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Den Miss Sally, she cut me off er slishe wunner deze yer ongodly slishes, big ez yo' hat, an' I sot down on de steps an' wrop myse'f roun' de whole blessid chunk, 'cep'in' de rime." Uncle Remus paused and laid his hand upon his stomach as if feeling for something. "Well, old man, what then?" "Dat's w'at I'm a gittin' at, boss," said Uncle Remus, smiling a feeble smile.

"Co'se de talk fell on Brer Fox, en Miss Meadows en de gals make a great 'miration 'bout w'at a gaily ridin'-hoss Brer Fox wuz, en dey make lots er fun, en laugh en giggle same like gals duz deze days.

Hyear, honey," addressing the child, "take deze hyear white-oak splits an' go'n make yer er baskit 'long o' yer ma."

It sounds something like English gone quite mad and the last line, it seems to me, runs rather trippingly and contains something of an idea too, whatever it means: "Al wat er is. Mijn hoop is Christus en zyn bloed. Door deze leer ik en hoop door die het eenwig goed. Ons leven is maar eenen dag, vol ziekten en vol naar geklag. Een schim Eien droom en anders niet."

"Hush, honey," Blue Dave cried, as exultantly as a child; "'fo' dey gits ter de big gate, I'll know deze yer bosses better dan ef dey wuz my br'er." After that, nothing more was said. The road had been made firm and smooth by the heavy beating rain, and the carriage swung along easily and rapidly. The negro housemaid fell back against the cushions, and was soon sound asleep; but Mrs.

He let a yell like forty yaller cats a courtin', an' den he broke. You ain't seed no nigger hump hisse'f like dat nigger. He tore down de well shelter and fo' pannils er fence, an' de groun' look like wunner deze yer harrycanes had lit dar and fanned up de yeath." "Why, I thought you killed him?" "He bleedzed ter be dead, boss. Ain't I put de gun right on 'im?

Their leader was a man named Laporte, a native of Alais, who had become a master-blacksmith in the pass of Deze. He was accompanied by an inspired man, a former wool-carder, born at Magistavols, Esprit Seguier by name. This man was, after Laquoite, the most highly regarded of the twenty or thirty prophets who were at that moment going up and down the Cevennes in every direction.

"Hit uz Dilsey," answered Chris and Riar in a breath; and Mammy, giving Dilsey a sharp slap, said, "Now yer come er prancin' in hyear ergin wid all kin' er news, an' I bet yer'll be sorry fur it. Yer know better'n dat. Yer know deze chil'en ain't got no bizness 'long o' specerlaters." In the meanwhile Dumps and Tot were crying over their disappointment. "Yer mean old thing!" sobbed Dumps.

"I lay yo' mammy 'll 'spishun dat de rats' stummicks is widenin' in dis neighborhood w'en she come fer ter count up 'er cakes," said Uncle Remus, with a chuckle. "Deze," he continued, dividing the cakes into two equal parts "dese I'll tackle now, en dese I'll lay by fer Sunday. "Lemme see. I mos' dis'member wharbouts Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit wuz."

"Dey ain't none er you young w'ite men never had no 'casion fer ter strike up wid one er deze Mobile niggers?" asked Uncle Remus. "'Kaze ef you iz, den you knows wharbouts de devilment come in. Show me a Mobile nigger," continued the old man, an I'll show you a nigger dat's marked for de chain-gang.