sezee, 'en it's a mussy unto Mr. Dog dat I wuz ticklish, kaze a
little mo' en I'd e't 'im up,' sezee. 'I don't mine fightin',
Brer Coon, no mo' dan you duz,' sezee, 'but I declar' ter grashus
ef I kin stan' ticklin'. Git me in a row whar dey ain't no
ticklin' 'lowed, en I'm your man, sezee.

"En down ter dis day"--continued Uncle Remus, watching the
smoke from his pipe curl upward over the little boy's head--"down
ter dis day, Brer Possum's bound ter s'render w'en you tech him
in de short ribs, en he'll laugh ef he knows he's gwineter be
smashed fer it."


IV. HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX

"UNCLE REMUS," said the little boy one evening, when he had
found the old man with little or nothing to do, "did the fox kill
and eat the rabbit when he caught him with the Tar-Baby?"

"Law, honey, ain't I tell you 'bout dat?" replied the old darkey,
chuckling slyly. "I 'clar ter grashus I ought er tole you dat,
but old man Nod wuz ridin' on my eyeleds 'twel a leetle mo'n I'd
a dis'member'd my own name, en den on to dat here come yo mammy
hollerin' atter you.

"W'at I tell you w'en I fus' begin? I tole you Brer Rabbit wuz a
monstus soon creetur; leas'ways dat's w'at I laid out fer ter
tell you. Well, den, honey, don't you go en make no udder
calkalashuns, kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his fambly wuz at
de head er de gang w'en enny racket wuz on han', en dar dey