She needn't have worried. Wrapped tight, hunched forward, as she started home her mind was busywith the things she could forget.

　　Thank God I don't have to rememory or say a thing because you know it. All. You know I neverwould a left you. Never. It was all I could think of to do. When the train came I had to be ready.

　　Schoolteacher was teaching us things we couldn't learn. I didn't care nothing about the measuringstring. We all laughed about that — except Sixo. He didn't laugh at nothing. But I didn't care.

　　Schoolteacher'd wrap that string all over my head, 'cross my nose, around my behind. Number myteeth. I thought he was a fool. And the questions he asked was the biggest foolishness of all.

　　Then me and your brothers come up from the second patch. The first one was close to the housewhere the quick things grew: beans,onions, sweet peas. The other one was further down for long-lasting things, potatoes, pumpkin, okra, pork salad. Not much was up yet down there. It was earlystill. Some young salad maybe, but that was all. We pulled weeds and hoed a little to giveeverything a good start. After that we hit out for the house. The ground raised up from the secondpatch. Not a hill exactly but kind of. Enough for Buglar and Howard to run up and roll down, runup and roll down. That's the way I used to see them in my dreams, laughing, their short fat legsrunning up the hill. Now all I see is their backs walking down the railroad tracks. Away from me.

　　Always away from me. But that day they was happy, running up and rolling down. It was earlystill — the growing season had took hold but not much was up. I remember the peas still hadflowers. The grass was long though, full of white buds and those tall red blossoms people callDiane and something there with the leastest little bit of blue — -light, like a cornflower but pale,pale. Real pale. I maybe should have hurried because I left you back at the house in a basket in the yard. Away from where the chickens scratched but you never know. Anyway I took my timegetting back but your brothers didn't have patience with me staring at flowers and sky every two orthree steps. They ran on ahead and I let em. Something sweet lives in the air that time of year, andif the breeze is right, it's hard to stay indoors. When I got back I could hear Howard and Buglarlaughing down by the quarters. I put my hoe down and cut across the side yard to get to you. Theshade moved so by the time I got back the sun was shining right on you. Right in your face, butyou wasn't woke at all. Still asleep. I wanted to pick you up in my arms and I wanted to look at yousleeping too. Didn't know which; you had the sweetest face. Yonder, not far, was a grape arbor Mr.

　　Garner made. Always full of big plans, he wanted to make his own wine to get drunk off. Neverdid get more than a kettle of jelly from it. I don't think the soil was right for grapes. Your daddybelieved it was the rain, not the soil. Sixo said it was bugs. The grapes so little and tight. Sour asvinegar too. But there was a little table in there. So I picked up your basket and carried you over tothe grape arbor. Cool in there and shady. I set you down on the little table and figured if I got apiece of muslin the bugs and things wouldn't get to you. And if Mrs. Garner didn't need me rightthere in the kitchen, I could get a chair and you and me could set out there while I did thevegetables. I headed for the back door to get the clean muslin we kept in the kitchen press. Thegrass felt good on my feet. I got near the door and I heard voices.............