er."

"I year talk er dat," remarked Aunt Tempy, with an approving nod.

"Yasser! in de nat'al tar-water," continued Uncle Remus. "You put yo'
han' in a pa'tridge nes', en he'll quit dem premises dough he done got
'lev'm dozen aigs in dar. Same wid Rabbit. Dey aint got sense lak de
ole-time Rabbit, but I let you know dey aint gwine in no trap whar dey
smell folks' han's--dat dey aint. Dat w'at make I say w'at I does.
Don't put yo' han' on it; don't tetch it; don't look at it skacely."

The little boy subsided, but he continued to cast longing looks at the
trap, seeing which Uncle Remus sought to change the current of his
thoughts.

"She bin er mighty heap er trouble, mon, yet I mighty glad I tuck'n make
dat ar trap. She's a solid un, sho', en ef dey wuz ter be any skaceness
er vittles, I lay dat ar trap 'ud help us all out."

"De Lord knows," exclaimed Aunt Tempy, rubbing her fat hands together,
"I hope dey aint gwine ter be no famishin' 'roun' yer 'mungs we all."

"Likely not," said Uncle Remus, "yet de time mought come w'en a big
swamp rabbit kotch in dat ar trap would go a mighty long ways in a
fambly no bigger dan w'at mine is."

"Mo' speshually," remarked Aunt Tempy, "ef you put dat wid w'at de
neighbors mought sen' in."

"Eh-eh!" Uncle Remus exclaimed, "don't you put no 'pennunce in dem
neighbors--don't you do it. W'en famine time come one man aint no
better dan no yuther man 'ceppin' he be soopless; en he got ter be
mighty soople at dat."

The old man paused and glanced at the little boy. The child was still
looking longingly at the trap, and Uncle Remus leaned forward and
touched him lightly on the shoulder. It was a familiar gesture, gentle
and yet rough, a token of affection, and yet a command to attention;
for the venerable darkey could be imperious enough when surrendering to
the whims of his little partner.

"All dish yer talk 'bout folks pe'shin' out," Uncle Remus went on with
an indifferent air, "put me in min' er de times w'en de creeturs tuck'n
got up a famine 'mungs deyse'f. Hit come 'bout dat one time vittles wuz
monst'us skace en high, en money mighty slack. Long ez dey wuz any
vittles gwine 'roun', Brer Rabbit, he 'uz boun' ter git he sheer un um,
but bimeby hit come ter dat pass dat Brer Rabbit stomach 'gun ter pinch
'im; en w'iles he gettin' hongry de yuther creeturs, dey 'uz gettin'
hongry deyse'f. Hit went on dis a-way twel one day Brer Rabbit en Brer
Wolf meet up wid one er n'er in