ll him,
w'in I goes home."

She gathered up the clothes basket and went into an adjoining room,
leaving Kintchin to muse alone. He heard the low whistle of a
backwoodsman's improvised tune, and looking up, saw a man leaning
against the door-facing. To the old negro the new comer was not a
stranger. Once that big foot had kicked him out of the road, and lying
in his straw bed the poor wretch had burned with resentment, cowed,
helpless; and sleeping, had dreamed of killing the brute and awoke with
a tune on his black lips. He knew Lije Peters, neighborhood bully
without being a coward, a born black-mailer, a ruffian with the touch of
humor, ignorant with sometimes an allegorical cast of speech. As he
entered the room he looked about and seeing no one else, spoke to
Kintchin:

"Whar's Jasper Starbuck?"

"I seed Miss Margaret an' Miss Lou out yander jest now," Kintchin
answered, backing off as Peters advanced toward him.

"I didn't ask about them. Whew, what you got sich a hot fire in here
for?"

"Mammy's been ironin'."

"Yes. Been a meltin iron I should think. Is Starbuck at home? Answer me,
you scoundrel." He made a threatening gesture and Kintchin, backing
further off, cried out, "Doan rush me, suh. Ef I'se er scoundul you
hatter give me time. Er scoundul hatter be keerful whut he say. I seed
Mr. Starbuck dis mawnin', suh."

Peters turned as if to go out, but halted and looked at Kintchin. The
old negro nodded. "Say, is that young feller and that woman here yit?"

"Gimmy time--gimmy time. I's er scoundul, you know."

"Do you want me to mash your head?"

Kintchin put his hand to his head. "Whut, dis one right yere? No, suh, I
doan blebe I does."

"Well, then answer me. That woman and young chap here yet?"

"Yas, suh, da's yere."

"She's his aunt, I understand."

"Yas, suh, dat's whut you un'erstand."

"Why did they come here? What are they doin'?"

"Gimmy time. Da come caze da wanter ter, an' now dat da's yere, da's
jest er bo'din'; dat's all."

"You are an old fool."

"Yas, suh," replied Kintchin, "dat's whut I yere."

Mammy came in and said to Kintchin, "De steers broke down de fence an'
is eatin' up de co'n. See, through de winder?"

"Dat won't do," Kintchin exclaimed with hurry in his voice but with
passive feet. "No, it won't do. Steer ain't got no right ter come roun'
er eatin' up de co'n."

"But w'y doan you go on, man? Mars Jasper'll git arter you."

"I's gwine. Allus suthin' ter mak