Mass' George Part 98

"Yes, sir," he said, as a man lifted a keg; "and if I had my way in the world, it should never be brought out again."

"And suppose the Indians came?"

"Didn't I say if I could have my own way in the world, sir? If I did the Indians wouldn't come, nor the Spaniards neither--you said it was Spaniards didn't you? I always thought it was Spaniels."

"Yes; Spaniards. And suppose they come?"

"Bah! Who cares for them? Why, I'd send them flying with a regiment of men armed with spades, and strict orders given only to use the flat side."

I burst out laughing, for somehow everything seemed bright and happy once more, and in the midst of my mirth a quick, eager voice exclaimed--

"What Ma.s.s' George laugh upon? Tell Pomp. Pomp want laugh too."

I told him, and as he could not appreciate the comicality of Morgan's remark, he looked sulky and full of doubt for a few moments, but showed his white teeth directly after.

It did not seem long after that the four largest boats of the settlement were loaded deep down with timbers and planks, to supplement those which lay just under the trees by the rattlesnake clearing, and now well seasoned and dry. Many of them had been carried here and there during the flood, but being ready cut down when the clearing was made, they were hunted up at the first thought of the return to build up our house, and dragged out of spots where they had been overgrown with the rapidly-sprung-up verdure.

Expeditions had been sent out several times toward the Indians' country, but as no signs of the savages were seen, our confidence rapidly increased, and some of my happiest hours were pa.s.sed with Pomp, hunting out these logs and planks, and marking the spots with a blaze from an axe on the nearest tree.

Then a strong party came over from the settlement on the day the boats were despatched, travelled across rapidly, knocked up a shed of the planks and newly-sawn-up boards unloaded at our landing-place from the boats, and I honestly believe the two happiest people there that day among the strange party of blacks, who carried the wood along the forest path, were Pomp and Hannibal, who, though far from strong, insisted upon his being well enough to help.

So many willing bands were there who came over in a couple of boats morning by morning, that with the help of the blacks camped in the rough shed, a fortnight had not pa.s.sed before the nucleus of our home was up, sufficient for shelter, the finis.h.i.+ng and improvements being left to come by degrees.

I believe that the sight of our home slowly rising from the ruins did more to give my father back his strength than anything done by the doctor, but perhaps that is ungrateful. But be that as it may, it was a pleasure to see him.

"Only look at the captain," Morgan said to me one morning, two days after our friends had gone back. "Don't he look lovely again, sir?"

"Well, I don't know about lovely. I thought that about Sarah."

"Now, don't you make fun," said Morgan, giving a heap of wood ashes a tap with his spade, to make it lie close in his rough barrow, whose wheel was a section sawn off the end of a very round-trunked pine, and tired by nailing on the iron hooping from a cask.

"Don't you send that ash flying and smothering me," I cried, as Pomp, who was helping load and wheel the heap to the garden, began to sneeze violently.

"Then you shouldn't make fun of a woman, sir, because she's plain."

"I didn't," I said, stoutly. "I meant lovely and well. And if you say your wife's plain again, I'll go and tell her so. She's the dearest old motherly body that ever lived."

Morgan drove his spade down into the earth, took my hand, and shook it solemnly, Pomp, who had ceased sneezing, looking on wonderingly the while.

"Thankye, Master George, thankye, sir; so she is--so she is."

Pomp came forward and held out his hand.

"Well, what now?" growled Morgan.

"Tought Ma.s.s' Morgan want shake hand," said the boy.

"Get out with you, sir. Wheel that barrow right on to the bed next to the last load."

Pomp seized the handles, went off with the barrow, caught the edge against the stump of a tree, one of the many not yet grubbed up, upset the ashes, and bounded off into the forest, to stand watching us from behind a tree, as if in dread of punishment; but seeing me roaring with laughter, he came cautiously back, grinning as if it was after all an excellent joke.

"There, shovel it up again, boy," said Morgan, good-temperedly; "it was an accident."

"Iss, Ma.s.s' Morgan, all um axden," cried the boy, working away.

"One can't be very cross with him, Master George; he's such a happy young dog, and somehow, after all the trouble, I feel too happy, and so does Sarah; and to see her smile, sir, at getting a bit of a shelf put up in her new kitchen, and to hear her talk about the things the captain sent for from England--Lor', sir, it would do you good."

"Lubbly 'tuff!" cried Pomp, as he sc.r.a.ped up the fallen wood ashes.

"What's lovely stuff?" I said.

"All dat, Ma.s.s' George. Ma.s.s' Morgan say make um rings grow, and wish dah twenty times as much."

"Ah, that I do," cried Morgan. "Wish I had--"

"Ma.s.s' Morgan like Injum come burn down house 'gain make more?"

"No, you stupid little n.i.g.g.e.r," cried Morgan; "of course not."

_Flop_! Down went the spade, and Pomp began to stalk away sulkily, working his toes about--a way he had of showing his annoyance.

"Hi! Stop!" I cried; "where are you going?"

"Pomp go jump in um ribber, and let de ole 'gator eat um."

"Nonsense! What for?"

"Ma.s.s' Morgan call um 'tupid lil n.i.g.g.e.r. Allus call um 'tupid lil n.i.g.g.e.r, and hurt Pomp all over."

"No, no; come along. Morgan didn't mean it."

"Eh? You no mean it, Ma.s.s' Morgan?" cried the boy, eagerly.

"No, of course not. You're the cleverest boy I ever knew."

"Dah, Ma.s.s' George, hear dat. Now see Pomp wheel dat barrow, and neber spill lil bit ob ashums, and nex' time he go over oder place, he bring um pockets full for Ma.s.s' Morgan garden."

"He's a rum un, sir," said Morgan, "but somehow I like him. Rather like to paint him white, though. Lor', Master George, what a treat it is to be getting down the weeds again. Look at old Han, how he is giving it to 'em. I'm 'bliged to check him a bit though, sometimes; he aren't quite strong yet. Here's the captain."

"Well, Morgan," said my father, as he came up, "how soon do you think we might plant a few creepers about the house? The finis.h.i.+ng and glazing need not interfere with them."

"Oh, we can't put in any more, sir."

"What? Why not? I particularly want two of those wild vines to be put in."

"Did put 'em in before you come out this morning, sir, and the 'suckle and pa.s.sion-flowers too. They'll be up a-top of the roof before we know where we are."