“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, ain’t I tell you ’bout dat?” replied the old darkey,
chuckling slyly. “I ’clar ter grashus I ought er tole you dat, but old
man Nod wuz ridin’ on my eyeleds ’twel a leetle mo’n I’d a
dis’member’d my own name, en den on to dat here come yo
mammy hollerin’ atter you.
“W’at I tell you w’en I fus’ begin? I tole you Brer Rabbit wuz a
monstus soon creetur; leas’ways dat’s w’at I laid out fer ter tell you.
Well, den, honey, don’t you go en make no udder calkalashuns,
kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his fambly wuz at de head er de
gang w’en enny racket wuz on han’, en dar dey stayed. ‘Fo’ you
begins fer ter wipe yo’ eyes ’bout Brer Rabbit, you wait en see
whar’bouts Brer Rabbit gwineter fetch up at. But dat’s needer yer
ner dar.
“W’en 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
ain’t, but I speck I is. You been run-nin’ 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 neighberhood
ontwel you come ter b’leeve yo’se’f de boss er de whole gang. En
den youer allers some rs whar you got no bizuess,’ sez Brer Fox,
sezee. ‘Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a ’quaintance wid dish
yer Tar-Baby? En who stuck you up dar whar you iz? Nobody in de
roun’ worril. You des tuck en jam yo’se’f 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 rm
gwineter bobby-cue you dis day, sho,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.
“Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty ’umble.
“‘I don’t keer w’at you do wid me, Brer Fox,’ sezee, ‘so you don’t
fling me in dat brier-patch. Roas’ me, Brer Fox’ sezee, ‘but don’t
fling me in dat brierpatch,’ sezee.
“‘Hit’s so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee,
‘dat I speck I’ll hatter hang you,’ sezee.
“‘Hang me des ez high as you please, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee, ‘but do fer de Lord’s sake don’t fling me in dat brier-patch,’
sezee.
“‘I ain’t got no string,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee, ‘en now I speck I’ll hatter
drown you,’ sezee.
“‘Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee, ‘but do don’t fling me in dat brier-patch,’ sezee.
“‘Dey ain’t no water nigh,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee, ‘en now I speck I’ll
hatter skin you,’ sezee.
“‘Skin me, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘snatch out my
eyeballs, t’ar out my years by de roots, en cut off my legs,’ sezee,
‘but do please, Brer Fox, don’t ffing me in dat brier-patch,’ sezee.
“Co’se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch
’im 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 hang ’roun’ fer ter see w’at wuz
gwineter happen. Bimeby he hear somebody call ’im, en way up de
hill he see Brer Rabbit settin’ crosslegged 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.”
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