"Bless you, Brer Remus! I des bin a-settin' yer l'arnin'. 'Sides dat, Chris'mus ain't fur off en I 'speck we er all a-feelin' a sight mo' humorsome dan common."
"Dat's so, Sis Tempy. I 'uz comin' thoo de lot des 'fo' supper, en I seed de pigs runnin' en playin' in de win', en I 'low ter myse'f, sez I, 'Sholy dey's a-gwine ter be a harrycane,' en den all at once hit come in my min' dat Chris'mus mighty close at han', en den on ter dat yer come de chickens a-crowin' des now en 't ain't nine er'clock. I dunner how de creeturs know Chris'mus comin', but dat des de way it stan's."
The little boy thought it was time enough to think about Christmas when the night came for hanging up his stockings, and he asked Uncle Remus if it was n't his turn to tell a story. The old man laid down the piece of glass with which he had been scraping the cow's horn, and hunted around among his tools for a piece of sandpaper before he replied. But his reply was sufficient. He said:—
"One time w'iles Brer Rabbit wuz gwine thoo de woods he tuck'n strak up wid ole Brer Fox, en Brer Fox 'low, he did, dat he mighty hongry. Brer Rabbit 'low dat he ain't feelin' dat a-way hisse'f, 'kaze he des bin en had er bait er w'ite muscadimes, en den he tuck'n smack he mouf en lick he chops right front er Brer Fox. Brer Fox, he ax, sezee:—
"'Brer Rabbit, whar de name er goodness is deze yer w'ite muscadimes, en how come I'm ain't never run 'crosst um?' sezee.
"'I dunner w'at de reason you ain't never come up wid um,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; 'some folks sees straight, some sees crooked, some sees one thing, some sees 'n'er. I done seed dem ar w'ite muscadimes, en let 'lone dat, I done wipe um up. I done e't all dey wuz on one tree, but I lay dey's lots mo' un um 'roun' in dem neighborhoods,' sezee.
"Ole Brer Fox mouf 'gun to water, en he git mighty restless.
"'Come on, Brer Rabbit; come on! Come show me whar dem ar w'ite muscadimes grows at,' sezee.
"Brer Rabbit, he sorter hang back. Brer Fox, he 'low:—
"'Come on, Brer Rabbit, come on!'