“I didn’t, you stupid little nigger,” I cried, angrily. “Get up and mind your oar. You caught a crab. Pull!”
Pomp scrambled back in his place, and began to pull again as hard as he could, for my voice had rather startled him.
“What Mass’ George say?” he whispered.
“Pull!”
“Yes, I pull; but what Mass’ George say ’fore dat?”
“I said you caught a crab.”
“Didn’t! It was great big terrapum.”
“I mean you put your oar in too deep.”
“Den what for say catch um crab? Mass’ George say Injum in de bush shootin’ at Pomp, and den he look round an’ no Injum dah; Mass’ George play trick to fright um, and den call poor Pomp ’tupid lil nigger.”
“Will you hold your tongue and row?” I whispered fiercely.