"'Dems um. Dey may n't be ripe ez dem w'at I had fer my brekkus, but dems de w'ite muscadimes sho' ez youer bawn. Dey er red bullaces[80] en dey er black bullaces, but deze yer, dey er de w'ite bullaces.'
"Brer Fox, sezee, 'How I gwine git um?'
"Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'You'll des hatter do lak I done.'
"Brer Fox, sezee, 'How wuz dat?'
"Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'You'll hatter clam fer 'm.'
"Brer Fox, sezee, 'How I gwine clam?'
"Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'Grab wid yo' han's, clam wid yo' legs, en I'll push behime!'"
"Man—Sir!—he's a-talkin' now!" exclaimed Aunt Tempy, enthusiastically.
"Brer Fox, he clum, en Brer Rabbit, he push, twel, sho' 'nuff, Brer Fox got whar he kin grab de lowmos' lim's, en dar he wuz! He crope on up, he did, twel he come ter whar he kin retch de green scaly-bark, en den he tuck'n pull one en bite it, en, gentermens! hit uz dat rough en dat bitter twel little mo' en he'd 'a' drapt spang out'n de tree.
"He holler 'Ow!' en spit it out'n he mouf des same ez ef 't wuz rank pizen, en he make sech a face dat you would n't b'leeve it skacely less'n you seed it. Brer Rabbit, he hatter cough fer ter keep fum laughin', but he make out ter holler, sezee:—