Remus, what became of Brother 'Possum?"

Uncle Remus smacked his lips and looked wise.

"Don't talk 'bout Brer 'Possum, honey, ef dat ar Mr. Man wuz nice folks
lak we all is, en I ain't 'spute it, he tuck'n tuck Brer 'Possum en
bobbycue 'im, en I wish I had a great big piece right now. Dat I does."

XXXIII

WHY THE GUINEA-FOWLS ARE SPECKLED

One night, while the little boy was watching Uncle Remus broil a piece
of bacon on the coals, he heard a great commotion among the
guinea-fowls. The squawking and _pot-racking_ went on at such a rate
that the geese awoke and began to scream, and finally the dogs added
their various voices to the uproar. Uncle Remus leaned back in his chair
and listened.

"I 'speck may be dat's de patter-rollers gwine by," he said, after a
while. "But you can't put no 'pen'unce in dem ar Guinny-hins, 'kaze
dey'll wake up en holler ef dey year deyse'f sno'. Dey'll fool you,
sho'."

"They are mighty funny, anyhow," said the little boy.

"Dat's it!" exclaimed Uncle Remus. "Dey looks quare, en dey does quare.
Dey ain't do lak no yuther kinder chick'n, en dey ain't look lak no
yuther kinder chick'n. Yit folks tell me," the old man went on,
reflectively, "dat dey er heap mo' kuse lookin' now dan w'at dey use'
ter be. I year tell dat dey wuz one time w'en dey wuz all blue, 'stid er
havin' all dem ar teenchy little spots on um."

"Well, how did they get to be speckled, Uncle Remus?" asked the little
boy, seeing that the old man was disposed to leave the subject and
devote his attention to his broiling bacon.

Uncle Remus did not respond at once. He turned his meat over carefully,
watched it a little while, and then adroitly transferred it to the cover
of a tin bucket, which was made to answer the purpose of a plate. Then
he searched about in the embers until he found his ash-cake, and in a
little while his supper was ready to be eaten.

"I ain't begrudgin' nobody nothin'," said Uncle Remus, measuring the
victuals with his eye; "yit I'm monst'us glad Brer Jack ain't nowhar's
'roun', 'kaze dey ain't no tellin' de gawm dat ole nigger kin eat. He
look shaky, en he look dry up, en he ain't got no toof, yit w'ence he
set hisse'f down whar dey any vittles, he des nat'ally laps hit up. En
let 'lone dat, he ull wipe he mouf en look' roun' des lak he want mo'.
Time Miss Sally see dat ole nigger eat one meal er vittles, I boun' you
he hatter go back down de country. I ain't begrudgin' Brer Jack de