"Oh, I'm a waitin' on a culled gemmun fum Savannah—wunner deze yer high livers you bin tellin' 'bout."
"How dat?"
"I loant 'im two dollars," responded Uncle Remus, grimly, "an' I'm a waitin' on 'im fer de money. Hit's wunner deze yer jobs w'at las's a long time."
The Savannah negro went off after his rice-birds, while Uncle Remus leaned up against the wall and laughed until he was in imminent danger of falling down from sheer exhaustion.
*1 Underneath. *2 Mouthful.
IV. TURNIP SALAD AS A TEXT
As Uncle Remus was going down the street recently he was accosted by several acquaintances.
"Heyo!" said one, "here comes Uncle Remus. He look like he gwine fer ter set up a bo'din-house."