XI 
HOW MR. ROOSTER LOST HIS DINNER 
It seemed that the rainy season had set in in earnest, but the 
little boy went down to Uncle Remus’s cabin before dark. In 
some mysterious way, it appeared to the child, the gloom of twi¬ 
light fastened itself upon the dusky clouds, and the great trees 
without, and the dismal perspective beyond, gradually became 
one with the darkness. Uncle Remus had thoughtfully placed a 
tin pan under a leak in the roof, and the drip-drip-drip of the 
water, as it fell in the resonant vessel, made a not unmusical 
accompaniment to the storm. 
The old man fumbled around under his bed, and presently 
dragged forth a large bag filled with lightwood knots, which, with 
an instinctive economy in this particular direction, he had stored 
away for an emergency. A bright but flickering flame was the 
result of this timely discovery, and the effect it produced was 
quite in keeping with all the surroundings. The rain, and wind, 
and darkness held sway without, while within, the unsteady light- 
wood blaze seemed to rhyme with the drip-drip-drip in the pan. 
Sometimes the shadow of Uncle Remus, as he leaned over the 
hearth, would tower and fill the cabin, and again it would fade and 
disappear among the swaying and swinging cobwebs that cur¬ 
tained the rafters. 
“ W’en bed-time come, honey,” said Uncle Remus, in a sooth¬ 
ing tone, “I’ll des snatch down yo’ pa buggy umbrell’ fum up dar 
in de cornder, des lak I bin a-doin’, en I ’ll take’n take you und’ 
my arm en set you down on Miss Sally h’a’th des ez dry en ez 
worn ez a rat’-nes’ inside a fodder-stack.” 
At this juncture ’Tildy, the house-girl, rushed in out of the rain 
49 
