“No; let ’em alone,” growled Uncle Jack, whose face was puckered up into a broad laugh.
“Do you hear me, sir?”
“No tick a knifum in?”
“No; of course not. No—No.”
“All right,” said the black; and he stretched out his hand again, and with his eyes fixed upon Aunt Georgie, he slowly approached till he nearly touched the bread.
“That’s right; take it,” said the old lady, giving it a sharp push forward at the same moment, and the black leaped back once more with a look of disgust upon his face which gave way to another grin.
“What shame!” he cried in a tone of remonstrance. “’Tick knife in, make um bleed. Damper no good no more.”
“Well, of all the horrible creatures!” cried Aunt Georgie, who stood there full in the firelight in happy unconsciousness of the fact that the scene was double, for the shadows of the two performers were thrown grotesquely but distinctly upon the wall of verdure by their side.
Just then a happy thought struck the black, who advanced again nearly within reach of the bread, planted his spear behind him as a support, holding it with both hands, and then, grinning mightily at his own cunning in keeping his body leaning back out of reach, he lifted one leg, and with his long elastic foot working, stretched it out and tried to take the piece of bread with his toes.
A perfect shriek of laughter arose from the boys at this, and the black turned sharply to give them a self-satisfied nod, as if to say, “She can’t get at me now,” while the mirth increased as Aunt Georgie snatched the bread back.