One night Br’er Possum called for Br’er Coon, and they rambled forth to see how the others were getting along. Br’er Possum he ate his fill of fruit, and Br’er Coon he scooped up a lot of frogs and tadpoles. They ambled along, just as sociable as a basket of kittens, till by-and-by they heard Mr. Dog talking to himself off in the woods.
“S’pose he runs upon us, Br’er Possum, what you going to do?” says Br’er Coon.
Br’er Possum sort of laugh round the corners of his mouth.
“Oh, if he comes, Br’er Coon, I’m going to stand by you,” says Br’er Possum. “What are you going to do?” says he.
“Who? Me?” says Br’er Coon. “If he runs up on to me, I lay I’ll give him a twist,” says he.
Mr. Dog he came and he came. He didn’t wait to say How-d’ye-do. He just sailed into the two of them. The very first pass he made, Br’er Possum fetched a grin from ear to ear, and keeled over as if he was dead. Then Mr. Dog he sailed into Br’er Coon, but Br’er Coon was cut out for that kind of business, and he fairly wiped up the face of the earth with Mr. Dog. When Mr. Dog got a chance to make himself scarce, he took it, and what was left of him went skaddling through the woods as if it was shot out of a gun. Br’er Coon he sort of licked his clothes into shape, and racked off, and Br’er Possum he lay as if he was dead, till by-and-by he looked up, sort of careful-like, and when he found the coast clear he scrambled up and scampered off as if something was after him.
Next time Br’er Possum met Br’er Coon, Br’er Coon refused to reply to his How-d’ye-do, and this made Br’er Possum feel mighty bad, ’cause they used to make so many excursions together.
“What makes you hold your head so high?” says Br’er Possum, says he.
“I ain’t running with cowards these days,” says Br’er Coon. “When I wants you, I’ll send for you,” says he.
Then Br’er Possum got very angry. “Who’s a coward?” says he.