Ez de tale wer gun to me des dat away I
gin it unter you. One time Brer Wolf wuz comm' long home fum a
fishin' frolic. He s'anter long de road, he did, wid his string
er fish 'cross his shoulder, w'en fus' news you know ole Miss
Pa'tridge, she hop outer de bushes en flutter long right at Brer
Wolf nose. Brer Wolf he say ter hisse'f dat ole Miss Pa'tridge
tryin' fer ter toll 'im 'way fum her nes', en wid dat he lay his
fish down en put out inter de bushes whar ole Miss Pa'tridge come
fum, en 'bout dat time Brer Rabbit, he happen long. Dar wuz de
fishes, en dar wuz Brer Rabbit, en w'en dat de case w'at you
speck a sorter innerpen'ent man like Brer Rabbit gwine do? I kin
tell you dis, dat dem fishes ain't stay whar Brer Wolf put um at,
en w'en Brer Wolf come back dey wuz gone.
"Brer Wolf, he sot down en scratch his head, he did, en study
en study, en den hit sorter rush inter his mine dat Brer Rabbit
bin 'long dar, en den Brer Wolf, he put out fer Brer Rabbit
house, en w'en he git dar he hail 'im. Brer Rabbit, he dunno
nuthin' tall 'bout no fishes. Brer Wolf he up'n say he bleedzd
ter bleeve Brer Rabbit got dem fishes. Brer Rabbit 'ny it up en
down, but Brer Wolf stan' to it dat Brer Rabbit got dem fishes.
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