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I doan blebe in deze yere 'spensive funuls nohow. Huh, an' you oughter hab ernuff by dis time ter bury bof o' us. An' ef you says de word I'll be buried side o' you ter keep you comp'ny." She ceased her work and looked at him. "I won't need no comp'ny. I'll be busy tellin' de Lawd 'bout de folks down yere. An, I gwine tell him, w'in I goes home."
"She did dat, and dat w'at make all deze yer bob-tail rabbits w'at you see hoppin' en skaddlin' thoo de woods." "Are they all that way just because the old Rabbit lost his tail in the creek?" asked the little boy. "Dat's it, honey," replied the old man. "Dat's w'at dey tells me. Look like dey er bleedzd ter take atter der pa."
"I did talk about goin' ter one o' deze heah occular-eye doctors las' summer, and I went once-t, but I ain't nuver tol' nobody, an' you mustn't say nothin' 'bout it, please, sir. "But yer see, sir." He lowered his voice here to a confidential whisper. "Yer see dat was on account o' de ladies. I was a widder-man den, an', tell de trufe, my mixed glances was gettin' me in trouble.
Dey goes in, an' dar dey er tooken and dar dey hangs on twel you shakes de box, an' den dey draps out des ez fresh ez deze yer fishes w'at you git fum Savannah, an' you ain't got time fer ter look at dere gills, nudder." "Dere's a kind er limberness 'bout niggers dese days dat's mighty cu'us," remarked Uncle Remus yesterday, as he deposited a pitcher of fresh water upon the exchange table.
I'm fear'd fer ter say a perlite wud 'bout myself, an' I des know I ain't gwine 'roun' flatter'n up deze udder niggers." "An' 'tain't dat," responded the darkey, who held a paper in his hand. "We er gittin' up a Good Tempeler's lodge, an' we like ter git yo' name." "Eh-eh, honey! I done see too much er dis nigger tempunce.
You k'n go roun' yer an' sass deze w'ite people, an' maybe dey'll stan' it, but w'en you come a-slingin' yo' jaw at a man w'at wuz gray w'en de fahmin' days gin out, you better go an' git yo' hide greased." "What's the matter, old man?" asked a sympathizing policeman. "Nothin', boss, 'ceppin I ain't gwineter hav' no nigger chillun a hoopin' an' a hollerin' at me w'en I'm gwine long de streets."
The old man then proceeded: "Nex' time Brer Possum met Brer Coon, Brer Coon 'fuse ter 'spon' ter his howdy, en dis make Brer Possum feel mighty bad, seein' ez how dey useter make so many 'scurshuns tergedder. "'W'at make you hol' yo' head so high, Brer Coon? sez Brer Possum, sezee. "'I ain't runnin' wid cowerds deze days, sez Brer Coon. 'W'en I wants you I'll sen' fer you, sezee.
Mars John, he seed I wuz 'stracted, an' he tole me fer ter go roun' yere an' git sump'n' put on it, an' de drug man he 'lowed dat I better have 'er draw'd, an' his wuds wuzzent more'n col' 'fo' wunner deze yer watchyoumaycollums wunner deze dentis' mens had retched fer it wid a pa'r er tongs w'at don't tu'n loose w'en dey ketches a holt. Leas'ways dey didn't wid me.
"Boss, you see dat smart Ellick?" "Yes, what's the matter with him?" "He's one er deze yer scurshun niggers from Charlstun. I seed you a-stannin' over agin de cornder yander, an' ef dat nigger'd a draw'd his monty kyards on me, I wuz a gwineter holler fer you. Would you er come, boss?" "Why, certainly, Uncle Remus." "Dat's w'at I 'low'd. Little more'n he'd a bin aboard er de wrong waggin.
He ended in this way: "All de creeturs hear 'bout it, en dey go 'roun' en say dat Brer Rabbit sholy is got deze 'ere things up here." Uncle Remus tapped his forehead, and the little boy laughed. "I don't think Brother Lion had much sense," remarked the little boy. "Yes, he had some," said Uncle Remus. "He bleedz ter had some, but he ain't got much ez Brer Rabbit.
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