“She’s a lady,” Uncle Remus explained, “an’ dat’s diffunt. She been brung up in ’Lantamatantarum, an’ I speck she’d fall down an’ faint ef she wuz ter see one. Folks ain’t like dey use ter be; in my day an’ time, ef man er boy wuz ter say dat he ain’t never seed no cricket, dem what he tol’ de news ter would git up an’ go ’way fum ’im; but deze days I boun’ you dey’d huddle up close ’roun’ ’im, an’ j’ine in wid ’im, an’ say dey ain’t never is seed one nudder.”
“If you had never seen one, you wouldn’t talk that way, Uncle Remus,” remarked the little boy quite seriously. “How can I help myself, if I have never seen one? It isn’t my fault, is it?”
“Tooby sho’ it ain’t, honey. Nobody ain’t blamin’ you. Yit when I see a great big boy what ain’t never seed no cricket, I bleeze ter ax myse’f whar he come fum an’ what he been doin’. I boun’ ef you’d ’a’ been wid yo’ gran’mammy an me you’d ’a’ seed crickets twel you got tired er seein’ um. Dat’s de kinder folks we-all is. ’Tain’t no trouble ter we-all ter show chillun what dey oughter see. I bet you, you’ pa know’d what a cricket wuz long ’fo’ he wuz ol’ ez you is. Dey wa’n’t nothin’ fer ter hender ’im. Miss Sally des turned ’im over ter me, an’ say, ‘Don’t let ’im git hurted,’ an’ dar he wuz. Ef he ain’t seed all dey wuz ter be seed, it ’uz kaze it ’uz in a show, an’ de show in town whar he can’t git at it. Dat’s de way we done wid him, an’ dat’s de way I’d like ter do wid you. It’s a mighty pity you wa’n’t brung up here at home, stidder up dar in ’Lantamatantarum, whar dey ain’t nothin’ ’tall but dust, an’ mud, an’ money. De folks up dar ain’t want de mud an’ dust, an’ de mo’ dey wash it off de mo’ dey gits on um; but dey does want de money, an’ de mo’ dey scuffles fer it, de mo’ dey has ter scuffle.”
“Is a cricket like a grasshopper, Uncle Remus?” inquired the little boy, who took no interest in the old man’s prejudice against Atlanta.
“Dey mos’ly is, an’ den ag’in dey mos’ly ain’t. Befo’ de time dat ol’ Grandaddy Cricket kick down de chimbley, dey wa’n’t no mo’ like grasshoppers dan I’m like a steer, but atter dat, when he git his knees on wrongsudouterds, dey sorter look like grasshoppers ’cepin’ when you look at um right close, an’ den dey don’t look like um.
“Dey got lots mo’ sense dan de yuther crawlin’ an’ hoppin’ creeturs. Dey ought not ter be put wid de hoppin’ creeturs, kaze dey don’t b’long wid ’um, an’ dey wouldn’t be a-hoppin’ in deze days ef ol’ Grandaddy Cricket hadn’t ’a’ got cripple’ when he kick de chimbley down. In de times when ol’ Boss Elephant, an’ Brer Lion, an’ Brer Tiger wuz meanderin’ roun’ in deze parts, little Mr. Cricket wuz on mighty good terms wid um. Ez dey say er folks, he stood mighty well whar dey know’d ’im—mighty well—an’ he wuz ’bout de sharpes’ er de whole caboodle, ef you’ll leave out de name er Brer Rabbit.
“It come ’bout one time dat de creeturs wuz all sunnin’ deyse’f—it mought er been Sunday fer all I know—an’ dey des stretch out an’ sot an’ sot roun’ lickin’ der chops, an’ blinkin’ der eyes, an’ combin’ der ha’r. Mr. Elephant wuz swingin’ hisse’f backerds an’ forerds, an’ flingin’ de san’ on his back fer ter keep off de flies, an’ all de res’ wuz gwine on ’cordin’ ter der breed an’ need.
“Ef you’ll watch right close, honey, you’ll fin’ out fer yo’se’f dat when folks ain’t got much ter do, an’ little er nothin’ fer ter talk ’bout, dey’ll soon git ter braggin’, an’ dat’s des de way wid de creeturs. Brer Fox start it up; he say, ‘Gents, ’fo’ I fergit it off ’n my min’, I wanter tell you dat I’m de swiffes’ one in dis bunch.’ Mr. Elephant wink one er his little eyeballs, an’ fling his snout in de a’r an’ whispered—an’ you mought ’a’ hearn dat whisper a mile—‘I’m de strenkiest; I wanter call yo’ ’tention ter dat.’ Mr. Lion shuck his mane an’ showed his tushes. He say, ‘Don’t fergit dat I’m de King er all de creetur tribe.’ Mr. Tiger stretched hisse’f an’ gap’d. He say, ‘I’m de purtiest an’ de mos’ servigrous.’
“Fum one ter de yuther de braggin’ went roun’. Ef ’twant dis it uz dat, an’ ef ’twant dat, ’twuz de yuther. Dey went on so twel bimeby little Mr. Cricket chirped up an’ say he kin make all un um run dey heads off, fum ol’ Mr. Elephant down ter de las’ one. Dey all laugh like it’s a good joke, an’ Brer Fox he ’low dat he had de idee dat dey wuz all doin’ some monstus tall braggin’, but Mr. Cricket wuz away ahead er de whole gang, an’ den he say, ‘How you gwineter begin fer ter commence fer ter do all deze great deeds an’ didoes?’ Mr. Cricket say, ‘Des gi’ me time; gi’ me time, an’ yo’ll all hear fum me—yo’ll hear, but you won’t stop fer ter lis’n’, an’ den he work his jaws fer all de worl’ like Brer Rabbit does when he’s chawin’ terbacker.