On the present occasion he felt in a hectoring mood.
"I'll have some fun out of the little nigger," he said to himself, as he espied Pomp.
Pomp approached, swinging his pail as before, and whistling a plantation melody.
"What have you got there, Pomp ?" asked John.
"I'se got a pail," said Pomp independently.

"Don't yer know a pail when you see him ?" "I know an impudent little nigger when I see him," retorted John, not overpleased with the answer.

"Come here directly, and let me see what you've got in your pail." "I ain't got noffin for you," said Pomp defiantly.
"We'll see about that," said John.

"Now, do you mean to come here or not?
I'm going to count three, and I'll give you that time to decide.
One--two--three!" Pomp apparently had no intention of complying with John's request.
He had halted about three rods from him, and stood swinging his pail, meanwhile watching John warily.
"I see you want me to come after you," said John angrily.
He ran toward Pomp, but the little contraband dodged him adroitly, and got on the other side of a tree.
Opposition only stimulated John to new efforts.

He had become excited in the pursuit, and had made up his mind to capture Pomp, who dodged in and out among the trees with such quickness and dexterity that John was foiled for a considerable time.