“Po’ Li’l’ Hannibal!” said the possum, sitting up and scratching himself. “Any special place you bound for?”
“I don’t reckon so,” said Li’l’ Hannibal, for he was getting tired, and he had come away without any breakfast.
“You come along with me, Li’l’ Hannibal,” said the possum; “I reckon I kin take you somewhere.”
So the possum and Li’l’ Hannibal went along together, the possum loping along by the side of the road and Li’l’ Hannibal going very slowly in the middle of the road, for his shoes were full of sand and it hurt his toes. They went on and on until they came, all at once, to a sort of open space in the woods and then they stopped. There was a big company there—Br’er Rabbit and Br’er Partridge, and Br’er Jay Bird and Br’er Robin, and Ol’ Miss Guinea Hen.
“Here’s po’ Li’l’ Hannibal come to see you,” said the possum. “Li’l’ Hannibal done run away from his gran’mammy and gran’daddy.”
Li’l’ Hannibal hung his head as if he was ashamed, but nobody noticed him. They were all as busy as they could be, and so he just sat down on a pine stump and watched them.
Each one had his own special work and he was keeping at it right smart. Br’er Robin was gathering all the holly berries from the south side of the holly tree and singing as he worked:
“Cheer up, cheer-u-up!”
Br’er Partridge was building a new house down low in the bushes. As he hurried back and forth with twigs, he would stop and drum a little, he felt so happy to be busy.
Br’er Jay Bird was taking corn down below. You know that is what Br’er Jay Bird does all the time. He takes one kernel of corn in his bill to the people down below and then comes back for another. It is a very long trip to take with one kernel of corn, but Br’er Jay Bird doesn’t seem to mind how hard he works.