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"Plenty whar?" "Da plenty in Sawanny. I enty fer see no crab an' no oscher; en swimp, he no stay 'roun'. I lak some rice-bud now." "You er talkin' 'bout deze yer sparrers, w'ich dey er all head, en 'lev'm un makes one mouffle,*2 I speck," suggested Uncle Remus.
Kaze ef dey is, I ain't got no time fer ter be tarryin' 'roun' yer. "Brer Fox say w'ich he don't have no onfrennelness, en wid dat Brer Rabbit cut Brer Fox loose des in time fer ter hear Mr. Man w'isserlin up his dogs, en one went one way en de udder went nudder."
But I'm glad to see ye lookin' brighter'n you did yist'day, Sissy; Tim'thy's wife'll have an eye on ye. She's comin' here agin to-morrer, she says, to a weddin'. You didn't tell me 'bout any one gittin' married not in sich a hurry, not to-morrer. W'ich gal is it?" "Wouldn't think it was Cadge, would you?" laughed Kitty, staggering into the room under the weight of a big palm.
"Brer B'ar say he much oblije en he bleeve he'll go long, en wid dat dey put out fer Brer Rabbit's new-groun', w'ich 'twa'n't so mighty fur. Leas'ways, dey got dar atter w'ile. Ole Brer B'ar, he 'low dat he kin smell de honey. Brer Rabbit, he 'low dat he kin see de honey-koam.
"So I should suppose, ma'am," observed Mrs Niven, "he being called Kurnel, w'ich is an army name."
Lor! thunder wouldn't sturve him, the way he is in." "Then tell me, how was it? When was he stricken?" "We don't know, marse. He was found jes' dis way by John dis mornin' not jes zackly dis way, howaseber, case he was a-layin' on his lef side, w'ich was berry bad; so me an' John turn him ober jes so like he is a-layin' now.
"Yes," he continued, "a whole skin's better nor a broken one, an' it's well to bring back a whole one, though I'm not a-goin' for to deny that there's some advantage in bringing back other sorts o' skins too, d'ye see? w'ich goes for to prove the true feelosophy of the fact, d'ye see? Bounce paused, in the midst of his mental energy, to take a parenthetic whiff.
"Nothing, I only forgot to ask your name." "Tom Lokins," he bellowed, in the hoarse voice of a regular boatswain, "w'ich wos my father's name before me." So saying, he departed, whistling "Rule Britannia" with all his might. Thus the matter was settled. Six days afterwards, I rigged myself out in a blue jacket, white ducks, and a straw hat, and went to sea.
It's what I may call, in the language of the haristocracy, a harticle of virtoo, w'ich means that it's a harticle as is surrounded by virtuous memories in connection with the defunct. Now then, say five bob for the hold harm-chair!" While the clown was endeavouring to get the chair disposed of, Willie pushed his way to the side of Jim Cattley.
"Where was the ark, Uncle Remus?" the little boy inquired, presently. "W'ich ark's dat?" asked the old man, in a tone of well-feigned curiosity. "Noah's ark," replied the child. "Don't you pester wid ole man Noah, honey. I boun' he tuck keer er dat ark. Dat's w'at he wuz dar fer, en dat's w'at he done. Leas'ways, dat's w'at dey tells me.
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