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Updated: June 11, 2025
"De Bad Man, honey; de Ole Boy hisse'f right fresh from de ridjun w'at you year Miss Sally readin' 'bout. He done hide his hawns, en his tail, en his hoof, en he come dress up like w'ite fokes. He tuck off his hat en he bow, en den he tell de blacksmif who he is, en dat he done come atter 'im.
"Bimeby Brer Fox stick his head in de do', en holler out: "'Good evenin', fokes, I wish you mighty well, sezee, en wid dat he make a dash for Brer Rabbit, but Miss Meadows en de gals dey holler en squall, dey did, en Brer Tarrypin he got ter scramblin' roun' up dar on de shelf, en off he come, en blip he tuck Brer Fox on de back er de head.
While they were thus engaged, Uncle Remus came around the corner of the house, talking to himself. "Dey er too lazy ter wuk," he was saying, "en dey specks hones' fokes fer ter stan' up en s'port um. I'm gwine down ter Putmon County whar Mars Jeems is dat's w'at I'm agwine ter do." "What's the matter now, Uncle Remus?" inquired Mr. Huntingdon, folding up his newspaper.
Didn' have drouth in does days. "Any kine of lan' would produce. Ah use ter get a many lashin bout pickin cotton. Ah couldn' pick until ah got dem lashins. Some fokes say lashin don' help but ah clare dey do. "Ah use ter pick cotton and sing. Ah can recollect so well de song. Hit went lak dis: Me an' mah wife had a fallin out She wanted me ter work on de railroad track Etc.
"What is that, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy. "Sorter splimmy-splammy, honey sorter like he in a crowd sorter like his ole 'oman ain't dead ez she mout be. You know how fokes duz w'en dey gits whar people's a moanin'."
'I hope Brer Fox ain't dead, but I speck he is, sezee. 'Even down ter Brer Wolf done gone en lef' 'im. Hit's de busy season wid me, but I'll set up wid 'im. He seem like he dead, yit he mayn't be, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'W'en a man go ter see dead fokes, dead fokes allers raises up der behime leg en hollers, wahoo! sezee. "Brer Fox he stay still.
Hapgood was down on him like a Gull on a sand ele. He sed Hungerford was a mene sneak and had treted him bad. He told me a Lot about how Hungerford worked you fokes for sukkers and how he helped. Seems him and Hungerford was old shipmates and chums and had worked your ant Laviny the same way.
The pore simpel ladd arsk'd my pardonn humbly for having mistook me for a gentelman of Ullerton a frend of his father; on wich I gaive him a shillin, and we parted, vastly plesed with eche other; and this is nott the fust time the site of Ullerton fokes has putt me into a swett." Amongst later letters are very sad ones. The little M. is dead.
De fokes all went ter de udder een' er de track fer ter see how dey come out. W'en de time come Jedge Buzzard strut 'roun' en pull out his watch, en holler out: "'Gents, is you ready? "Brer Rabbit, he say 'yes, en old Miss Tarrypin holler 'go' fum de aidge er de woods. Brer Rabbit, he lit out on de race, en old Miss Tarrypin, she put out for home.
"I notisses it in de alley-ways an on de street-cornders. Dey er rackin' up, mon, deze yer cullud fokes is." "What are you trying to give us now?" inquired one of the young men, in a bilious tone. "The old man's mind is wandering," said the society editor, smoothing the wrinkles out of his lavender kids. Uncle Remus laughed.
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