Dey wuz too bigitty
fer ter look over de gyardin' palm's. 'Long 'bout den de wedder
wuz fetchin' de nat'al sperrits er turkentime outen de pine-trees
an' de groun' wuz fa'rly smokin' wid de hotness. Now that it's
gittin' sorter airish in de mornin's, dey don't 'pear like de
same niggers. Dey done got so dey'll look over in de yard, an'
nex' news you know dey'll be tryin' fer ter scrape up 'quaintence
wid de dog. W'en dey passes now dey looks at de chicken-coop an'
at der tater-patch. W'en you see niggers gittin' dat familious,
you kin 'pen' on dere campin' wid you de ballunce er de season.
Day 'fo' yistiddy I kotch one un um lookin' over de fence at my
shoats, an' I sez, sez I:
"'Duz you wanter purchis dem hogs?'
"'Oh, no,' sezee, 'I wuz des lookin' at dere p'ints.'
"'Well, dey ain't p'intin' yo' way, sez I, 'an', fuddermo', ef
you don't bodder longer dem hogs dey ain't gwineter clime outer
dat pen an' 'tack you, nudder,'" sez I.
"An' I boun'," continued Uncle Remus, driving the corn-cob
stopper a little tighter in his deceitful jug and gathering up
his bag--"an' I boun' dat my ole muskit 'll go off 'tween me an'
dat same nigger yit, an' he'll be at de bad een', an' dis seetful
jug'll 'fuse ter go ter de funer'l.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216