He fell heavily upon his back.
"This is all foolish, John," said Frank, bending over his fallen foe.
"What are you fighting for?
The privilege of savagely whipping a poor little fellow less than half your age ?" "I care more about whipping you, a cursed sight!" said John, taking advantage of Frank's withdrawing his pressure to spring to his feet.
"You first, and him afterward!" Again he threw himself upon Frank; but again coolness and practice prevailed against blind fury and untaught strength, and again he lay prostrate.
By this time Pomp had freed himself from the string that fettered his wrists, and danced in glee round John Haynes, in whose discomfiture he felt great delight.
"You'd better pick up your pail and run home," said Frank.

He was generously desirous of saving John from further humiliation.

"Will you go away quietly if I will let you up, John ?" he asked.
"No, d---- you!" returned John, writhing, his face almost livid with passion.
"I am sorry," said Frank, "for in that case I must continue to hold you down." "What is the trouble, boys ?" came from an unexpected quarter.
It was Mr.Maynard, who, chancing to pass along the road, had been attracted by the noise of the struggle.
Frank explained in a few words.
"Let him up, Frank," said the old man.

"I'll see that he does no further harm." John rose to his feet, and looked scowlingly from one to the other, as if undecided whether he had not better attack both.
"You've disgraced yourself, John Haynes," said the old farmer scornfully.

"So you would turn negro-whipper, would you?
Your talents are misapplied here at the North.