"Did they talk poetry that way, Uncle Remus?" the little boy inquired.
"Shoo! lot's wuss dan dat, honey. Dey wuz constant a-gwine on dat a-way, en ef I wa'n't gittin' so mighty weak-kneed in de membunce I'd bust aloose yer en I'd fair wake you up wid de gwines on er dem ar creeturs.
"Now, den, dey tuck'n kyar Brer Wolf mammy ter town en sell 'er, en dey start back wid a waggin-load er vittles. De day wuz a-wanin' den de sun wuz a-settin'. De win' tuck'n blow up sorter stiff, en de sun look red when she settin'. Dey druv on, en druv on. De win' blow, en de sun shine red. Bimeby, Brer Wolf scrooch up en shiver, en 'low:—
"'Brer Rabbit, I'm a-gittin' mighty cole.'
"Brer Rabbit, he laugh en 'low:—
"'I'm gittin' sorter creepy myself, Brer Wolf.'
"Dey druv on en druv on. Win' blow keen, sun shine red. Brer Wolf scrooch up in little knot. Bimeby he sing out:—
"'Brer Rabbit, I'm freezin'! I'm dat cole I dunner w'at ter do!'
"Brer Rabbit, he p'int ter de settin' sun en say:—
"'You see dat great big fier 'cross dar in de woods, Brer Wolf? Well, dey ain't nothin' ter hender you fum gwine dar en wommin' yo'se'f en I'll wait yer fer you. Gimme de lines, Brer Wolf, en you go wom yo'se'f all over.'