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Couldn't get a nipper." "'E's 'oppy, 'e is; 'e ain't no good." "No good?" said Beale. "That's all you know! 'E's a wunner, and no bloomin' error. Turns the ladies round 'is finger as easy as kiss yer 'and. Clever as a traindawg 'e is an' all outer 'is own 'ead. And to 'ear the way 'e does the patter to me on the road. It's as good as a gaff any day to 'ear 'im. My word!
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.
"Well, I am blamed!" cried Billy savagely, as he saw the captain and major strolling away and the boatswain and Mark laughing at him. "It's all his orbstinacy that's what it is. I'll give him such a wunner when I gets hold of him. I'll make him say `chack!"
"I wunner ye jined the Airmy at all, M'Slattery," observed one bold spirit, when the orator paused for breath. "I wunner myself," said M'Slattery simply. "If I had kent all aboot this 'attention, and 'stan'-at-ease, and needin' tae luft your hand tae your bunnet whenever you saw yin o' they gentry-pups of officers goin' by, dagont if I'd hae done it, Germans or no!
Just then a gruff, familiar voice came out of the steam behind me. "Mr Brymer's orders, sir, as you're to hand me the nozzle, and go aft and get a refresher. Says you must be choked enough." "Did he order me to go, Bob?" I said. "That's it, sir. Give's hold." I handed the nozzle. "Talk about a fog," he cried; "this is a wunner. I say, Mr Dale." "Yes."
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?
De leaves on de groun' 'uz so wet dey don't make no fuss, en I got in de woods, en w'enever I year de Yankees gwine by, I des stop in my tracks en let un pass. I wuz stan'in' dat away in de aidge er de woods lookin' out cross a clearin', w'en piff! out come a little bunch er blue smoke fum de top er wunner dem big lonesome-lookin' pines, en den pow!
Las' Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee: "'Brer B'ar, I speck I got some bizness cut out fer you, sezee. "'What dat, Brer Rabbit? sez Brer B'ar, sezee. "'W'iles I wuz cleanin' up my new-groun' day 'fo' yistiddy, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'I come 'cross wunner deze yer ole time bee- trees.
"Hol' on dar, Uncle Remus; you ain't tell me 'bout Jim," exclaimed the Jonesboro negro. "I done tell you all I knows, chile. Jim, he tuck'n light on de mule, an' de mule she up'n hump 'erse'f, an den dey wuz a skuffle, an' w'en de dus' blow 'way, dar lay de nigger on de groun', an' de mule she stood eatin' at de troff wid wunner Jim's gallusses wrop 'roun' her behime-leg.
The Savannah negro here gave utterance to a loud, contemptuous laugh, and began to fumble somewhat ostentatiously with a big brass watch-chain. "But I speck I struck up wid a payin' job las' Chuseday," continued Uncle Remus, in a hopeful tone. "Wey you gwan do?" "Oh, I'm a waitin' on a culled gemmun fum Savannah wunner deze yer high livers you bin tellin' 'bout." "How dat?"
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