NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS 
wid scaly-barks, but dey wa’n’t ripe, en de green hulls shined in 
de sun des lak dey ben whitewash’. Brer Fox look ’stonish’. 
Atter w’ile he up’n ’low: — 
“‘Is dem ar de w’ite muscadimes? Mighty funny I ain’t fine 
it out ’fo’ dis.’ 
“Ole Brer Rabbit, he scratch hisse’f en ’low: — 
“‘Dems um. Dey may n’t be ripe ez dem w’at I had fer my 
brekkus, but dems de w’ite muscadimes sho’ ez youer bawn. Dey 
er red bullaces 1 en dey er black bullaces, but deze yer, dey er de 
w’ite bullaces.’ 
“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How I gwine git um?’ 
“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘You’ll des hatter do lak I done.’ 
“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How wuz dat?’ 
“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘You’ll hatter clam fer’m.’ 
“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How I gwine clam?’ 
“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘Grab wid yo’ han’s, clam wid yo’ legs, 
en I’ll push behime!’” 
“Man — Sir! — he’s a-talkin’ now!” exclaimed Aunt Tempy, 
enthusiastically. 
“Brer Fox, he clum, en Brer Rabbit, he push, twel, sho’ ’nuff, 
Brer Fox got wdiar he kin grab de lowmos’ lim’s, en dar he wuz! 
He crope on up, he did, twel he come ter whar he kin retch de 
green scaly-bark, en den he tuck’n pull one en bite it, en, genter- 
mens! hit uz dat rough en dat bitter twel little mo’ en he’d ’a’ 
drapt spang out’n de tree. 
“He holler ‘ Ow /’ en spit it out’n he mouf des same ez ef ’t 
wuz rank pizen, en he make sech a face dat you would n’t b’leeve 
it skacely less’n you seed it. Brer Rabbit, he hatter cough fer ter 
keep fum laughin’, but he make out ter holler, sezee: — 
“‘Come down, Brer Fox! Dey ain’t ripe. Come down en less 
go some’rs else.’ 
“Brer Fox start down, en he git ’long mighty well twel he 
1 Another name for muscadines. 
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