One evening recently, the lady whom Uncle Remus calls Miss Sally missed her little seven-year-old. Making search for him through the house and through the yard, she heard the sound of voices in the old mans cabin, and looking through the window, saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. His head rested against the old mans arm, and he was gazing with an expression of the most intense interest into the rough, weather-beaten face that beamed so kindly upon him. This is what Miss Sally heard:
Bimeby, one day, after Brer Fox bin doin all dat he could fer ter ketch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bin doin all he could fer ter keep im fum it, Brer Fox say to hissef dat hed put up a game on Brer Rabbit, en he aint mon got de wuds outn his mouf twel Brer Rabbit come a-lopin up de big road, lookin des ez plump en ez fat en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-patch.
Hol on dar, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
I aint got time, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, sorter mendin his licks.
I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
All right, Brer Fox, but you better holler fum whar you stan: Im monstus full er fleas dis mawnin, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
I seed Brer Bar yistiddy, sez Brer Fox, sezee, en he sorter raked me over de coals kaze you en me aint make frens en live naberly, en I told him dat Id see you.
Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off hine-foot sorter jubusly, en den he ups en sez, sezee:
All a-settin, Brer Fox. Sposen you drap roun ter-morrer en take dinner wid me. We aint got no great doins at our house, but I speck de ole oman en de chilluns kin sort o scramble roun en git up sumpn fer ter stay yo stummuck.
Im greeble, Brer Rabbit, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
Den Ill pen on you, says Brer Rabbit, sezee.
Nex day, Mr. Rabbit an Miss Rabbit got up soon, fo day, en raided on a gyarden like Miss Sallys out dar, en got some cabbiges, en some roasn-years, en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix up a smashin dinner. Bimeby one er de little Rabbits, playin out in de backyard, come runnin in hollerin, Oh, ma! oh, ma! I seed Mr. Fox a-comin! En den Brer Rabbit he tuck de chilluns by der years en make um set down, and den him en Miss Rabbit sorter dally roun waitin for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin, but no Brer Fox aint come. Atter while Brer Rabbit goes to de do, easy like, en peep out, en dar, stickin out fum behime de cornder, wuz de tip-een er Brer Foxs tail. Den Brer Rabbit shot de do en sot down, en put his paws behime his years, en begin fer ter sing:
Nex day Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink en skuze hissef kaze he wuz too sick fer ter come, en he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter come en take dinner wid him, en Brer Rabbit say he wuz greeble.
Bimeby, wen de shadders wuz at der shortes, Brer Rabbit he sorter brush up en santer down ter Brer Foxs house, en wen he got dar he yer somebody groanin, en he look in de do, en dar he see Brer Fox settin up in a rockin-cheer all wrop up wid flannil, en he look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit look all roun, he did, but he aint see no dinner. De dish-pan wuz settin on de table, en close by wuz a kyarvin-knife.
Look like you gwineter have chicken fer dinner, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice en fresh en tender, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull his mustarsh, en say, You aint got no calamus-root, is you, Brer Fox? I done got so now dat I cant eat no chicken ceppin shes seasoned up wid calamus-root. En wid dat Brer Rabbit lipt out er de do and dodge mong de bushes, en sot dar watchin fer Brer Fox; en he aint watch long, nudder, kaze Brer Fox flung off de flannil en crope out er de house en got whar he could close in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer Rabbit holler out, Oh, Brer Fox! Ill des put yo calamus-root out yer on dis yer stump. Better come git it while hits fresh. And wid dat Brer Rabbit gallop off home. En Brer Fox aint never kotch im yit, en wats mo, honey, he aint gwineter.
Didnt the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus? asked the little boy the next evening.
He come mighty nigh it, honey, shos you bawnBrer Fox did. One day arter Brer Rabbit fool im wid dat calamus-root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got im some tar, en mix it wid some turken-time, en fix up a contrapshun what he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes fer ter see wat de news wuz gwineter be. En he didnt hatter wait long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin down de roadlippity-clippity, clippity-lippitydes ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox he lay low. Brer Rabbit come prancin long twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behime legs like he was stonished. De Tar-Baby she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox he lay low.
Mawnin! sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; nice wedder dis mawnin, sezee.
Tar-Baby aint sayin nuthin en Brer Fox he lay low.
How duz yo symtums seem ter segashuate? sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
Brer Fox he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby she aint sayin nuthin.
How you come on, den? Is you deaf? sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. Kaze if you is I kin holler louder, sezee.
Tar-Baby lay still, en Brer Fox he lay low.
Youer stuck up, dats wat you is, says Brer Rabbit, sezee, en Im gwineter kyore you, dats wat Im a-gwineter do, sezee.
Brer Fox he sorter chuckle in his stummuck, he did, but Tar-Baby aint sayin nuthin.
