'd ole Unk Monk, Brer Remus. You bleeze ter know'd 'im. Up dar in
Ferginny. I 'clar' ter goodness, it make me feel right foolish. Brer
Remus, I des know you know'd Unk Monk."

For the first time in many a day the little boy saw Uncle Remus in a
serious mood. He leaned forward in his chair, shook his head sadly, as
he gazed into the fire.

"Ah, Lord, Sis Tempy!" he exclaimed sorrowfully, "don't less we all go
foolin' 'roun' 'mungs' dem ole times. De bes' kinder bread gits sour.
W'at's yistiddy wid us wuz 'fo' de worl' begun wid dish yer chile. Dat 's
de way I looks at it."

"Dat 's de Lord's trufe, Brer Remus," exclaimed Aunt Tempy with unction,
"un I mighty glad you call me ter myse'f. Little mo' un I'd er sot right
yer un 'a' gone 'way back to Ferginny, un all on 'count er dat ar tale
w'at I year long time ago."

"What tale was that, Aunt Tempy?" asked the little boy.

"Eh-eh, honey!" replied Aunt Tempy, with a display of genuine
bashfulness; "eh-eh, honey! I 'fraid you all 'll set up dar un laugh me
outer de house. I aint dast ter tell no tale 'long side er Brer Remus
un Daddy Jack yer. I 'fraid I git it all mix up."

The child manifested such genuine disappointment that Aunt Tempy
relented a little.

"Ef you all laugh, now," she said, with a threatening air, "I'm des
gwine ter pick up en git right out er dish yer place. Dey aint ter be
no laughin', 'kaze de tale w'at I year in Ferginny aint no laughin'
tale."

With this understanding Aunt Tempy adjusted her head-handkerchief,
looked around rather sheepishly, as Uncle Remus declared afterwards in
confidence to the little boy, and began:

"Well, den, in de times w'en Brer Rabbit un Brer Fox live in de same
settlement wid one er 'n'er, de season's tuck'n come wrong. De wedder
got hot un den a long dry drouth sot in, un it seem like dat de nat'al
leaf on de trees wuz gwine ter tu'n ter powder."

Aunt Tempy emphasized her statements by little backward and forward
movements of her head, and the little boy would have laughed, but a
warning glance from Uncle Remus prevented him.

"De leaf on de trees look like dey gwine ter tu'n ter powder, un de
groun' look like it done bin cookt. All de truck w'at de creeturs plant
wuz all parched up, un dey wa'n't no crops made nowhars. Dey dunner w'at
ter do. Dey run dis a-way, dey run dat a-way; yit w'en dey quit runnin'
dey dunner whar dey bread comin' frun. Dis de way it look ter Brer Fox,
un so one day w'en he got a mig