ed, roaring with laughter, as I stooped down and picked
up the wallet, out of which fortunately nothing had fallen.

"'Tick um pin in poor lil nigger."

"I didn't," I said; "and see what you've done."

"Yes, Mass' George did. Pomp felt um. You wait bit, I serb you out."

"But I tell you I did not, Pomp," I cried, as I wiped my eyes. "Oh, you
ridiculous-looking little chap! Come and sit down."

"No, won't. You 'tick um pin in poor lil nigger behind leg 'gain."

"I will not, 'pon my honour," I cried. "Oh, you did look comic."

"Made um feel comic dicklus," cried Pomp, catching up the two words I
had used. "Did hurt."

"Come and sit down."

"You no 'tick um pin in 'gain?"

"I haven't got a pin," I said.

"Den I know; it was um big forn."

"It wasn't, Pomp. Come and sit down and have some lunch."

"No. Won't come. Don't want no lunchum. Hurt poor Pomp dreffle. You
alway play um trick."

"I tell you I didn't do anything, Pomp. There, come along."

He caught sight of the food I brought now from the wallet, and it was
irresistible.

"You no 'tick pin in nigger 'gain?"

"No."

"Nor yet um forn?"

"No. Come along, you little unbeliever. Come along."

"I serb you out fo dat, Mass' George, you see," he said, sidling back to
the tree, watching me cautiously the while.

"Oh, very well, I'll forgive you," I said, as he retook his place. "I
say, Pomp, I am thirsty."

"So 'm I, Mass' George. Dat lunchum?"

"Yes; that's lunch," I said, as I laid the neatly-done-up napkin
containing provision of some kind on the tree-trunk between us, and
taking out the tin can I leaned right back, gripping the tree with both
legs, and lowering my hand I dipped the vessel full of water.

I was just in the act of rising cautiously and very slowly, when a sharp
pain in the fleshy part of my leg made me spring forward in agony,
dashing the water in Pomp's face, knocking the wallet and its contents
over sidewise, and in my pain and rage I seized the boy to begin cuffing
him, while he wrestled with me to get away, as we hugged and struggled
like two fighting men in a _melee_ on the same horse.

"How dare you!" I panted; "that was the point of your knife. I'll
teach you to--Oh, murder!"

"Oh, Mass' George, don't! _Oh_! Oh! Oh!"

We both made a bound together, went off the trunk sidewise, and Pomp
struggled up, tore off his shirt and drawers, and began to beat and
shake them, and then peep inside, pausing