It happened. The Chinese took a header over the darky, and when each flopped to his hands and knees, they were looking into each other's eyes with growing animosity.
"By golly!" flared the negro, "is dem glass eyes en yo' haid? Ef dey ain't, why doan' yu use dem?"
"Why blackee boy makee sit in China boy's load?" gurgled the other.
"Yo' own dishyer lake?" taunted the little moke; "yo' gotter mo'galidge on dishyer bank? Go on wif yo' highfalutin' talk! Ah'll sot wherebber Ah wants, en ef yo' comes erlong en goes tuh shovin', by golly, yo'll fin' Ah kin do some shovin' mahse'f."
"My gottee light comee down bank," asserted the Chinese boy, picking himself up. "My makee go allee same boathouse; you makee stay in load, you gettee shove. My plenty same choo-choo tlain, you makee sleep on tlack. Savvy? You makee some mo' shove, my makee some mo' shove, too."
The Chinese boy stood his ground. The black-skinned youngster sat up and pulled his string of fish closer.
"Ah nebber did lak Chinks," he grunted.
"My no likee blackee boy, all same," averred the Celestial.
"Ah reckons Ah kin lick yu' wif one han' tied behin' mah back. Go 'long, yaller trash! Ah's er hurriclone en a cynader, all rolled intuh one, when Ah gits sta'ted. Look out fo' a big blow en a Chink wreck, dat's all."
"Woosh! Blackee boy makee plenty blow. Me allee same cannon. My makee go bang, you makee go top-side. No likee your piecee pidgin."