NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS 
foot, and I watched him and watched him, and he kept on 
standing there.” 
“Ez ter dat,” responded Uncle Remus, “dey mought stan’ on 
one foot en drap off ter sleep en fergit deyse’f. Deze yer gooses,” 
he continued, wiping the crumbs from his beard with his coat-tail, 
“is mighty kuse fowls; deyer mighty kuse. In ole times dey 
wuz ’mongs de big-bugs, en in dem days, w’en ole Miss Goose 
gun a-dinin’, all de quality wuz dere. Likewise, en needer wuz 
dey stuck-up, kase wid all der kyar’n’s on, Miss Goose wer’n’t too 
proud fer ter take in washin’ fer de neighborhoods, en she make 
money, en get slick en fat lak Sis Tempy. 
“Dis de way marters stan’ w’en one day Brer Fox en Brer Rab¬ 
bit, dey wuz settin’ up at de cotton-patch, one on one side de 
fence, en t’er one on t’er side, gwine on wid one er n’er, w’en 
fus’ news dey know, dey year sump’n — blim, blim , blim! 
“Brer Fox, he ax w’at dat fuss is, en Brer Rabbit, he up’n 
’spon’ dat it’s ole Miss Goose down at de spring. Den Brer Fox, 
he up’n ax w’at she doin’, en Brer Rabbit, he say, sezee, dat she 
battlin’ cloze.” 
“Battling clothes, Uncle Remus?” said the little boy. 
“Dat w’at dey call it dem days, honey. Deze times, dey rubs 
cloze on deze yer bodes w’at got furrers in um, but dem days 
dey des tuck’n tuck de cloze en lay um out on a bench, en ketch 
holt er de battlin’-stick en natally paddle de fillin’ outen um. 
“W’en Brer Fox year dat ole Miss Goose wuz down dar 
dabblin’ in soapsuds en washin’ cloze, he sorter lick he chops, en 
’low dat some er dese odd-come-shorts he gwine ter call en pay 
he ’specks. De minnit he say dat, Brer Rabbit, he know sump’n’ 
’uz up, en he ’low ter hisse’f dat he ’speck he better whirl in en 
have some fun w’iles it gwine on. Bimeby Brer Fox up’n say ter 
Brer Rabbit dat he bleedzd ter be movin’ ’long todes home, en 
wid dat dey bofe say good-bye. 
“Brer Fox, he put out ter whar his fambly wuz, but Brer 
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