"I'm gwineter larn you howter talk ter 'spectubble fokes if hit's der
las' ack," says Brer Fox, sezee. "Ef you don't take off dat hat, and
tell me howdy, I'm gwineter to bus' you wide open, sezee, ef I busses
myself at der same time," sezee.
Den Brer Rabbit he fotch up on his behime legs like he wuz 'stonished,
but he stan' on his dignitude, and he ain't sayin' nuthin!
Den Brer Fox get mighty mad. Der never wuz a madder beas' dan he wuz
des den. He rip, en he r'ar, en he cuss, en he swar, he snort, en he
cavort.
"What was he doing that for, Uncle REMUS?" the little boy inquired.
"Bress you' soul, he wuz tryin' fer tar fling Brer Rabbit off'n his
dignitude," answered the old man.
"And did he succeed?" pursued the little lad.
"Dat's all de fur de tale goes--at present," replied the old man. "How
de onfrennelness eventuated, I may tell you anudder time. But, as I
tell you, Brer Rabbit wuz a monstus soon beas'; and, when Brer Fox
look mighty biggity, atter cuttin' up mighty small, en loup roun' and
make faces at all de beastesses, en sorter rustle roun' like he wuz
gwinter bus' eberything, why den, honey, fokes is apt to look on him
as kinder splummy-splummy, atter all, en his enfloons bimeby is boun'
to be pow'ful lackin'.
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