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"Brer Buzzard, he ain't sayin' nuthin', but he keep up a monstus thinkin', en one day he come 'long en holler en tell Brer Rabbit dat he done fine rich gol'-mine des 'cross de river. "'You come en go longer me, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer Tukkey Buzzard, sezee. 'Ill scratch en you kin grabble, en 'tween de two un us we'll make short wuk er dat gol'-mine, sezee.
"Have you heard the news from the creeks?" "No." "Your claims are blanks; your men have quit." The Frenchman shook his head sadly, then smiled a wistful little smile. "Wal, it's better I lose dan you or Necia; I ain' de lucky kin', dat's all; an', affer all, w'at good to me is riche gol'-mine? I ain' got no use for money any more."
'I got a gol'-mine er my own, one w'at I make myse'f, en I speck we better go back ter mine 'fo' we bodder 'longer yone, sezee. "Den ole Brer Buzzard, he laff, he did, twel he shake, en Brer Rabbit, he sing out: "'Hol' on, Brer Buzzard! Don't flop yo' wings w'en you laff, kaze den if you duz, sump'n 'ill drap fum up yer, en my gol'-mine won't do you no good, en needer will yone do me no good.
I can sell dis dress for t'ousan' dollar to-night, or I can trade 'im for gol'-mine on El Dorado Creek to some dose Swede w'at want to catch a gal, but I'm goin' sell 'im to you for t'ree hondred dollar, jus' w'at I pay for 'im. You wait here till I come back."
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