at my heels de whole blessed time, en I bleedz ter marry 'im
fer git rid un 'im."

"Well," said Uncle Remus, "hit don't s'prize me. You marry en den youer
des lak Brer Fox wid he bag. You know w'at you put in it, but you dunner
w'at you got in it."

'Tildy flounced out without waiting for an explanation, but the mention
of Brother Fox attracted the attention of the little boy, and he wanted
to know what was in the bag, how it came to be there, and all about it.

"Now, den," said Uncle Remus, "hit 's a tale, en a mighty long tale at
dat, but I'll des hatter cut it short, 'kaze termorrer night you'll
wanter be a-settin' up lis'nen at de kyar'n's on er dem ar niggers,
w'ich I b'leeve in my soul dey done los' all de sense dey ever bin
bornded wid.

"One time Brer Fox wuz gwine on down de big road, en he look ahead en he
see ole Brer Tarrypin makin' he way on todes home. Brer Fox 'low dis a
mighty good time fer ter nab ole Brer Tarrypin, en no sooner is he thunk
it dan he put out back home, w'ich 't wa'n't but a little ways, en he
git 'im a bag. He come back, he did, en he run up behime ole Brer
Tarrypin en flip 'im in de bag en sling de bag 'cross he back en go
gallin'-up back home.

"Brer Tarrypin, he holler, but 't aint do no good, he rip en he r'ar,
but 't aint do no good. Brer Fox des keep on a-gwine, en 't wa'n't long
'fo' he had ole Brer Tarrypin slung up in de cornder in de bag, en de
bag tied un hard en fas'.

"But w'iles all dis gwine on," exclaimed Uncle Remus, employing the tone
and manner of some country preacher he had heard, "whar wuz ole Brer
Rabbit? Yasser--dats it, whar wuz he? En mo'n dat, w'at you 'speck he
'uz doin' en whar you reckon he wer' gwine? Dat 's de way ter talk it;
whar'bouts wuz he?"

The old man brought his right hand down upon his knee with a thump that
jarred the tin-plate and cups on the mantel-shelf, and then looked
around with a severe frown to see what the chairs and the work-bench,
and the walls and the rafters, had to say in response to his remarkable
argument. He sat thus in a waiting attitude a moment, and then, finding
that no response came from anything or anybody, his brow gradually
cleared, and a smile of mingled pride and satisfaction spread over his
face, as he continued in a more natural tone:

"Youk'n b'leeve me er not b'leeve des ez youer min' ter, but dat ar
long-year creetur--dat ar hoppity-skippity--dat ar up-en-down-en-
sailin'-'roun' Brer Rabbit, w'ich you b