the child did n't know whether to laugh
or cry. Presently the old African flung his hands to his head, and
rocked his body from side to side, moaning and mumbling, and talking to
himself, while the tears ran down his face like rain.

"Ole Missy! Ole Missy! 'E come back! I bin shum dey-dey, I bin shum de
night! I bin yeddy 'e v'ice, I bin yeddy de sign!"

"Ah-yi!" exclaimed Uncle Remus, into whose arms the little boy had fled;
"I des know'd dat 'ud fetch 'im. Hit 's bin manys de long days sence
Brer Jack seed Ole Miss, yit ef he aint seed 'er dat whack, den I aint
settin' yer."

After a while Daddy Jack ceased his rocking, and his moaning, and his
crying, and sat gazing wistfully into the fireplace. Whatever he saw
there fixed his attention, for Uncle Remus spoke to him several times
without receiving a response. Presently, however, Daddy Jack exclaimed
with characteristic but laughable irrelevance:

"I no lakky dem gal wut is bin-a stan' pidjin-toe. Wun 'e fetch pail er
water on 'e head, water churray, churray. I no lakky dem gal wut tie 'e
wool up wit' string; mekky him stan' ugly fer true. I bin ahx da' 'Tildy
gal fer marry me, un 'e no crack 'im bre't' fer mek answer 'cep' 'e
bre'k out un lahf by me werry face. Da' gal do holler un lahf un stomp
'e fut dey-dey, un dun I shum done gone pidjin-toe. Oona bin know da'
'Tildy gal?"

"I bin a-knowin' dat gal," said Uncle Remus, grimly regarding the old
African; "I bin a-knowin' dat gal now gwine on sence she 'uz knee-high
ter one er deze yer puddle-ducks; en I bin noticin' lately dat she
mighty likely nigger."

"Enty!" exclaimed Daddy Jack, enthusiastically, "I did bin mek up ter
da' lilly gal troo t'ick un t'in. I bin fetch 'im one fine 'possum, un
mo' ez one, two, free peck-a taty, un bumbye I bin fetch 'im one bag
pop-co'n. Wun I bin do dat, I is fley 'roun' da' lilly gal so long tam,
un I yeddy 'im talk wit' turrer gal. 'E do say: 'Daddy Jack fine ole man
fer true.' Dun I is bin talk: 'Oona no call-a me Daddy Jack wun dem
preacher man come fer marry we.' Dun da' lilly gal t'row 'e head back;
'e squeal lak filly in canebrake."

The little boy understood this rapidly spoken lingo perfectly well, but
he would have laughed anyhow, for there was more than a suggestion of
the comic in the shrewd seriousness that seemed to focus itself in Daddy
Jack's pinched and wrinkled face.

"She tuck de truck w'at you tuck'n fotch 'er," said Uncle Remus, with
the air of one car