“Oh the coward crowd!” cried Jamie. “There’s Brindle! I’ll teach them now!” And with headlong stride, at the captain’s side, He called for his mother’s cow.
“Who are you, and who is your mother? I promised she should not miss? Well! upon my word, have I never heard Of assurance like to this!”
“Is your word the word of a soldier?” And the young lad faced his foes, As a jeering laugh, in anger half And half in sport, arose.
But the captain drew his sabre, And spoke with lowering brow,— “Fall back into line! The joke is mine! Surrender the widow’s cow!”
And a capital joke they thought it, That a barefoot lad of ten Should demand his due—and get it too— In the face of forty men.
And the rollicking rebel raiders Forgot themselves somehow, And three cheers gave for the hero brave, And three for the brindle cow.
He lived in the Cumberland Valley, And his name was Jamie Brown; But it changed that day, so the neighbors say, To the “Bravest Boy in Town.” Emma Huntington Nason, in “Wide Awake.”
BRER RABBIT AND THE BUTTER.
“De anemules an’ de beastesses,” said Uncle Remus, shaking his coffee around in the bottom of his tin cup, in order to gather up all the sugar, “dey kep’ on gettin’ mo’ and mo’ familious wid wunner nudder, twel bimeby, ’twant long ’fo’ Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Possum got ter sorter bunchin’ der perwishions tergedder in de same house. Arter while de roof sorter ’gun ter leak, en one day Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Possum ’semble fer ter see ef dey couldn’t kinder patch her up. Dey had a big day’s wuk in front un um, en den dey fotch der dinner wid um. Dey lumped de vittles up in one pile, en de butter w’at Brer Fox brung dey goes en puts in de spring-house fer ter keep cool, en den dey wen’ ter wuk, en ’twan’t long ’fo’ Brer Rabbit’s stummuck ’gun ter sorter growl en pester ’im. Dat butter of Brer Fox’s sot heavy on his mine, en his mouf water eve’y time he ’member ’bout it. Presen’ly he say ter hisself dat he bleedzd ter have a nip at dat butter, en den he lay his plans, he did. Fus news you know, w’ile dey was all wukkin’ ’long, Brer Rabbit raise his head quick en fling his years forred en holler out,—