fine doin's, seem lak he kain't
tek his eye 'way f'um de crack. Den he seed Tarr'pin comin' down de road
home, an' he 'low ter hisse'f, he did, dat dish yer de harnsumes' man
w'at he uver seed, an' he be puffickly sassified ef he cu'd look jes'
lak dat. He git mo' an' mo' enviable uv 'im an' tuck ter hangin' 'roun'
de naberhood, peekin' an' peerin' in at Tarr'pin w'enuver he git de
chanct. Las' he say ter hisse'f dat he jes' natchully 'bleeged ter have
dem fedders an' tail an' whustle, but he ain' knowin' jes' how ter git
'em, so he g'long off ter ax de he'p uv a wise ol' Wolf whar live 'way,
'way up on de mountain an' whar wuz one'r dem cunjerers I done tol' you
'bout. Ez he went 'long he wuz fixin' up a tale ter tell Wolf, an' w'en
he git ter de kyave whar de cunjerer live he knock an' Wolf 'spon',
'Come in!' in sech a deep, growly voice dat li'l Quail felt kind er
skeery, an' he feel mo' skeery yit w'en he go hoppin' in an' see Wolf
settin' dar wid bones strowed all roun' him, an' showin' dem long, white
toofs er his ev'y time he open his mouf. But he perch hisse'f up in
front er Wolf, an' he say in a voice dat wuz right trim'ly, 'Howdy,
Uncle Wolf, howdy! I done comed all de way up yer ter ax yo' he'p, 'kase
I knows dar ain' nair' nu'rr man on dis mountain whar knows half ez much
ez w'at you does. Please, suh, tell me w'at ter do.'

"'Bob White, you is a li'l ol' fool,' sez Wolf, sezee, 'how kin I tell
you w'at ter do w'en you ain' tol' me w'at 'tis you wants?'

"Den Quail he git li'l mo' pearter, an' he try ter mek Wolf feel
please', so he say, 'Laws-a-mussy! Uncle Wolf, I done fergit dat, but I
reckon I do so 'kase you is dat smart I thought you mought know widout
me tellin'.'

"'Drap dat foolishness,' sez Wolf, sezee, 'an' lemme know w'at you comed
atter.' But all de same he wan't too smart ner too ol' ter feel please'
wid de flatt'ry; show me de man whar is; lots uv 'em gits ketched by
dat, nuttin' mo' ner less," and here Aunt 'Phrony cast a scornful glance
at Nancy, who answered it by a toss of the head.

"Well, den," she resumed, "Quail start inter de meanness he bin hatchin'
up, an' he say, sezee, 'Uncle Wolf, deys a man down dar below whar
gittin' ter be dangersome. He's rich an' goodlookin', an' a gre't chieft
an' a sho'-'nuff fighter, an' he kin do 'bout w'at he please wid tu'rr
creeturs. A man lak dat boun' ter wu'k mischief. Now, suh, ef you sesso,
'pears ter me hit be mighty good notion ter tek 'way