STILL FISHING. 189 



her deff o* dampness sum day, you heah me an' she watches 

 him sling dem fedder-flies, an' claps her han's an' laffs, an' 

 sez : ' Good boy ; bravo, Dick !' 



"An' wen de Bass is tucker'd out Mars' Dick shuv a little 

 roun' net under him, an' raps him on de hed, an' totes him 

 ashore ; an' den him an' Mis' Alice sot dar an' look at it, 

 an' yo' papa smokes his pipe, an' he tell Mis' Alice 'bout 

 de fish jis' like I use' to talk to him when he was a little 

 lam' like yo' ownself ; an' dey spoon jis' as foolish as To' 

 dey was marri'd. 



"An' Mis' Alice she meks de fedder flies fer Mars' Dick, 

 now she nebber did cotton to wums, an' craw-fish, an' 

 crawl-debbils an' she nebber cries now when de Bass snaps 

 'em. But, honey, he can't fool de chan'1-cat wid 'em ; no, 

 my young marstah, Mistah chan'1-cat is too wise in dis 

 generation ob vipers fer dat. He wants a fat soft craw, or 

 a piece of fresh libber. Gib him vict'ry or gib him deff. 



" Cum, honey, we dun got a good mess o' pan-fish, less 

 be gwine home ; Mistah Crow dun, lite out fo' his roost 

 long time ago." 



