“Eh?” he exclaimed. “Dat not skeeter fly. Dat you, fader? You let lil nigger go sleep. Keep a ’tick ’till.”
“Eh? Who dat? Ah, yah! It you, Mass’ George. I know all de time.”
“No, you didn’t, old sleepy head.”
“Eh? Well, what head for at night but sleep um? You want Pomp go after ’coon?”
“No; look here, Pomp; we’re to go and try to find the boat in the morning. Come and call me as soon as it’s day.”
“Eh? Why not go now, Mass’ George?”
“No, no; I want to go and have a good sleep first. Mind, as soon as it’s light; I’ll take the gun.”
“I call you, Mass’ George, widout come an’ ticklum wif lil ’tick, ha—ha—ha! I know.”
“Good-night.”
“Good-night, Mass’ George; I come and climb up your window; and you look out.”