in dar. Dey ain't
none drap in yit," continued Uncle Remus, gently knocking the cold ashes
out of his pipe; "en w'at's mo', dey ain't none gwine ter drap in dar.
Dat des 'zackly de way wid Brer Jack yer, 'bout marryin'; he stan' dar,
he do, en he hol' bofe han's wide open en he 'speck de gal gwine ter
drap right spang in um. Man want gal, he des got ter grab 'er--dat's
w'at. Dey may squall en dey may flutter, but flutter'n' en squallin'
ain't done no damage yit ez I knows un, en 't ain't gwine ter. Young
chaps kin make great 'miration 'bout gals, but w'en dey gits ole ez I
is, dey ull know dat folks is folks, en w'en it come ter bein' folks, de
wimmen ain gut none de 'vantage er de men. Now dat's des de plain up en
down tale I'm a-tellin' un you."

This deliverance from so respectable an authority seemed to please Daddy
Jack immensely. He rubbed his withered hands together, smacked his lips
and chuckled. After a few restless movements he got up and went
shuffling to the door, his quick, short steps causing Uncle Remus to
remark:--

"De gal w'at git ole Brer Jack 'ull git a natchul pacer, sho'. He move
mo' one-sideder dan ole Zip Coon, w'ich he rack up de branch all night
long wid he nose p'int lak he gwine 'cross."

While the little boy was endeavoring to get Uncle Remus to explain the
nature of Daddy Jack's grievances, muffled laughter was heard outside,
and almost immediately 'Tildy rushed in the door. 'Tildy flung herself
upon the floor and rolled and laughed until, apparently, she could laugh
no more. Then she seemed to grow severely angry. She arose from the
floor and flopped herself down in a chair, and glared at Uncle Remus
with indignation in her eyes. As soon as she could control her inflamed
feelings, she cried:--

"Wat is I done ter you, Unk' Remus? 'Fo' de Lord, ef anybody wuz ter
come en tole me dat you gwine ter put de Ole Boy in dat ole Affikin
nigger head, I would n't er b'leeved um--dat I would n't. Unk' Remus,
w'at is I done ter you?"

Uncle Remus made no direct response; but he leaned over, reached out his
hand, and picked up an unfinished axe-helve that stood in the corner.
Then he took the little boy by the arm, and pushed him out of the way,
saying in his gentlest and most persuasive tone:--

"Stan' sorter 'roun' dar, honey, 'kaze w'en de splinters 'gin ter fly, I
want you ter be out'n de way. Miss Sally never gimme 'er fergivance in
de roun' worl' ef you 'uz ter git hurted on account er de