads. "I want
to learn to do that."

"No, I can't do that. Not good. We've got some dancers over at the
quarters that does it right well," was the reply.

"You ought to've seen Sneezer do it!" cried another of the colored
children. "Sneezer could do it fine. Couldn't he, Miss Phil?"

"Sneezer was a great dancer," admitted the oldest Armatage girl. "Come
on, now, Bunkers, and see Mammy June. Keep away from this cabin," she
added to the colored children, "or I'll call a ha'nt out of the swamp to
chase you."

"I wonder what those 'ha'nts' are, Russ," whispered Rose to her brother.
"Do they have feathers? Or don't they fly? They must run pretty fast,
for Phil is always saying she will make one chase folks."

"I