ld man's wrath had
somewhat subsided, "why do they call them Jim Crow cards?"

"I be bless ef I know, honey, 'ceppin' it's kaze dey er de onliest
machine w'at deze yer low-life niggers kin oncomb der kinks wid. Now,
den," continued the old man, straightening up and speaking with
considerable animation, "dat 'min's me 'bout a riddle w'at been runnin'
'roun' in my head. En dat riddle--it's de outdoin'es' riddle w'at I mos'
ever year tell un. Hit go lak dis: Ef he come, he don't come; ef he
don't come, he come. Now, I boun' you can't tell w'at is dat."

After some time spent in vain guessing, the little boy confessed that he
did n't know.

"Hit's crow en co'n," said Uncle Remus sententiously.

"Crow and corn, Uncle Remus?"

"Co'se, honey. Crow come, de co'n don't come; crow don't come, den de
co'n come."

"Dat's so," said 'Tildy. "I done see um pull up co'n, en I done see co'n
grow w'at dey don't pull up."

If 'Tildy thought to propitiate Uncle Remus, she was mistaken. He
scowled at her, and addressed himself to the little boy:--

"De Crow, he mighty close kin ter de Buzzud, en dat puts me in min' dat
we ain't bin a-keepin' up wid ole Brer Buzzud close ez we might er done.

"W'at de case mout be deze days, I ain't a-sayin', but, in dem times,
ole Brer Tarrypin love honey mo' samer dan Brer B'ar, but he wuz dat
flat-footed dat, w'en he fine a bee-tree, he can't climb it, en he go so
slow dat he can't hardly fine um. Bimeby, one day, w'en he gwine 'long
down de road des a-honin' atter honey, who should he meet but ole Brer
Buzzud.

"Dey shuck han's mighty sociable en ax 'bout de news er de
neighborhoods, en den, atter w'ile, Brer Tarrypin say ter ole Brer
Buzzud, sezee, dat he wanter go inter cahoots wid 'im 'longer gittin'
honey, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' dey struck a trade. Brer Buzzud wuz ter
fly 'roun' en look fer de bee-tree, en Brer Tarrypin he wuz ter creep en
crawl, en hunt on de groun'.

"Dey start out, dey did, ole Brer Buzzud sailin' 'roun' in de elements,
en ole Brer Tarrypin shufflin' en shamblin' on de groun'. 'Mos' de ve'y
fus' fiel' w'at he come ter, Brer Tarrypin strak up wid a great big
bumbly-bee nes' in de groun'. He look 'roun', ole Brer Tarrypin did, en
bimeby he stick he head in en tas'e de honey, en den he pull it out en
look all 'roun' fer ter see ef he kin ketch a glimpse er Brer Buzzud;
but Brer Buzzud don't seem lak he nowhar. Den Brer Tarrypin say to
hisse'f, sezee, dat he 'speck dat b