Another negro was below, feeding the fire with 'light wood,' and a third
was tending the trough by which the liquid rosin found its way into the
semi-circle of rough barrels intended for its reception.
'Hello, Junius, what in creation are you doing there?' asked the
Colonel, as we approached, of the negro on the turpentine barrel.
'Holein' her down, Cunnel; de ole ting got a mine to blow up dis mornin;
I'se got dis barrl up har to hole her down.'
'Why, you everlasting nigger, if the top leaks you'll be blown to
eternity in half a second.'
'Reckon not, massa; de barrl and me kin hole her. We'll take de risk.'
'Perhaps _you_ will,' said the Colonel, laughing, 'but I won't. Nigger
property isn't of much account, but you're too good a darky, June, to be
sent to the devil for a charge of turpentine.'
'Tank you, massa, but you dun kno' dis ole ting like I do. You cudn't
blow her up nohow; I'se tried her afore dis way.'
'Don't you do it again; now mind; if you do I'll make a white man of
you.' (This I suppose referred to a process of flaying with a switch;
though the switch is generally thought to _redden_, not _whiten_, the
darky.)
The negro did not seem at all alarmed, for he showed his ivories in a
broad grin as he replied, 'Jess as you say, massa; you'se de boss in dis
shanty.
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