'Bout the 'tea-party' where you're goin' at
So awful fast!" I says.

An' nen he say,--
"No use to _tell_ you 'bout it, 'cause you won't
Believe it, 'less you go there your own se'f
An' see it wiv your own two eyes!" he says.
An' _he_ says: "Ef you lemme _shore-nuff_ loose,
An' p'omise 'at you'll keep wite still, an' won't
Tetch nothin' 'at you see--an' never tell
Nobody in the world--an' lemme loose--
W'y, nen I'll _take_ you there!"

But I says, "Yes
An' ef I let you loose, you'll _run!_" I says.
An' he says "No, I won't!--I hope may die!"
Nen I says, "Cwoss your heart you won't!"

An'he
Ist cwoss his heart; an' nen I weach an' set
The little feller up on a long vine--
An' he 'uz so tickled to git loose agin,
He gwab' the vine wiv boff his little hands
An' ist take an' turn in, he did, an' skin
'Bout forty-'leven cats!

Nen when he git
Through whirlin' wound the vine, an' set on top
Of it agin, w'y nen his "woseleaf-coat"
He bwag so much about, it's ist all tored