NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS 
little boy jumped again. This seemed to amuse Uncle Remus, and 
he laughed until he was near to choking himself with his smoking 
hoe-cake. 
“You does des ’zackly lak ole Brer Rabbit done, I ’clar’ to 
gracious ef you don’t!” the old man cried, as soon as he could get 
his breath; “dez zackly fer de worl\” 
The child was immensely flattered, and at once he wanted to 
know how Brother Rabbit did. Uncle Remus was in such good 
humor that he needed no coaxing. He pushed his spectacles back 
on his forehead, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and began: — 
“Hit come ’bout dat soon one mawnin’ todes de fall er de year, 
Brer Rabbit wuz stirrin’ ’roun’ in de woods atter some bergamot 
fer ter make ’im some h’ar-grease. De win’ blow so col’ dat it 
make ’im feel right frisky, en eve’y time he year de bushes rattle 
he make lak he skeerd. He ’uz gwine on dis a-way, hoppity- 
skippity, w’en bimeby he year Mr. Man cuttin’ on a tree way off 
in de woods. He fotch up, Brer Rabbit did, en lissen fus’ wid one 
year en den wid de yuther. 
“Man, he cut en cut, en Brer Rabbit, he lissen en lissen. 
Bimeby, w’iles all dis was gwine on, down come de tree — 
kubber-lang-bang-blam! Brer Rabbit, he tuck’n jump des lak you 
jump, en let ’lone dat, he make a break, he did, en he lipt out fum 
dar lak de dogs wuz atter ’im.” 
“Was he scared, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy. 
“Skeerd! Who? Him? Shoo! don’t you fret yo’se’f ’bout Brer 
Rabbit, honey. In dem days dey wa’n’t nothin’ gwine dat kin 
skeer Brer Rabbit. Tooby sho’, he tuck keer hisse’f, en ef you 
know de man w’at ’fuse ter take keer hisse’f, I lak mighty well ef 
you p’int ’im out. Deed’n dat I would!” 
Uncle Remus seemed to boil over with argumentative indigna¬ 
tion. 
“Well, den,” he continued, “Brer Rabbit run twel he git sorter 
het up like, en des ’bout de time he makin’ ready fer ter squot en 
90 
