"Now, 'bout dat time, honey," pursued Uncle REMUS, "Brer Fox he lay low pooty well all der time."
"Why was that?" asked the little boy.
"Dat," replied the old man, "was des w'at his frends wanted fer ter know. But Brer Fox, he ain't sayin' nuthin'. Den dey sorter dallo roun' waiting fo' Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox ain't come."
"What was Brer Fox doing all this time?" asked the little boy.
"Oh, well den!" exclaimed the old man, "chilluns can't speck ter know all 'bout eve'ything. And bless grashus, honey! some er der doin's er Brer Fox 'bout dis yer time ain't fit fer chilluns ter know. Brer Fox, I'm feared, wuz kinder simpertin' roun' atter udder people's prop'ty, and dat's des why he lay low, en ain't say nuthin'."
"However," pursued the old man, after a pause,—
"'De place wharbouts you spill de grease,
Right dar youer boun' ter slide.'
And bimeby Brer Fox he sorter slid up ker-slump, he did, on his own slide, an' his frens dey done 'fuse m'on m'on to live naberly wid him, see'n ez he'd done broke der laws er naberly conduc' as der beastesses hold 'em. En Brer Rabbit—Ole Man Rabbit, as dey call him—he up en he sez, sezee, I ain't gwineter 'sociate long er no Brer Foxes no mo', he sez; 'taint 'spectubble, he sez. An' nex time Brer Rabbit met Brer Fox, Brer Rabbit 'fuse ter 'spon ter his howdy, and dis make Brer Fox feel mighty bad, seein' ez how dey useter make so many scurshuns togedder.
"Hol' on dar, Brer Rabbit!" sez Brer Fox, sezee.