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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Brer Fox grin, en say, 'Man, hush yo' mouf! "De little Rabs frisk en dey frolic, en play furder off, but dey keep der years primed. "Brer Wolf look at um en 'low, 'Ain't dey slick en purty? "Brer Fox chuckle, en say, 'Oh, I wish you'd hush! "De little Rabs play off furder en furder, but dey keep der years open. "Brer Wolf smack his mouf, en 'low, 'Dey er joosy en tender.
"I char 'tater, spit it out on my finger an' wipe 'cross de chile's mouf, arter dat I make a sugar rag, put some sweet flag in it, put de rag in de chile's mouf and lay it down; it goes to sleep, an' wen it wakes up ef it cries I gin it some more 'tater." "But," queried the Colonel, "suppose it is sick?"
"'Oh, yes! you er kotch, is you? sez Brer Fox, en 'fo' Brer B'ar could 'splain, Brer Rabbit he jump up en down, en holler out: "'Hit 'im in de mouf, Brer Fox; hit 'im in do mouf'; en Brer Fox, he draw back wid de walkin' cane, en blip he tuck 'im, en eve'y time Brer B'ar'd try ter 'splain, Brer Fox'd shower down on him.
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.
Atter de sun goes down dis day you don't fool no mo' folks gwine 'long dis road. "Co'se, Brer Bull-frog dunner w'at Brer B'ar drivin' at, but he know sump'n hatter be done, en dat mighty soon, kaze Brer B'ar 'gun to snap his jaws tergedder en foam at de mouf, en Brer Bull-frog holler out: "'Oh, pray, Brer B'ar!
"On the gridiron, on the gridiron!" hummed Tom, audibly, as he tried clumsily to fit the words to the refrain of a popular song. Dick Prescott was "getting warm" on the scent of the hidden meaning. "Shut yo' mouf!" gruffly commanded the lack. "Ah doan' wantah tell yo' dat again, neider." "Right foot -high foot!" chanted Tom. Mentally Dick Prescott jumped as though he had been shot.
Jeff Davis and Lee and Johnston were hanged at noon. This very moment Little Mac's in Richmond, marching down whatever your damned Pennsylvania Avenue's called " A negro body servant marching in the rear of one of the contemptuous companies broke ranks and rushed over to the reviling soldier. "You damn po' white trash, shet yo' mouf or I'll mek you!
"He ain't got no moustache whut you kin look at dess some blackish whut don' reach out mo'n halfway todes the bofe ends of his mouf." "Well," said Florence, "was Mr. Sanders the one gave her these Persian cats, Kitty Silver?" "I reckon." Mrs. Silver breathed audibly again, and her expression was strongly resentful.
Take care, Mass' George, he don't hab you." I felt my heart beat fast, but I tried to fix it upon my mind in the foremost place that the reptiles fled from me, and were perhaps more alarmed than I was; but as I pressed forward, Pomp suddenly said, piteously "No got shoe like Mass' George. Poor Pomp put him foot in 'gator mouf. Oh!"
Dog talkin' ter hisse'f way off in de woods. "'Spozen he runs up on us, Brer Possum, w'at you gwineter do? sez Brer Coon, sezee. Brer Possum sorter laugh 'round de cornders un his mouf. "'Oh, ef he come, Brer Coon, I'm gwineter stan' by you, sez Brer Possum. 'W'at you gwineter do? sezee. "'Who? me? sez Brer Coon. 'Ef he run up onter me, I lay I give 'im one twis', sezee."
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