“Well, how did you happen to call him Grief?” insisted Joe.

“Yes, honey, yes.  ‘Twar a long time ago, chile, when Mas’ Will—­dat’s yer pa (she nodded towards Joe) war a little fellow, heap littler’n you, heap littler, an’ Mas’ Charley—­dat’s yer pappy (to the other two) war a baby.  I war nussen him long o’ Grief an’ Grief warn’t name yet.  Miss May—­dat’s yer all’s Gramma whar died las’ year—­she use to come out to de back steps an’ watch dem two babies nussen’, Grief an’ Mas’ Charley bof at de same time in my lap; an’ Mas’ Will an’ Jerry—­dat’s my little boy what war jes’ ’bout his age—­a-playing in de back-yard, an’ sometime she laugh an’ cry all at de same time an’ she say:  ‘We is all one fam’ly, Delphy!’ she say.  Law’s, chillun, dem was times! You don’t know nuthin’ ’bout dem times.  Disher house was full up all de time wid comp’ny; gran’ comp’ny, what dress all de time in silk an’ go walkin’ ‘bout under de trees an’ ridin’ ’bout over de prairie in de day time; and mos’ every night dey call my ole man in to play de fiddle an’ den, laws, how dem young folks dance!  An’ ole Mas’ an’ ole Mis’ an’ all de young ladies an gentlemen use to come down to de cabins—­dey was all burnt up, time o’ de war—­an’ sakes, honey! de hosses an’ de cayages an’ de niggers an’ disher big plantation, all shinin’ wid corn an’ cotton!  Dem was times!” And Mammy’s old eyes lighted up as she went back to her youth and the glory of her family, for she still speaks with pride of her “fam’ly.”

“But Grief, Mammy?” said Jim.

“Yes, honey, yes.  Yer pappy and Grief war babies, an’ Grief warn’t named, an’ Mas’ Will an’ Jerry was little boys, littler’n you.  ’N one day Miss May, she come to the back do’ an’ call me.  I was sittin’ in disher very place dat day, nussin dem two babies, an’ my mammy (she de cook), gittin’ dinner in de kitchen.  ‘Delphy,’ Miss May say, ’Delphy, does you know whar Will an’ Jerry is?  Dey ain’t been seen sence breakfast dis mornin’.

[Illustration:  “YER PAPPY AN’ GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN’ GRIEF WARN’T NAMED.”]

“I felt curus-like dat minit, an’ I jump up an’ run all over de place lookin’ for dem boys.  ‘Rectly all de house gals an’ everybody—­Mas’ and Mis’ an’ everybody—­commence to hunt for dem chillun.  We look everywhere—­in de hay-top, in de cotton gin-house, out on de prairie—­everywhere.  Den I saw Miss May—­dat’s yer granma, turn white-like, an’ she say, ’Oh Delphy, oh James’—­dat’s yer grandpa—­’de ole well in de field! de ole well in de field!’

“Over in de bayou-field—­it done full up now, ole Mas’ had a well dug to water de hosses out in.  It war kivered up wid some bodes.

“I don’t ’zactly ’member ‘bout goin’ over to de field, but when I got dar wid dem two babies in my arms an’ stood ‘long side o’ Miss May—­”

Mammy Delphy spoke more and more slowly.  She had stopped picking the chicken, and great tears were rolling down her cheeks.  The boys stood stricken and silent.