“Don’t bother, I tell you,” I cried viciously; and there was another pause, during which Pomp made a low whistling noise, which was not such a very bad imitation of the bobolink.
But Pomp could not be quiet long, and he broke out again with—
“Mass’ George.”
I turned fiercely round to see that his black face was full of animation, and eyes and lips bright with mischievous glee, all of which annoyed me the more, for what business had he to be happy when I was so disappointed, out of humour, and miserable?
“Be off! Why don’t you go to work, sir?”
“Won’t Mass’ George come in de wood?”
“No. Be off!”
“Pomp come and have a ’wim ’long o’ Mass’ George?”
“No, you won’t. Be off; I don’t want you.”
The boy looked at me aghast, and his thick lower lip worked.