n n'er
time we'll be in better luck,' sezee. 'I hear talk dat de Moon'll bite
at a hook ef you take fools fer baits, en I lay dat 's de onliest way fer
ter ketch 'er,' sezee.

"Brer Fox en Brer Wolf en Brer B'ar went drippin' off, en Brer Rabbit en
Brer Tarrypin, dey went home wid de gals."

XX

BROTHER RABBIT TAKES SOME EXERCISE

One night while the little boy was sitting in Uncle Remus's cabin,
waiting for the old man to finish his hoe-cake, and refresh his memory
as to the further adventures of Brother Rabbit, his friends and his
enemies, something dropped upon the top of the house with a noise like
the crack of a pistol. The little boy jumped, but Uncle Remus looked up
and exclaimed, "Ah-yi!" in a tone of triumph.

"What was that, Uncle Remus?" the child asked, after waiting a moment to
see what else would happen.

"News fum Jack Fros', honey. W'en dat hick'y-nut tree out dar year 'im
comin' she 'gins ter drap w'at she got. I mighty glad," he continued,
scraping the burnt crust from his hoe-cake with an old case-knife, "I
mighty glad hick'y-nuts aint big en heavy ez grinestones."

He waited a moment to see what effect this queer statement would have on
the child.

"Yasser, I mighty glad--dat I is. 'Kaze ef hick'y-nuts 'uz big ez
grinestones dish yer ole callyboose 'ud be a-leakin' long 'fo'
Chris'mus."

Just then another hickory-nut dropped upon the roof, and the little boy
jumped again. This seemed to amuse Uncle Remus, and he laughed until he
was near to choking himself with his smoking hoe-cake.

"You does des 'zackly lak ole Brer Rabbit done, I 'clar' to gracious ef
you don't!" the old man cried, as soon as he could get his breath; "dez
zackly fer de worl'."

The child was immensely flattered, and at once he wanted to know how
Brother Rabbit did. Uncle Remus was in such good humor that he needed no
coaxing. He pushed his spectacles back on his forehead, wiped his mouth
on his sleeve, and began:

"Hit come 'bout dat soon one mawnin' todes de fall er de year, Brer
Rabbit wuz stirrin' 'roun' in de woods atter some bergamot fer ter make
'im some h'ar-grease. De win' blow so col' dat it make 'im feel right
frisky, en eve'y time he year de bushes rattle he make lak he skeerd. He
'uz gwine on dis a-way, hoppity-skippity, w'en bimeby he year Mr. Man
cuttin' on a tree way off in de woods. He fotch up, Brer Rabbit did, en
lissen fus' wid one year en den wid de yuther.

"Man, he cut en cut, en Bre