"No, I won't."
"Well, there 'tis."
"Come here, Pomp, and help me," said Sam.
Pomp held aloof.
"She'll whip me," he said, shaking his head. "She's an old
debble."
"Oh, you--you sarpint!" ejaculated the old lady, almost
speechless with indignation.
"You can run away as soon as she gets out," suggested Sam.
Pomp advanced slowly and warily, rolling his eyes in indecision.
"Jest catch hold of my hands, both on ye," said Mrs. Payson, "an'
I'll give a jump."
These directions were followed, and the old lady rose to the
surface, when, in an evil hour, intent upon avenging herself upon
Pomp, she made a clutch for his collar. In doing so she lost her
footing and fell back into the pilt from which she had just
emerged. Her spectacles dropped off and, falling beneath her,
were broken.
She rose, half-provoked and half-ashamed of her futile attempt.
It was natural that neither of these circumstances should effect
an improvement in her temper.
"You did it a purpose," she said, shaking her fist at Pomp, who
stood about a rod off, grinning at her discomfiture.
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