"WELL, Uncle Remus," said the little boy, counting to see if he
hadn't lost a marble somewhere, "the Bear didn't catch the Rabbit
after all, did he?"
"Now you talkin', honey," replied the old man, his earnest face
breaking up into little eddies of smiles--"now you talkin' sho.
'Tain't bin proned inter no Brer B'ar fer ter kotch Brer Rabbit.
Hit sorter like settin' a mule fer ter trap a hummin'-bird. But
Brer B'ar, he tuck'n got hisse'f inter some mo' trubble, w'ich it
look like it mighty easy. Ef folks could make der livin' longer
gittin' inter trubble," continued the old man, looking curiously
at the little boy, "ole Miss Favers wouldn't be bodder'n yo' ma
fer ter borry a cup full er sugar eve'y now en den; en it look
like ter me dat I knows a nigger dat wouldn't be squattin' 'roun'
yer makin' dese yer fish-baskits."
"How did the Bear get into more trouble, Uncle Remus?" asked the
little boy.
"Natchul, honey. Brer B'ar, he tuck a notion dat ole Brer
Bull-frog wuz de man w'at fool 'im, en he say dat he'd come up
wid 'im ef 'twuz a year atterwuds. But 'twan't no year, an
'twan't no mont', en mo'n dat, hit wa'n't skasely a week, w'en
bimeby one day Brer B'ar wuz gwine home fum de takin' un a
bee-tree, en lo en behol's, who should he see but ole Brer
Bull-frog settin' out on de aidge er de mud-muddle fas' 'sleep!
Brer B'ar drap his axe, he did, en crope up, en retch out wid his
paw, en scoop ole Brer Bull-frog in des dis away." Here the old
man used his hand ladle-fashion, by way of illustration. "He
scoop 'im in, en dar he wuz. W'en Brer B'ar got his clampers on
'im good, he sot down en talk at 'im.
"'Howdy, Brer Bull-frog, howdy! En how yo fambly? I hope dey er
well, Brer Bull-frog, kaze dis day you got some bizness wid me
w'at'll las' you a mighty long time.'
"Brer Bull-frog, he dunner w'at ter say. He dunner w'at's up, en
he don't say nuthin'. Ole Brer B'ar he keep runnin' on:
"'You er de man w'at tuck en fool me 'bout Brer Rabbit t'er day.
You had yo' fun, Brer Bull-frog, en now I'll git mine.'
"Den Brer Bull-frog, he gin ter git skeer'd, he did, en he up'n
say:
"'W'at I bin doin', Brer B'ar? How I bin foolin' you?'
"Den Brer B'ar laff, en make like he dunno, but he keep on
talkin'.
"'Oh, no, Brer Bull-frog! You ain't de man w'at stick yo' head up
out'n de water en tell me Brer Rabbit done gone on by. Oh, no!
you ain't de man. I boun' you ain't. 'Bout dat time, you wuz at
home with yo' fambly, whar you allers is. I dunner whar you wuz,
but I knows whar you is, Brer Bull-frog, en hit's you en me fer
it. Atter de sun goes down dis day you don't fool no mo' folks
gwine 'long dis road.'
"Co'se, Brer Bull-frog dunner w'at Brer B'ar drivin' at, but he
know sump'n hatter be done, en dat mighty soon, kaze Brer B'ar
'gun to snap his jaws tergedder en foam at de mouf, en Brer
Bull-frog holler out:
"'Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! Lemme off dis time, en I won't never do so
no mo'. Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! do lemme off dis time, en I'll show
you de fattes' bee-tree in de woods.'
"Ole Brer B'ar, he chomp his toofies en foam at de mouf. Brer
Bull-frog he des up'n squall:
"'Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! I won't never do so no mo'! Oh, pray, Brer
B'ar! Lemme off dis time!'
"But ole Brer B'ar say he gwineter make way wid 'im, en den he
sot en study, ole Brer B'ar did, how he gwineter squench Brer
Bull-frog. He know he can't drown 'im, en he ain't got no fier
fer ter bu'n 'im, en he git mighty pestered. Bimeby ole Brer
Bull-frog, he sorter stop his cryin' en his boo-hooin', en he
up'n say:
"'Ef you gwineter kill me, Brer B'ar, kyar me ter dat big flat
rock out dar on de aidge er de mill-pon', whar I kin see my
fambly, en atter I see um, den you kin take you axe en sqush me.'
"Dis look so fa'r and squar' dat Brer B'ar he 'gree, en he take
ole Brer Bull-frog by wunner his behime legs, en sling his axe on
his shoulder, en off he put fer de big flat rock. When he git dar
he lay Brer Bullfrog down on de rock, en Brer Bull-frog make like
he lookin' 'roun' fer his folks. Den Brer B'ar, he draw long
breff en pick up his axe. Den he spit in his han's en draw back
en come down on de rock--pow!"
"'Did he kill the Frog, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, as
the old man paused to scoop up a thimbleful of glowing embers in
his pipe.
"'Deed, en dat he didn't, honey. 'Twix' de time w'en Brer B'ar
raise up wid his axe en w'en he come down wid it, ole Brer
Bull-frog he lipt up en dove down in de mill-pon', kerblink-
kerblunk! En w'en he riz way out in de pon' he riz a singin', en
dish yer's de song w'at he sing:
"'Ingle-go-jang, my joy, my joy-
Ingle-go-jang, my joy!
I'm right at home, my joy, my joy-
Ingle-go-jang, my joy!'"
"That's a mighty funny song," said the little boy.
"Funny now, I speck," said the old man, "but 'tweren't funny in
dem days, en 'twouldn't be funny now ef folks know'd much 'bout
de Bull-frog langwidge ez dey useter. Dat's w'at."