The boy tried to shout his defiance, but "you are a--a--a
f--f--f--," was all he could utter and even this was forestalled by
Kintchin, who called back at him: "Oh, we knows all erbout dat."
The road dipped down, turned, and they drove upon a ferry-boat, a mere
platform of rude plank and propelled by two gaunt men. On the other
shore they drove along still keeping close to the river. A country boy
hailed them, but without heeding him Kintchin remarked: "Dat's Laz
Spencer, an' he takin' dat meal bag home somewhar ter borry suthin'
else. Ef he wuz ter go ter heben an' foun' dat he couldn't borry some
angel's harp, he wouldn't stay dar. I 'spize ter see er pusson all de
time wantin' suthin'."
"You don't borrow, do you?" Tom asked, and he answered:
"Who, me? No, suh. I earns all I gits--ef not befo', afterwards. Jest ez
sho ez er pusson gibs me suthin' I gwine earn it."
Turning off from the river and entering upon a piece of level ground,
they came to the post-office, an old log house with gable end toward the
road. In an inclosure a number of tow-headed boys were trying to ride a
calf.
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