"Wat you doin', you nigger you?" demanded Riar, angrily, as she wiped
the blood from her face. "I dar' yer ter come down out'n dat tree, an'
I'll beat de life out'n yer; I'll larn yer who ter be shakin' chunks
on."
In vain did Dilsey apologize, and say she thought it was a 'possum;
Riar would listen to no excuse; and as soon as Dilsey reached the
ground they had a rough-and-tumble fight, in which both parties got
considerably worsted in the way of losing valuable hair, and of having
their eyes filled with dirt and their clean dresses all muddied; but
Tot was so much afraid Riar, her little nurse and maid, would get hurt
that she screamed and cried, and refused to be comforted until the
combatants suspended active hostilities, though they kept up
quarrelling for some time, even after they had recommenced their
search for 'possums.
"Dilsey don't know how to tree no 'possums," said Riar,
contemptuously, after they had walked for some time, and anxiously
looked up into every tree they passed.
"Yes I kin," retorted Dilsey; "I kin tree 'em jes ez same ez er dog,
ef'n dar's any 'possums fur ter tree; but I can't make 'possums, do;
an' ef dey ain't no 'possums, den I can't tree 'em, dat's all."
"Maybe they don't come out on the Fourf uv July," said Dumps.
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