ide, looked out upon the scene,--a tumult lit up by torches of resinous
pine. The old man and the child were recognized, and for a few moments
the air was filled with cries of:

"Howdy, Unk Remus! Howdy, little Marster!"

After a while Uncle Remus closed his door, laid away his tools, and
drew his chair in front of the wide hearth. The child went and stood
beside him, leaning his head against the old negro's shoulder, and the
two--old age and youth, one living in the Past and the other looking
forward only to the Future--gazed into the bed of glowing embers
illuminated by a thin, flickering flame. Probably they saw nothing
there, each being busy with his own simple thoughts; but their shadows,
enlarged out of all proportion, and looking over their shoulders from
the wall behind them, must have seen something, for, clinging together,
they kept up a most incessant pantomime; and Plato's horn, which sounded
again to call the negroes to supper after their journey, though it
aroused Uncle Remus and the child from the contemplation of the fire,
had no perceptible effect upon the Shadows.

"Dar go de vittles!" said Uncle Remus, straightening himself. "Dey tells
me dat dem ar niggers on de River place got appetite same ez a mule. Let
'lone de vittles w'at dey gits from Mars John, dey eats oodles en oodles
er fish. Ole man Plato say dat de nigger on de River place w'at aint
got a fish-baskit in de river er some intruss[85] in a fish-trap aint no
'count w'atsomever."

Here Uncle Remus suddenly slapped himself upon the leg, and laughed
uproariously; and when the little boy asked him what the matter was, he
cried out:

"Well, sir! Ef I aint de fergittenest ole nigger twix' dis en
Phillimerdelphy! Yer 't is mos' Chris'mus en I aint tell you 'bout how
Brer Rabbit do Brer Fox w'ence dey bofe un um live on de river. I dunner
w'at de name er sense gittin' de marter 'long wid me."

Of course the little boy wanted to know all about it, and Uncle Remus
proceeded:

"One time Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit live de on river. Atter dey bin livin'
dar so long a time, Brer Fox 'low dat he got a mighty hankerin' atter
sump'n' 'sides fresh meat, en he say he b'leeve he make 'im a fish-trap.
Brer Rabbit say he wish Brer Fox mighty well, but he aint honin' atter
fish hisse'f, en ef he is he aint got no time fer ter make no
fish-trap.

"No marter fer dat, Brer Fox, he tuck'n got 'im out some timber, he did,
en he wuk nights fer ter make dat trap.