MR. LION HUNTS FOR MR. MAN 
winders, en den he got ter bed, he did, en pull de coverled up 
’roun’ he years, en he sleep like a man w’at ain’t owe nobody 
nuthin’; en needer do he owe um, kaze ef dem yuther creeturs 
gwine git skeer’d en run off fum der own house, w’at bizness is 
dat er Brer Rabbit? Dat w’at I like ter know.” 
VII 
MR. LION HUNTS FOR MR. MAN 
Uncle Remus sighed heavily as he lifted the trivet on the head 
of his walking-cane, and hung it carefully by the side of the 
griddle in the cavernous fireplace. 
“Folks kin come ’long wid der watchermaycollums,” he said 
presently, turning to the little boy, who was supplementing his 
supper by biting off a chew of shoemaker’s-wax, “en likewise dey 
kin fetch ’roun’ der watziznames. Dey kin walk biggity, en dey 
kin talk biggity, en mo’n dat, dey kin feel biggity, but yit all de 
same deyer gwine ter git kotch up wid. Dey go ’long en dey go 
’long, en den bimeby yer come trouble en snatch um slonchways, 
en de mo’ bigger w’at dey is, de wusser does dey git snatched.” 
The little boy did n’t understand this harangue at all, but 
he appreciated it because he recognized it as the prelude to a 
story. 
“Dar wuz Mr. Lion,” Uncle Remus went on; “he tuck’n sot 
hisse’f up fer ter be de boss er all de yuther creeturs, en he feel 
so biggity dat he go ro’in’ en rampin’ ’roun’ de neighborhoods 
wuss’n dat ar speckle bull w’at you see down at yo’ Unk’ Jeems 
Abercrombie place las’ year. He went ro’in’ ’roun’, he did, en 
eve’ywhar he go he year talk er Mr. Man. Right in de middle er 
he braggin’, some un ’ud up’n tell ’im ’bout w’at Mr. Man done 
done. Mr. Lion, he say he done dis, en den he year ’bout how Mr. 
Man done dat. Hit went on dis a-way twel bimeby Mr. Lion 
27 
