“Well, de goodness en de gracious! dat put me in min’ er de time w’en ole Brer Rabbit make a bet wid Brer Fox.”
“How was that, Uncle Remus?” the child inquired.
“Ef I ain’t make no mistakes,” responded Uncle Remus, with the air of one who was willing to sacrifice everything to accuracy, “ole Brer Rabbit bet Brer Fox dat he kin go de highest up in de elements, en not clam no holler tree nudder. Brer Fox, he tuck ’im up, en dey ’pinted de day fer de trial ter come off.
“W’iles dey wuz makin’ all der ’rangerments, Brer Fox year talk dat Brer Rabbit have done gone en hire Brer Buzzard fer ter tote ’im ’way ’bove de tops er de trees. Soon’s he year dis, Brer Fox went ter Brer Buzzard, he did, en tole ’im dat he gin ’im a pot er gol’ ef he’d whirl in en kyar Brer Rabbit clean out ’n de county. Brer Buzzard ’low dat he wuz de ve’y man fer ter do dat kind er bizness.
“So den w’en de time come fer de trial, Brer Fox, he wuz dar, en Brer Rabbit, he wuz dar, en Brer Buzzard, he wuz dar, en lots er de yuther creeturs. Dey flung cross en piles fer ter see w’ich gwine ter start fus’, en it fell ter Brer Fox. He look ’roun’, old Brer Fox did, en wink at Brer Buzzard, an Brer Buzzard, he wink back good ez he kin. Wid dat, Brer Fox tuck a runnin’ start en clam a leanin’ tree. Brer Rabbit say dat better dan he ’spected Brer Fox kin do, but he ’low he gwine ter beat dat. Den he tuck ’n jump on Brer Buzzard back, en Brer Buzzard riz en sail off wid ’im. Brer Fox laugh w’en he see dis, en ’low, sezee:
“‘Folks, ef you all got any intruss in ole Brer Rabbit, you des better tell ’im good-by, kaze you won’t see ’im no mo’ in dese diggin’s.’
“Dis make all de yuther creeturs feel mighty good, kaze in dem days ole Brer Rabbit wuz a tarrifier, dat he wuz. But dey all sot dar, dey did, en keep der eye on Brer Buzzard, w’ich he keep on gittin’ higher en higher, en littler en littler. Dey look en dey look, en bimeby dey sorter see Brer Buzzard flop fus’ one wing, en den de yuther. He keep on floppin’ dis away, en eve’y time he flop, he git nigher en nigher de groun’. He flop en fall, en flop en fall, en circle ’roun’, en bimeby he come close ter de place whar he start fum, en him en Brer Rabbit come down ker-flip! En Brer Rabbit ain’t no sooner hit de groun’ dan he rush off in de bushes, en sot dar fer ter see w’at gwine ter happen nex’.”
“But, Uncle Remus,” said the little boy, “why didn’t Brother Buzzard carry Brother Rabbit off, and get the pot of gold?”
“Bless yo’ soul, honey, dey wuz some mighty good reasons in de way! W’en ole Brer Buzzard got ’way up in de elements, he ’low, he did:
“‘We er gwine on a mighty long journey, Brer Rabbit.’