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Castlemon, Harry, [pseud.], 1842-1915

"Frank on a Gun-Boat"

"
"Put away dat gun, young massa," chimed in Pomp; "dere's no danger."
Frank could not resist this appeal, for the bed, which the old woman
had made for him in one corner of the cabin, rough as it was, was a
pleasant sight to his eyes. So, after hiding his rifle under one of
the quilts, where he could get his hand upon it at a moment's warning,
he threw himself upon the bed without removing his clothes, and was
fast asleep in a moment. It seemed to him that he had hardly closed
his eyes, when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and Pomp's voice
whispered in his ear:
"Wake up, young massa; 'most daylight."
"You sleep mighty sound, chile," said the old woman, as Frank rose
from the bed. "I's sorry to be 'bilged to 'sturb you, but you must
be gwine now. Here's a little bite for you to eat." As she spoke,
she handed Frank a haversack, such as he had often seen used by the
soldiers of the rebel army, filled with corn-bread and cold ham. Frank
slung it over his shoulder, and, after pulling his rifle out from
under the bed, said:
"Aunty, I thank you for your kindness to"--
"Lor' A'mighty, chile!" interrupted the woman, "don't say one word
'bout dat, I tol' you.


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