“Oh, yes, Pomp find um; come and see.”
“Yes, I’ll come,” I said. “But, I say, Pomp, there are two chickens gone. Do you know anything about them?”
“Yes. Such big bird come and take um, Mass’ George. Big bird fly ober de tree, whish—whoosh! And ’tick um foot into de chickum.”
Sarah shook her head in a peculiar severe way; but I guessed that she had the question of the uniform upon her mind, and she held her tongue, while Pomp dragged me off to see his discovery.
He led me into a part of the forest where I had not been since the flood, and there, sure enough, twenty feet above the ground, and preserving its perpendicular position, was the greater part of the hut, Pomp climbing up to it in triumph, and then on to the top, with the result that his weight was just sufficient to dislodge it, and the whole affair came down with a crash, and with the boy seated in the ruins.
“What do dat for?” he cried in a whimpering tone as he sat rubbing himself.
“Do what?” I cried, laughing.
“Pull um down down an’ break up. How we get um back now?”
“I didn’t touch it.”
“Not touch um! How um tumble down den? Oh my leg—my leg!”