un' in dis
neighborhood ontwel you come ter b'leeve yo'se'f de boss er de whole
gang. En den youer allers some'rs whar you got no bizness," sez Brer
Fox, sezee. "Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a'quaintance wid
dish yer Tar-Baby? En who stuck you up dar whar you is? Nobody in
de roun' worril. You des tuck en jam yo'se'f on dat Tar-Baby widout
watin' fer enny invite," sez Brer Fox, sezee, "en dar you is, en dar
you'll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze I'm
gwineter bobby-cue you dis day, sho," sez Brer Fox, sezee.

Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty 'umble.

"I don't keer w'at you do wid me, Brer Fox," sezee, "so you don't
fling me in dat brier-patch. Roas' me, Brer Fox," sezee, "but don't
fling me in dat brier-patch," sezee.

"Hit's so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier," sez Brer Fox, sezee,
"dat I speck I'll hatter hang you," sezee.

"Hang me des ez high as you please, Brer Fox," sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee, "but do fer de Lord's sake don't fling me in dat brier-patch,"
sezee.

"I ain't got no string," sez Brer Fos, sezee, "en now I speck I'll
hatter drown you," sezee.

"Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox," sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee, "but do don't fling me in dat brier-patch," sezee.

"Dey ain't no water nigh," sez Brer Fox, sezee, "en now I speck I'll
hatter skin you," sezee.

"Skin me, Brer Fox," sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, "snatch out my eyeballs,
t'ar out my years by de roots, en cut off my legs," sezee, "but do
please, Brer Fox, don't fling me in dat brier-patch," sezee.

Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch 'im
by de behime legs en slung 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch.
Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en
Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see w'at wuz gwineter happen.
Bimeby he hear somebody call 'im, en way up de hill he see Brer
Rabbit settin' cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin' de pitch outen
his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox know dat he bin swop off mighty
bad. Brer Rabbit was bleedzed fer ter fling back some er his sass,
en he holler out:

"Bred en bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox--bred en bawn in a
brier-patch!" en wid dat he skip out des ez lively ez a cricket in de
embers.

CHAPTER XXVII

PERSPECTIVE

I wish I could ever get the question of majors and minors settled to
my complete satisfaction. I thought my college course would settle
the matter for all time, but it didn't. I sus