“Yes, just so long as you are watching him. Then he’s off to play some prank or another. That boy always seems to me as if he must be doing something he ought not to do.”
“Oh, he’s a very good boy.”
“Never make such a man as his father, my lad. Humph! Here he is.”
I turned, and there, sure enough, was Pomp making a large display of his white teeth, and holding something behind so that we should not see.
“What have you got?” I said.
He drew a basket forward and displayed four good-sized terrapins, and offered them to Morgan for a present.
“No, no,” grumbled the man, “I don’t want them, and I’m sure that the missus would find fault if I took them in. She hates them; besides, I’m not going to be sugared over like that, to keep me from speaking out. Now, look here, you’ve been fishing.”
“Yes, sah. Kedge de terrupum.”
“And I told you to hoe down between those yams, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Mass’ Morgan, I going to hoe down de yam-yam.”