Free Nights with Uncle Remus by Joel Chandler Harris Page B

hadn’t er drapt de cloze, he’d er got kotch. Fum dat, wud went ’roun’ dat Brer Fox bin tryin ter steal Miss Goose cloze, en he come mighty nigh losin’ his stannin’ at Miss Meadows. Down ter dis day,” Uncle Remus continued, preparing to fill his pipe, “Brer Fox b’leeve dat Brer Rabbit wuz de ’casion er Mr. Dog bein’ in de neighborhoods at dat time er night, en Brer Rabbit aint ’spute it. De bad feelin’ ’twix’ Brer Fox en Mr. Dog start right dar, en hits bin agwine on twel now dey aint git in smellin’ distuns er one er n’er widout deys a row.”

II
    Brother Fox Catches Mr. Horse
    There was a pause after the story of old Miss Goose. The culmination was hardly sensational enough to win the hearty applause of the little boy, and this fact appeared to have a depressing influence upon Uncle Remus. As he leaned slightly forward, gazing into the depths of the great fireplace, his attitude was one of pensiveness.
    â€œI ’speck I done wo’ out my welcome up at de big house,” he said, after a while. “I mos’ knows I is,” he continued, setting himself resignedly in his deep-bottomed chair. “Kaze de las’ time I uz up dar, I had my eye on Miss Sally mighty nigh de whole blessid time, en w’en you see Miss Sally rustlin’ ’roun’ makin’ lak she fixin’ things up dar on de mantle-shelf, en bouncin’ de cheers ’roun’, en breshin’ dus’ whar dey aint no dus’, en flyin’ ’roun’ singin’ sorter louder dan common, den I des knows sump’n’ done gone en rile ’er.”
    â€œWhy, Uncle Remus!” exclaimed the little boy; “Mamma was just glad because I was feeling so good.”
    â€œMought er bin,” the old man remarked, in a tone that was far from implying conviction. “Ef ’twa’n’t dat, den she wuz gittin’ tired er seein’ me lounjun’ ’roun’ up dar night atter night, en ef ’twa’n’t dat, den she wuz watchin’ a chance fer ter preach ter yo’ pa. Oh, I done bin know Miss Sally long fo’ yo’ pa is!” exclaimed Uncle Remus, in response to the astonishment depicted upon the child’s face. “I bin knowin’ ’er sence she wuz so high, en endurin’ er all dat time I aint seed no mo’ up’n spoken w’ite ’oman dan w’at Miss Sally is.
    â€œBut dat aint needer yer ner dar. You done got so youk’n rush down yer des like you useter, en we kin set yer en smoke, en tell tales, en study up ’musements same like we wuz gwine on ’fo’ you got dat splinter in yo’ foot.
    â€œI mines me er one time”—with an infectious laugh—“w’en ole Brer Rabbit got Brer Fox in de wuss trubble w’at a man wuz mos’ ever got in yit, en dat ’uz w’en he fool ’im ’bout de hoss. Aint I never tell you ’bout dat? But no marter ef I is. Hoecake aint cook done good twel hit’s turnt over a couple er times.
    â€œWell, atter Brer Fox done git rested fum keepin’ out er de way er Mr. Dog, en sorter ketch up wid his rations, he say ter hisse’f dat he be dog his cats ef he don’t slorate ole Brer Rabbit ef it take ’im a mont’; en dat, too, on top er all de ’spe’unce w’at he done bin had wid um. Brer Rabbit he sorter git win’ er dis, en one day, w’iles he gwine ’long de road studyin’ how he gwineter hol’ he hand wid Brer Fox, he see a great big Hoss layin’ stretch out flat on he side in de pastur’; en he tuck’n crope up, he did, fer ter see ef dish yer Hoss done gone en die. He crope up en he crope ’roun’, en bimeby he see de Hoss switch he tail, en den Brer Rabbit know he aint dead. Wid dat, Brer Rabbit lope back ter de big road, en mos’ de fus’ man w’at he see gwine