"Well, de Lord he'p my soul!"
"Dat 's de promise, Sis Tempy," said Uncle Remus, solemnly.
Aunt Tempy laughed, as she straightened herself in her chair, and said:
"I des knowed dey wuz sump'n' 'n'er gwine 'cross my min' w'en I year talk 'bout dat ar sheep by de chinkapin tree."
"Out wid it, Sis Tempy," said Uncle Remus, by way of encouragement; "out wid it; free yo' min', en des make yo'se'f welcome."
"No longer'n Sunday 'fo' las', I 'uz 'cross dar at de Spivey place un I tuck'n year'd a nigger man tellin' de same tale, un I 'low ter myse'f dat I'd take'n take it un kyar' it home un gin it out w'en I come ter pass de time wid Brer Remus un all uv um. I 'low ter myse'f I'll take it un kyar' it dar, un I'll des tell it my own way."
"Well, den," said Uncle Remus, approvingly, "me en dish yer chap, we er willin' en a-waitin', en ez fer Brer Jack over dar, we kin say de same fer him, 'kaze I up en year 'im draw mighty long breff des now lak he fixin' fer ter snort. But you neenter min' dat ole creetur, Sis Tempy. Des push right ahead."
"Ah-h-h-e-e!" exclaimed Daddy Jack, snapping his bright little eyes at Uncle Remus with some display of irritation; "you tek-a me fer be sleep ebry tam I shed-a me y-eye, you is mek fool-a you'se'f. Warrah yarrah garrah tarrah!"[71]
"Brer Remus!" said Aunt Tempy, in an awed whisper, "maybe he's a-cunju'n un you."
"No-no!" exclaimed Daddy Jack, snappishly, "me no cuncher no'n' 't all. Wun me cuncher you all you yeddy bone crack. Enty!"