up 'n 'low dat he kin dance mo' samer dan w'at he kin sing. Den de
Little Gal, she ax' im won't he dance, en Brer Rabbit, he 'spon' how in
de name er goodness kin a man dance w'iles he all tie up dis a-way, en
den de Little Gal, she say she kin ontie 'im, en Brer Rabbit, he say he
ain't keerin' ef she do. Wid dat de Little Gal, she retch down en
onloose de fish-line, en Brer Rabbit, he sorter stretch hisse'f en look
'roun'."

Here Uncle Remus paused and sighed, as though he had relieved his mind
of a great burden. The little boy waited a few minutes for the old man
to resume, and finally he asked:--

"Did the Rabbit dance, Uncle Remus?"

"Who? Him?" exclaimed the old man, with a queer affectation of elation.
"Bless yo' soul, honey! Brer Rabbit gedder up his foots und' 'im, en he
dance outer dat gyardin, en he dance home. He did dat! Sho'ly you don't
'speck' dat a ole-timer w'at done had 'spe'unce like Brer Rabbit gwine
ter stay dar en let dat ar Mr. Man sackyfice 'im? _Shoo!_ Brer Rabbit
dance, but he dance home. You year me!"

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Topknot, foretop.

[2] Persuaded.

IV

BRER FOX COPIES BRER RABBIT

Uncle Remus chuckled a moment over the escape of Brother Rabbit, and
then turned his gaze upward toward the cobwebbed gloom that seemed to
lie just beyond the rafters. He sat thus silent and serious a little
while, but finally squared himself around in his chair and looked the
little boy full in the face. The old man's countenance expressed a
curious mixture of sorrow and bewilderment. Catching the child by the
coat-sleeve, Uncle Remus pulled him gently to attract his attention.

"Hit look like ter me," he said presently, in the tone of one
approaching an unpleasant subject, "dat no longer'n yistiddy I see one
er dem ar Favers chillun clim'in' dat ar big red-oak out yan', en den it
seem like dat a little chap 'bout yo' size, he tuck'n start up ter see
ef he can't play smarty like de Favers's yearlin's. I dunner w'at in de
name er goodness you wanter be a-copyin' atter dem ar Faverses fer. Ef
you er gwine ter copy atter yuther folks, copy atter dem w'at's some
'count. Yo' pa, he got de idee dat some folks is good ez yuther folks;
but Miss Sally, she know better. She know dat dey ain't no Favers 'pon
de top side er de yeth w'at kin hol' der han' wid de Abercrombies in
p'int er breedin' en raisin'. Dat w'at Miss Sally know. I bin keepin'
track er dem Faverses sence way back yan' long 'fo' Miss