emus, indignantly. "Now don't you scatter dem hog-bristle! De
time wuz w'en folks had a mighty slim chance fer ter git bristle, en dey
aint no tellin' w'en dat time gwine come ag'in. Let 'lone dat, de time
wuz w'en de breed er hogs wuz done run down ter one po' little pig, en
it look lak mighty sorry chance fer dem w'at was bleedzd ter have
bristle."

By this time Uncle Remus's indignation had vanished, disappearing as
suddenly and unexpectedly as it came. The little boy was curious to know
when and where and how the bristle famine occurred.

"I done tole you 'bout dat too long 'go ter talk 'bout," the old man
declared; but the little boy insisted that he had never heard about it
before, and he was so persistent that at last Uncle Remus, in
self-defence, consented to tell the story of the Pigs.

"One time, 'way back yander, de ole Sow en er chilluns wuz all livin'
'longer' de yuther creeturs. Hit seem lak ter me dat de ole Sow wuz a
widder 'oman, en ef I don't run inter no mistakes, hit look like ter me
dat she got five chilluns. Lemme see," continued Uncle Remus, with the
air of one determined to justify his memory by a reference to the
record, and enumerating with great deliberation,--"dar wuz Big Pig, en
dar wuz Little Pig, en dar wuz Speckle Pig, en dar wuz Blunt, en las' en
lonesomes' dar wuz Runt.

"One day, deze yer Pig ma she know she gwine kick de bucket, and she
tuck'n call up all 'er chilluns en tell um dat de time done come w'en
dey got ter look out fer deyse'f, en den she up'n tell um good ez she
kin, dough 'er breff mighty scant, 'bout w'at a bad man is ole Brer
Wolf. She say, sez she, dat if dey kin make der 'scape from ole Brer
Wolf, dey'll be doin' monst'us well. Big Pig 'low she aint skeer'd,
Speckle Pig 'low she aint skeer'd, Blunt, he say he mos' big a man ez
Brer Wolf hisse'f, en Runt, she des tuck'n root 'roun' in de straw en
grunt. But ole Widder Sow, she lay dar, she did, en keep on tellin' um
dat dey better keep der eye on Brer Wolf, kaz he mighty mean en 'seetful
man.

"Not long atter dat, sho' 'nuff ole Miss Sow lay down en die, en all dem
ar chilluns er hern wuz flung back on deyse'f, en dey whirl in, dey did,
en dey buil' um all a house ter live in. Big Pig, she tuck'n buil' 'er a
house outer bresh; Little Pig, she tuck'n buil' a stick house; Speckle
Pig, she tuck'n buil' a mud house; Blunt, he tuck'n buil' a plank house;
en Runt, she don't make no great ter-do, en no great brags, but s