Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/343

 such a rate that the little boy was afraid he had company. The truth is, Uncle Remus had heard the child coming, and when the rosy-cheeked chap put his head in the door, was engaged in a monologue, the burden of which seemed to be:

As a matter of course, this vague allusion reminded the little boy of the fact that the wicked Fox was still in pursuit of the Rabbit, and he immediately put his curiosity in the shape of a question.

"Uncle Remus, did the Rabbit have to go clean away when he got loose from the Tar-baby?"

"Bless grashus, honey, dat he did n't. Who? Him? You dunno nuthin' 'tall 'bout Brer Rabbit ef dat's de way you puttin' 'em down. W'at he gwine 'way fer? He mouter stayed sorter close 'twell de pitch rub off'n his ha'r, but 'twan't menny days 'fo' he waz lopin' up en down de naberhood same ez ever, en I dunno ef he were n't mo' sassier den befo'.

"Seem like dat de tale 'bout how he got mixt up wid de Tar-baby got 'roun' mongst de nabers. Leas'ways, Miss Meadows en de gals got win' un it, en de nex' time Brer Rabbit paid um a visit, Miss Meadows tackled 'im 'bout it, en de gals sot up a monst'us gigglement. Brer Rabbit, he sot up des ez cool ez a cowcumber, he did, en let 'em run on."

"Who was Miss Meadows, Uncle Remus?" inquired the little boy.

"Don' ax me, honey. She was in de tale, en de tale I give you like hit were gun ter me. Brer Rabbit, he sot dar, he did, sorter lam'like, en den bimeby he cross his legs, he did, en wink his eye slow en up en say, sezee: