]
* * * * *
THE HIBERNIAN BRER FOX; OR, UNCLE REMUS IN IRELAND.
[Illustration: BRER "FOX."]
"Now, 'bout dat time, honey," pursued Uncle REMUS, "Brer Fox he lay
low pooty well all der time."
"Why was that?" asked the little boy.
"Dat," replied the old man, "was des w'at his frends wanted fer ter
know. But Brer Fox, he ain't sayin' nuthin'. Den dey sorter dallo
roun' waiting fo' Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox
ain't come."
"What was Brer Fox doing all this time?" asked the little boy.
"Oh, well den!" exclaimed the old man, "chilluns can't speck ter know
all 'bout eve'ything. And bless grashus, honey! some er der doin's er
Brer Fox 'bout dis yer time ain't fit fer chilluns _ter_ know. Brer
Fox, I'm feared, wuz kinder simpertin' roun' atter udder people's
prop'ty, and dat's des why he lay low, en ain't say nuthin'."
"However," pursued the old man, after a pause,--
"'De place wharbouts you spill de grease,
Right dar youer boun' ter slide.'
And bimeby Brer Fox he sorter slid up _ker-slump_, he did, on his own
slide, an' his frens dey done 'fuse m'on m'on to live naberly wid him,
see'n ez he'd done broke der laws er naberly conduc' as der beastesses
hold 'em.
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