“En den, mos’ ’fo’ Brer Rabbit kin wink he eye, a door w’at wuz in de tree flew’d open, en Mr. Black Snake tuck ’n crawl in. Brer Rabbit ’low, he did:
“‘Ah-yi! Dar whar you stay! Dar whar you keeps yo’ simmon beer! Dar whar you hides yo’ backbone en spar’ ribs. Ah-yi!’
“W’en Mr. Black Snake went in de house, Brer Rabbit crope up, he did, en lissen fer ter see w’at he kin year gwine on in dar. But he ain’t year nothin’. Bimeby, w’iles he settin’ ’roun’ dar, he year de same song:
“‘Watsilla, watsilla,
Consario, wo!
Watsilla, watsilla,
Consario wo!’
“En mos’ ’fo’ Brer Rabbit kin hide in de weeds, de door hit flew’d open, en out Mr. Black Snake slid. He slid out, he did, en slid off, en atter he git out er sight, Brer Rabbit, he tuck ’n went back ter de poplar-tree fer ter see ef he kin git in dar. He hunt ’roun’ en he hunt ’roun’, en yit ain’t fin’ no door. Den he sat up on he behin’ legs, ole Brer Rabbit did, en low:
“‘Hey! w’at kinder contrapshun dish yer? I seed a door dar des now, but dey ain’t no door dar now.’
“Ole Brer Rabbit scratch he head, he did, en bimeby hit come inter he min’ dat maybe de song got sump’n ’n’er ter do wid it, en wid dat he chuned up, he did, en sing: