"Me pay you fer dem shoe," said Daddy Jack, seeing the necessity of
argument, "un me tek um wey da lil 'Tildy gal bin stay. She tell me fer
come git-a dem shoe."

"Well, den, yer dey is," said Uncle Remus, sighing deeply as he handed
Daddy Jack the shoes. "Yer dey is, en youer mo' dan welcome, dat you is.
But spite er dat, dis yer quarter you flingin' 'way on um would er done
you a sight mo' good dan w'at dem shoes is."

This philosophy was altogether lost upon Daddy Jack, who took the shoes
and shuffled out with a grunt of satisfaction. He had scarcely got out
of hearing before 'Tildy pushed the door open and came in. She hesitated
a moment, and then, seeing that Uncle Remus paid no attention to her,
she sat down and picked at her fingers with an air quite in contrast to
her usual "uppishness," as Uncle Remus called it.

"Unk Remus," she said, after awhile, in a subdued tone, "is dat old
Affikin nigger bin yer atter dem ar shoes?"

"Yas, chile," replied Uncle Remus, with a long-drawn sigh, "he done bin
yer en got um en gone. Yas, honey, he done got um en gone; done come en
pay fer 'm, en got um en gone. I sez, sez I, dat I wish you all mighty
well, en he tuck'n tuck de shoes en put. Yas, chile, he done got um en
gone."

Something in Uncle Remus's sympathetic and soothing tone seemed to
exasperate 'Tildy. She dropped her hands in her lap, straightened
herself up and exclaimed:

"Yas, I'm is gwine ter marry dat ole nigger an' I don't keer who knows
it. Miss Sally say she don't keer, en t'er folks may keer ef dey wanter,
en much good der keerin' 'll do um."

'Tildy evidently expected Uncle Remus to make some characteristic
comment, for she sat and watched him with her lips firmly pressed
together and her eyelids half-closed,--an attitude of defiance
significant enough when seen, but difficult to describe. But the old man
made no response to the challenge. He seemed to be very busy. Presently
'Tildy went on:

"Somebody bleedz to take keer er dat ole nigger, en I dunner who gwine
ter do it ef I don't. Somebody bleedz ter look atter 'im. Good win' come
'long hit 'ud in about blow 'im 'way ef dey wa'n't somebody close 'roun'
fer ter take keer un 'im. Let 'lone dat, I aint gwineter have dat ole
nigger man f'ever 'n 'ternally trottin' atter me. I tell you de Lord's
trufe, Unk Remus," continued 'Tildy, growing confidential, "I aint had
no peace er min' sence dat ole nigger man come on dis place. He des bin
a-pacin'