"For the lub of Heaven, lef me be.

I ain't done noffin' to you." "You'd better have thought of that before," said John, his eyes blazing anew with vengeful light.

"If I whip you, you little black rascal, it's only because you richly deserve it." "I'll nebber do so again," pleaded Pomp, rolling his eyes in terror.
Though what it was he promised not to do the poor little fellow would have found it hard to tell.
It would have been as easy to soften the heart of a nether millstone as that of John Haynes.
By the time he had completed his preparations, and whirled his stick in the air preparatory to bringing it down with full force on Pomp's back, rapid steps were heard, and a voice asked, "What are you doing there, John Haynes ?" John looked round, and saw standing near him Frank Frost, whose attention had been excited by what he had heard of Pomp's cries.
"Save me, save me, Mass' Frank," pleaded poor little Pomp.
"What has he tied you up there for, Pomp ?" "It's none of your business, Frank Frost," said John passionately.
"I think it's some of my business," said Frank coolly, "when I find you playing the part of a Southern overseer.

You are not in Richmond, John Haynes, and you'll get into trouble if you undertake to act as if you were." "If you say much more, I'll flog you too!" screamed John, beside himself with excitement and rage.
Frank had not a particle of cowardice in his composition.

He was not fond of fighting, but he felt that circumstances made it necessary for him to do so now.