had encountered and from whom he had received more than one
piece of cruel ill-usage--far from perfect, he saw in imagination that
sharp point suddenly thrust right through and into his black flesh as
soon as he tried to take the piece of loaf.

The boys literally shrieked as the black stretched out a hand, made a
feint to take it, and snatched it back again.

"Take it, you stupid!" cried Aunt Georgie, with a menacing gesture.

"Hetty--Ida--look!" whispered Tim, as the black advanced a hand again,
but more cautiously.

"Mind!" shouted Rifle; and the black bounded back, turned to look at the
boy, and then showed his white teeth.

"Are you going to take this bread?" cried Aunt Georgie, authoritatively.

"No tick a knifum in Shanter?" said the black in reply.

"Nonsense! No."

"Shanter all soff in frontum."

"Take the bread."

Every one was laughing and watching the little scone with intense
enjoyment as, full of doubt and suspicion, the black advanced his hand
again very cautiously, and nearly touched the bread, when Aunt Georgie
uttered a contemptuous "pish!" whose effect was to make the man bound
back a couple of yards, to the lady's great disgust.

"I've a great mind to throw it at his stupid, cowardly head," she cried
angrily.

"Don't do that," said the captain, wiping his eyes. "Poor fellow! he
has been tricked before. A burned child fears the fire.--Hi! Ashantee,
take the bread," said the captain, and he wiped his eyes again.

"Make um all cry," said the black, apostrophising Aunt Georgie; then,
turning to the captain, "Big white Mary won't tick knifum in poor
Shanter?"

"No, no, she will not.--Here, auntie, give him the bread with your
hand."

"I won't," said Aunt Georgie, emphatically. "I will not encourage his
nasty, suspicious thoughts. He must be taught better. As if I, an
English lady, would do such a thing as behave like a murderous bravo of
Venice.--Come here, sir, directly, and take that bread off the point of
the knife," and she accompanied her words with an unmistakable piece of
pantomime, holding the bread out, and pointing with one finger.

"Don't, pray, don't stop the fun, uncle," whispered Tim.

"No; let 'em alone," growled Uncle Jack, whose face was puckered up into
a broad laugh.

"Do you hear me, sir?"

"No tick a knifum in?"

"No; of course not. No--No."

"All right," said the black; and he stretched out his hand again, and
with his eyes fixed upon Aunt Georgie