"De ins en de outs er dat kinder talk all come ter de same p'int in my
min'. Youer bin a-cuttin' up at de table, en Mars John, he tuck'n sont
you 'way fum dar, en w'iles he think youer off some'er a-snifflin' en
a-feelin' bad, yer you is a-high-primin' 'roun' des lak you done had mo'
supper dan de King er Philanders."

Before the little boy could inquire about the King of Philanders he
heard his father calling him. He started to go out, but Uncle Remus
motioned him back.

"Des set right whar you is, honey--des set right still."

Then Uncle Remus went to the door and answered for the child; and a very
queer answer it was--one that could be heard half over the plantation:

"Mars John, I wish you en Miss Sally be so good ez ter let dat chile
'lone. He down yer cryin' he eyes out, en he ain't boddern' 'long er
nobody in de roun' worl'."

Uncle Remus stood in the door a moment to see what the reply would be,
but he heard none. Thereupon he continued, in the same loud tone:

"I ain't bin use ter no sich gwines on in Ole Miss time, en I ain't
gwine git use ter it now. Dat I ain't."

Presently 'Tildy, the house-girl, brought the little boy his supper, and
the girl was no sooner out of hearing than the child swapped it with
Uncle Remus for a roasted yam, and the enjoyment of both seemed to be
complete.