Miss Favers fix up fer de stiffness in my j'ints.
Dey'll come en dey'll go, en dey'll po' in der jollup yer, en slap on
der fly-plarster dar, en sprinkle der calomy yander, twel bimeby dat
chile won't look like hisse'f. Dat's w'at! En mo'n dat, hit's mighty
kuse unter me dat ole folks kin go 'long en stan' up ter de rack en
gobble up der 'lowance, en yit chilluns is got ter be strucken down. Ef
Miss Sally'll des tu'n dem docter mens loose onter me, I lay I lick up
der physic twel dey go off 'stonish'd."

But no appeal of this nature was made to Uncle Remus. The illness of the
little boy was severe, but not fatal. He took his medicine and improved,
until finally even the doctors pronounced him convalescent. But he was
very weak, and it was a fortnight before he was permitted to leave his
bed. He was restless, and yet his term of imprisonment was full of
pleasure. Every night after supper Uncle Remus would creep softly into
the back piazza, place his hat carefully on the floor, rap gently on the
door by way of announcement, and so pass into the nursery. How patient
his vigils, how tender his ministrations, only the mother of the little
boy knew; how comfortable and refreshing the change from the bed to the
strong arms of Uncle Remus, only the little boy could say.

Almost the first manifestation of the child's convalescence was the
renewal of his interest in the wonderful adventures of Brother Rabbit,
Brother Fox, and the other brethren who flourished in that strange past
over which this modern AEsop had thrown the veil of fable. "Miss Sally,"
as Uncle Remus called the little boy's mother, sitting in an adjoining
room, heard the youngster pleading for a story, and after a while she
heard the old man clear up his throat with a great affectation of
formality and begin.

"Dey ain't skacely no p'int whar ole Brer Rabbit en ole Brer Fox made
der 'greements side wid one er 'n'er; let 'lone dat, dey wuz one p'int
'twix' 'um w'ich it wuz same ez fier en tow, en dat wuz Miss Meadows en
de gals. Little ez you might 'speck, dem same creeturs wuz bofe un um
flyin' 'roun' Miss Meadows en de gals. Ole Brer Rabbit, he'd go dar, en
dar he'd fine ole Brer Fox settin' up gigglin' wid de gals, en den he'd
skuze hisse'f, he would, en gallop down de big road a piece, en paw up
de san' same lak dat ar ball-face steer w'at tuck'n tuck off yo' pa'
coat-tail las' Feberwary. En lakwise ole Brer Fox, he'd sa'nter in, en
fine old man Rab. settin'