“Mist’r Bull-finch an’ John Mockin’ Bird wus de lead’rs er de ban’ an’ I tell yer dat musick wus sumthin’ ter heah sho’ nuf.
“Cap’n Goat say dey doan want no musick playin’ at der speakin’.
“Brer Bull Frog say: ‘Nor, suhree, you git er jug-er-rum an’ put hit wit Sis’ Ginny Hen’s boys up in de gal’ry, long wid Miss Wile Lucy Goose’s chilluns, an’ you got nuf fuss fur fifty meetin’s.’
“Mist’r Tom Cat slap down on his leg an’ say, ‘Dat’s de very thing; dat ef Mist’r Race Hoss git ter th’owin’ off too much language, jes’ ter git Brer Bull Frog ter start off de Ginny chorus an’ he bet Race Hoss won’t heah his own se’f talk.’”
Willis moved closer. “Was all of ’em sittin’ together, Mammy?”
“Nor, dey wus fur nuf erpart fur bofe uv ’em ter keep der own crowd.”
“Where did Brer Mule sit?” Mary Van remembered to ask.
“And where did Uncle Bell Weth’r take the sheep?” put in Willis.
“Brer Mule had bisnes’ dat take ’im clean off’n de plantation, honey, an’ dat bisnes’ keep ’im plum tell ’lection day’s ov’r. Yas, Lawd, an’ er whole passel er yo’ pa’s frien’s went wid him ter hope ’im ten’ ter his bisnes’.”
“Did Uncle Bell Weth’r and the sheep go, too?”