Im gwineter larn you howter talk ter specttubble fokes ef hits de las ack, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. Ef you dont take off dat hat en tell me howdy, Im gwineter bus you wide open, sezee.
Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox he lay low.
Brer Rabbit keep on axin im, en de Tar-Baby she keep on sayin nuthin, twel presenty Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis, he did, en blip he tuck er side er de head. Right dars whar he broke his merlasses-jug. His fis stuck, en he cant pull loose. De tar hilt him. But Tar-Baby she stay still, en Brer Fox he lay low.
Ef you dont lemme loose, Ill knock you agin, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; en wid dat he fotch er a wipe wid te udder han, en dat stuck. Tar-Baby she aint sayin nuthin, en Brer Fox he lay low.
Tun me loose, of I kick de natal stuffin outen you, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; but de Tar-Baby she aint sayin nuthin. She des hilt on, en den Brer Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar-Baby dont tun im loose he butt er crank-sided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den Brer Fox he santered fort, lookin des ez innercent ez wunner yo mammys mockin-birds.
Howdy, Brer Rabbit? sez Brer Fox, sezee. You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin, sezee; en den he rolled on de groun, en laft en laft twel he couldnt laff no mo. I speck youll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus-root, en I aint gwineter take no skuse, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes.
Did the fox eat the rabbit? asked the little boy to whom the story had been told.
Dats all de fur de tale goes, replied the old man. He mout, en den agin he moutent. Some say Jedge Bar come long en loosed im; some say he didnt. I hear Miss Sally callin. You better run long.
Uncle Remus, said the little boy one evening, when he had found the old man with little or nothing to do, did the fox kill and eat the rabbit when he caught him with the Tar-Baby?
Law, honey, aint I tell you bout dat? replied the old darky, chuckling slyly. I clar ter grashus I ought er tole you dat; but ole man Nod wuz ridin on my eyelids twel a leetle mon Id a dismemberd my own name, en den on to dat here come yo mammy hollerin atter you.
Wat I tell you wen I fus begin? I tole you Brer Rabbit wuz a monstus soon beas; leasways dats wat I laid out fer ter tell you. Well, den, honey, dont you go en make no udder kalkalashuns, kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his family wuz at de head er de gang wen enny racket wuz on han, en dar dey stayed. Fo you begins fer ter wipe yo eyes bout Brer Rabbit, you wait en see wharbouts Brer Rabbit gwineter fetch up at. But dats needer yer ner dar.
Wen Brer Fox fine Brer Rabbit mixt up wid de Tar-Baby, he feel mighty good, en he roll on de groun en laff. Bimeby he up n say, sezee:
Well, I speck I got you dis time, Brer Rabbit, sezee; maybe I aint but I speck I is. You been runnin roun here sassin atter me a mighty long time, but I speck you done come ter de een er de row. You bin cuttin up yo capers en bouncin roun in dis naberhood ontwel you come ter bleeve yosef de boss er de whole gang. En den youer allers somers whar you got no bizness, sez Brer Fox, sezee. Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a quaintence wid dish yer Tar-Baby? En who stuck you up dar whar you iz? Nobody in de roun worril. You des tuck en jam yosef on dat Tar-Baby widout waitin fer enny invite, sez Brer Fox, sezee en dar you is, en dar youll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze Im gwineter bobbycue you dis day, sho, sez Brer Fox, sezee.
Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty umble.
I dont keer wat you do wid me, Brer Fox, sezee, so you dont fling me in dat brier-patch. Roas me, Brer Fox, sezee, but dont fling me in dat brier-patch, sezee.
Hits so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier, sez Brer Fox, sezee, dat I speck Ill hatter hang you, sezee.
Hang me des ez high ez you please, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but do fer de Lords sake dont fling me in dat brier-patch, sezee.
I aint got no string, sez Brer Fox, sezee, en now I speck Ill hatter drown you, sezee.
Drown me ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but dont fling me in dat brier-patch, sezee.
Dey aint no water nigh, sez Brer Fox, sezee, en now I speck Ill hatter skin you, sezee.
Skin me, Brer Fox, sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, snatch out my eyeballs, tar out my years by de roots, en cut off my legs, sezee, but do please, Brer Fox, dont fling me in dat brier-patch, sezee.
Cose Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch him by de behime legs en slung im right in de middle er de brier-patch. Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en Brer Fox sorter hung roun fer ter see what wuz gwineter happen. Bimeby he hear somebody call im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit settin cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin de pitch outen his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox know dat he bin swop off mighty bad. Brer Rabbit wuz bleedzed fer ter fling back some er his sass, en he holler out:
Bred en bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox; bred en bawn in a brier-patch! en wid dat he skip out des ez lively ez a cricket in de embers.