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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Brer B'ar say he much oblije en he bleeve he'll go long, en wid dat dey put out fer Brer Rabbit's new-groun', w'ich 'twa'n't so mighty fur. Leas'ways, dey got dar atter w'ile. Ole Brer B'ar, he 'low dat he kin smell de honey. Brer Rabbit, he 'low dat he kin see de honey-koam.
Aunt Dilsey, I's grateful to you in my heart, honest I is, fur runnin' me 'way frum yore presence yere jes' a little w'ile ago. You never knowed it at the time I didn't s'picion it also neither but you done me a favor. 'Ca'se settin' out yonder in the stable all alone and ponderin' deep, all of a sudden somethin' jes' come right over me an' I knowed whut's been the matter wid me lately.
"Right you are!" said Shorty; "now, sit down 'ere w'ile I'm goin' over me shirt, an' arsk me anything yer a mind to." I began immediately by asking him what he meant by "going over" his shirt. "Blimy! You are new to this game, mate! You mean to s'y you ain't got any graybacks!" I confessed shamefacedly that I had not.
Present'y he say ter hisse'f dat he bleedzd ter have a nip at dat butter, en den he lay his plans, he did. Fus' news you know, w'ile dey wuz all wukkin' long, Brer Rabbit raise his head quick en fling his years forerd en holler out: "'Here I is. W'at you want wid me? en off he put like sump'n wuz atter 'im.
Besides, do you t'ink I'd forsake my Angelica an' leabe her to feed alone downstairs, w'ile her husband was a-gorgin' of his-self above? Neber! It's no use for you, Geo'ge, to say you'd be happy to see her too, for she wouldn't do it, an' she's as obsnit as me an' more! Now you make your mind easy, I'll be your mudder's black flunkey for lub, not for munny. So you hole your tongue, Geo'ge!"
Black-snake know de way ter de hin nes'. Looks won't do ter split rails wid. Settin' hens don't hanker arter fresh aigs. Tater-vine growin' w'ile you sleep. Hit take two birds fer to make a nes'. Ef you bleedzd ter eat dirt, eat clean dirt. Tarrypin walk fast 'nuff fer to go visitin'. Empty smoke-house makes de pullet holler. W'en coon take water he fixin' fer ter fight.
The Swede was again coming up the bank. At the top he did as he had done more than once before: turned out in a wide circle, letting two men pass him. The Englishman strode swiftly toward him. "Hi, there, you big Swede!" he yelled, his words accompanied by a volley of insulting epithets born in the slums of London. "Wot you trying to do? Want the 'ole works to pawss you w'ile you rest?
I tole dem w'en I got ready ter be a man, I would put on overalls." "I'se a member ob de Missionary Baptist Chuch. I ain' bin fer a long time kaze I ain' able ter go. De ole song I members ez "Dixie Land," en "Run Nigger Run, de Pat-a rollers Will Git You." "Oh Lawdy! I think sum ob is young peeple ain' no count w'ile sum ob dem ez alright. I think each color should ma'rie his own color.
W'ile he sayin' his pra'rs over like a train er kyars runnin', ole Brer Fox holler out: "'Heyo, Brer Rabbit! Who you wizzitin' down dar? sezee. "'Who? Me? Oh, I'm des a fishin', Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'I des say ter myse'f dat I'd sorter sprize you all wid a mess er fishes fer dinner, en so here I is, en dar's de fishes. I'm a fishin' fer suckers, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"Ay tank you yust wait one leedle w'ile," said the Swedish boat- builder, who had struck his Klondike right there and was wise enough to know it "one leedle w'ile und I make you a tam fine skiff boat, sure Pete."
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