“Mass’ George won’t call Pomp ’tupid lil nigger ’gain?”
“I’ll promise anything, only pray look.”
The boy rested his chin on the fence, and gazed again, while I could hear my heart going thump, thump with excitement.
“Lot men. All black dark.”
“Black?” I said, eagerly. “You don’t mean the slaves?”
“Pomp nebber say dey nigger. Pomp say all black.”
“Don’t talk so loudly,” whispered Morgan, eagerly.
“Pomp no want talk loud. Pomp go back ’leep.”
“No, no, pray look again and tell me, Pomp,” I whispered.
“Mass’ Morgan talk sabbage. Want to flog Pomp.”