Upson's dogs, dey'll trace me plum hyear; an' wat I is ter do I dunno;
I jes prays constunt ter de Lord. He'll he'p me, I reckon, caze I
prays tree times eby day, an' den in 'tween times."
"Is your name Brer Dan'l?" asked Dumps, who remembered Uncle Bob's
story of Daniel's praying three times a day.
"No, honey, my name's Pomp; but den I'm er prayin' man, des same ez
Danl' wuz."
"Well, Uncle Pomp," said Diddie, "you stay here just as long as you
can, an' I'll ask papa to see Mr. Tight-fis' Smith, an' he'll get--"
"Lor', chile," interrupted Uncle Pomp, "don't tell yer pa nuf'n 'boutn
it; he'll sho' ter sen' me back, an' dat man'll beat me half ter def;
caze I'se mos' loss er week's time now, an' hit's er mighty 'tickler
time in de crap."
"But, s'posin' the dogs might come?" said Dumps.
"Well, honey, dey ain't come yit; an' wen dey duz come, den hit'll be
time fur ter tell yer pa."
"Anyhow, we'll bring you something to eat," said Diddie, "and try and
help you all we can; but we must go back now, befo' Mammy hunts for
us; so good-bye;" and again they left him to himself.
As they neared the house, Dumps asked Diddie how far it was to Mr.
"Tight-fis' Smith's."
"I don't know exactly," said Diddie; "'bout three miles, I think."
"Couldn't we walk there, an' ask him not to whup Uncle Pomp? Maybe he
wouldn't, ef we was ter beg him right hard.
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