NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS 
XVI 
HOW BRER FOX FAILED TO GET HIS GRAPES 
One night the little boy failed to make his appearance at the 
accustomed hour, and the next morning the intelligence that the 
child was sick went forth from the “big house.” Uncle Remus 
was told that it had been necessary during the night to call in two 
physicians. When this information was imparted to the old man, 
there was an expression upon his countenance of awe not unmixed 
with indignation. He gave vent to the latter: — 
“Dar now! Two un um! W’en dat chile rize up, ef rize up he 
do, he’ll des nat’ally be a shadder. Yer I is, gwine on eighty year, 
en I ain’t tuck none er dat ar docter truck yit, ceppin’ it’s dish 
yer flas’ er poke-root w’at ole Miss Favers fix up fer de stiffness 
in my j’ints. Dey’ll come en dey’ll go, en dey’ll po’ in der jollup 
yer, en slap on der fly-plarster dar, en sprinkle der calomy yander, 
twel bimeby dat chile won’t look like hisse’f. Dat’s w’at! En 
mo’n dat, hit’s mighty kuse unter me dat ole folks kin go ’long 
en stan’ up ter de rack en gobble up der ’lowance, en yit chilluns 
is got ter be strucken down. Ef Miss Sally’ll des tu’n dem docter 
mens loose onter me, I lay I lick up der physic twel dey go off 
’stonish’d.” 
But no appeal of this nature was made to Uncle Remus. The 
illness of the little boy was severe, but not fatal. He took his 
medicine and improved, until finally even the doctors pronounced 
him convalescent. But he was very weak, and it was a fortnight 
before he was permitted to leave his bed. He was restless, and yet 
his term of imprisonment was full of pleasure. Every night after 
supper Uncle Remus would creep softly into the back piazza, 
place his hat carefully on the floor, rap gently on the door by way 
of announcement, and so pass into the nursery. How patient 
his vigils, how tender his ministrations, only the mother of the 
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