ng continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged.
Jim came skipping out at the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals.
Bringing water from the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes,
before, but now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company
at the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there waiting
their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, skylarking.
And he remembered that although the pump was only a hundred and fifty yards
off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under an hour--and even then
somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said:
"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some."
Jim shook his head and said:
"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis water
an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars Tom gwine to
ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend to my own business--she
'lowed SHE'D 't
