See ef I don't."
"You can't get out, missus; yah, yah!" laughed Pomp. "You's tied,
you is, missus."
"Come an' help me out, this minute!" exclaimed the old lady,
stamping her foot.
"Lor', missus, you'll whip me. You said you would."
"So I will, I vum," retorted the irate old lady, rather
undiplomatically. "As true as I live, I'll whip you till you
can't stan'."
As she spoke, she brandished her umbrella in a menacing manner.
"Den, missus, I guess you'd better stay where you is."
"Oh, you imp. See ef I don't have you put in jail. Here, you, Sam
Thompson, come and help me out. Ef you don't, I'll tell your
mother, an' she'll give you the wust lickin' you ever had. I'm
surprised at you."
"You won't tell on me, will you?" said Sam, irresolutely.
"I'll see about it," said the old lady, in a politic tone.
She felt her powerlessness, and that concession must precede
victory.
"Then, give me the umbrella," said Sam, who evidently distrusted
her.
"You'll run off with it," said Mrs. Payson suspiciously.
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