"Rooster in de chicken coop crowin' foh day,
Horses in de stable goin' 'Nay, nay, nay!'
Ducks in de yard goin' 'Quack, quack, quack!'
Guineas in de tree tops goin' 'Rack-pot-rack!'"
DURING the two weeks since they had come to the land of sugar-cane Horatio and Bosephus had learned some of the old negro songs of Louisiana and sang them to their own music. They were doing so now as they marched along the bank of a quiet bayou, where the blue grass came to the water's edge and the long Spanish moss from big live oak trees swung down twenty feet or more till it almost touched the water. They had had a good day and were going to camp.
"Bo," said the Bear presently, "we are doing well. We are making money, Bo."
"Fifty dollars since we left the boat," said the little boy.
"These fat babies—little darky babies—are very amusing, too, Bosephus, don't you think so?" Horatio added, nodding in the direction of some they were just then passing.
"THESE LITTLE DARKEY BABIES ARE VERY—AMUSING."
"I notice that you think so," said Bo, dryly. "If you'll take my advice, though, you won't show any special fondness for them. People might not understand your ways, you know, and besides," he added, with a grin, "I've heard say these darkies down here are mighty fond of bear meat, and there's such a lot of them——"