But, bless grashus! sech a
racket wuz a gwine on dat nobody ain't hear it, 'ceppin' maybe de
Mud Turkle en de Spring Lizzud, en dere enfloons wuz pow'ful
lackin'.
"Bimeby, w'iles de Nunicorn wuz 'sputin' wid de Lion, en w'ile de
Hyener wuz a laughin' ter hisse'f, de Elephant squshed anudder
one er de Crawfishes, en a little mo'n he'd er ruint de Mud
Turkle. Den de Crawfishes, w'at dey wuz lef' un um, swarmed
tergedder en draw'd up anudder peramble wid sum mo' wharfo'es;
but dey might ez well er sung Ole Dan Tucker ter a harrycane. De
udder creeturs wuz too busy wid der fussin' fer ter 'spon' unto
de Crawfishes. So dar dey wuz, de Crawfishes, en dey didn't know
w'at minnit wuz gwineter be de nex'; en dey kep' on gittin madder
en madder en skeerder en skeerder, twel bimeby dey gun de wink
ter de Mud Turkle en de Spring Lizzud, en den dey bo'd little
holes in de groun' en went down outer sight."
"Who did, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy.
"De Crawfishes, honey. Dey bo'd inter de groun' en kep' on bo'in
twel dey onloost de fountains er de yeth; en de waters squirt
out, en riz higher en higher twel de hills wuz kivvered, en de
creeturs wuz all drownded; en all bekaze dey let on 'mong
deyselves dat dey wuz bigger dan de Crawfishes.
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