"I 'clar' ter goodness," he exclaimed, addressing the imaginary third person to whom he related the most of his grievances, "I 'clar' ter goodness ef dat ar chile ain't gittin' so dat he's eve'y whit ez up-en-spoken ez w'at ole Miss ever bin. Dat he is!"
The old man paused long enough to give the little boy some uneasiness, and then continued:—
"Atter ole Brer Wolf git de nat'al hide tuck off'n 'im on de 'count er Brer Rabbit kittle, co'se he hatter go 'way off by hisse'f fer ter let de ha'r grow out. He 'uz gone so long dat Brer Rabbit sorter 'low ter hisse'f dat he 'speck he kin come down out'n he steeple, en sorter rack 'roun' mungs de t'er creeturs.
"He sorter primp up, Brer Rabbit did, en den he start out 'pun he journeys hether en yan.[62] He tuck'n went ter de crossroads, en dar he stop en choose 'im a road. He choose 'im a road, he did, en den he put out des lak he bin sent fer in a hurry.
"Brer Rabbit gallop on, he did, talkin' en laughin' wid hisse'f, en eve'y time he pass folks, he'd tu'n it off en make lak he singin'. He 'uz gwine on dis a-way, w'en fus' news you know he tuck'n year sump'n'. He stop talkin' en 'gun ter hum a chune, but he ain't meet nobody. Den he stop en lissen en he year sump'n' holler:—
"'O Lordy! Lordy! Won't somebody come he'p me?'"
The accent of grief and despair and suffering that Uncle Remus managed to throw into this supplication was really harrowing.
"Brer Rabbit year dis, en he stop en lissen. 'T wa'n't long 'fo' sump'n' n'er holler out:—
"'O Lordy, Lordy! Please, somebody, come en he'p me.'
"Brer Rabbit, he h'ist up he years, he did, en make answer back:—