Now, John was something of a bully, and liked to exercise
authority over the boys who were small enough to render the
attempt a safe one. On the present occasion he felt in a
hectoring mood.
"I'll have some fun out of the little nigger," he said to
himself, as he espied Pomp.
Pomp approached, swinging his pail as before, and whistling a
plantation melody.
"What have you got there, Pomp?" asked John.
"I'se got a pail," said Pomp independently. "Don't yer know a
pail when you see him?"
"I know an impudent little nigger when I see him," retorted John,
not overpleased with the answer. "Come here directly, and let me
see what you've got in your pail."
"I ain't got noffin for you," said Pomp defiantly.
"We'll see about that," said John. "Now, do you mean to come here
or not? I'm going to count three, and I'll give you that time to
decide. One--two--three!"
Pomp apparently had no intention of complying with John's
request. He had halted about three rods from him, and stood
swinging his pail, meanwhile watching John warily.
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