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I give de chile sum tater an' handed it to its mudder, an' tole her to put a sugar rag in its mouf with sum Sweet Flag an' lay it down, an' den I lef to jine de old folks at de house." "Well, Aunt Barbara, I suppose there was nothing very serious the matter with the child," said Mrs. Ridley. "Yas dar was, missus, an' I got dar jus in time. De chile was taken wid de dry gripes.
So li'l' black Mose he heft up dat pumpkin, an' de ghost he bend' down, an' li'l' black Mose he sot dat pumpkin on dat ghostses neck. An' right off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to wink an' blink like a jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to glimmer an' glow frough de mouf like a jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat ghost start' to speak. Yas, sah, dass so.
No matter 'bout dat, de 'simmon patch 'uz dar des like I tell you, en ole Brer Possum mouf 'gun ter water soon's he year talk un um, en mos' 'fo' Brer Rabbit done tellin' 'im de news, Brer Possum, he put out, he did, en 'twa'n't long 'fo' he wuz perch up in de highes' tree in Brer B'ar 'simmon patch.
But w'en a nigger comes a jabberin' 'roun' like he got a mouf full er rice straw, he ain't got no mo' chance long side er me dan a sick sparrer wid a squinch-owl. You gutter travel wid a circus 'fo' you gits away wid me. You better go long an' git yo' kyarpet-sack and skip de town. You er de freshest nigger w'at I seen yit." The Charleston negro passed on just as a police-man' came up.
'You er monstus stout, Brer B'ar, sezee, 'en you pulls like a yoke er steers, but I sorter had de purchis on you, sezee. "Den Brer B'ar, bein's his mouf 'gun ter water atter de sweetnin, he up'n say he speck de candy's ripe, en off dey put atter it!" "It's a wonder," said the little boy, after a while, "that the rope didn't break."
An' I ain' er doubtin' dat Gineral Wade Hampton is a mighty fine man 'deed I knows he is but ain' she never heard ob Gineral Johnston? 'N' how erbout Gineral Stuart Yaas'm! 'n' the Black Troop, 'n' the Crenshaw Battery, 'n' the Purcell Battery. Yaas'm! 'n' the Howitzers, 'n' the Richmon' Blues Yaas'm! I sho' did mek her shet her mouf! Braggin' ter er Virginia woman ob South Callina!"
"Did you hear the long man speak after that, Vince?" "Yes, mars'r. I heerd de long man tell Mars Dennis dat if he didn't steer de boat an' shet his mouf, he'd shoot him. I heerd de pistol go off, but Mars Dennis wasn't killed, fur I saw him steerin' afterwards." "Thank God!" spoke the sailor, kissing the child. "Ellenory's boy was innocent, by smoke!
First-rate melyons dose; just melt away in your mouf like honey." He held up one of the melons, and Vincent placed in his hands the coppers in payment. Between two of them he had placed the little note. Dan's hands closed quickly on the coins, and dropping them into his pocket he addressed the next customer, while Vincent sauntered away again.
"Well, Missus," replied Aun' Sheba, with the graven-image expression that she often assumed before Mrs. Hunter, "I'se know'd of homes dat hab become wuss dan bake-shops. Neber in my bawn days hab I heerd on an active, prosp'rous baker starbin'. Jes' you try dis cooky right fum de stove an' see ef it doan melt in you'se mouf." And so Aun' Sheba stopped Mrs.
Dey er mighty biggity, dem house niggers is, but I notices dat dey don't let nuthin' pass. Dey goes 'long wid der han's en der mouf open, en w'at one don't ketch de tother one do." There was another pause, and finally the little boy said: "Uncle Remus, you know you promised to-day to tell me why the 'Possum has no hair on his tail."
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