erstitions of the negroes, and to him the rabbit foot appeared to
be an uncanny affair. He placed it carefully on Uncle Remus's knee, and
after the pipe had been filled, he asked:--

"What do you carry that for, Uncle Remus?"

"Well, honey," responded the old man, grimly, "ef you want me ter make
shorts out'n a mighty long tale, dat rabbit foot is fer ter keep off
boogers. W'en I hatter run er'n's fer myse'f all times er night, en take
nigh cuts thoo de woods, en 'cross by de buryin'-groun', hits monst'us
handy fer ter have dat ar rabbit foot. Keep yo' head studdy, now; mine
yo' eye; I ain't sayin' deyer any boogers anywhars. Brer Jack kin say
w'at he mineter; I ain't sayin' nothin'. But yit, ef dey wuz any, en dey
come slinkin' atter me, I let you know dey'd fine out terreckly dat de
ole nigger heel'd wid rabbit foot. I 'ud hol' it up des dis a-way, en I
boun' you I'd shoo um off'n de face er de yeth. En I tell you w'at,"
continued Uncle Remus, seeing that the little boy was somewhat troubled,
"w'en it come to dat pass dat you gotter be dodgin' 'roun' in de dark,
ef you'll des holler fer me, I'll loan you dish yer rabbit foot, en
you'll be des ez safe ez you is w'en Miss Sally stannin' by yo' bed wid
a lit can'le in 'er han'.

"Strip er red flannil tied 'roun' yo' arm'll keep off de rheumatis;
stump-water 'll kyo 'spepsy; some good fer one 'zeeze,[27] en some good
fer n'er, but de p'ints is dat dish yer rabbit foot 'll gin you good
luck. De man w'at tote it mighty ap' fer ter come out right een' up w'en
dey's any racket gwine on in de neighborhoods, let 'er be whar she will
en w'en she may; mo' espeshually ef de man w'at got it know 'zactly w'at
he got ter do. W'ite folks may laugh," Uncle Remus went on, "but w'en
rabbit run 'cross de big road front er me, w'at does I do? Does I shoo
at um? Does I make fer ter kill um? Dat I don't--_dat_ I don't! I des
squots right down in de middle er de road, en I makes a cross-mark in de
san' des dis way, en den I spits in it."[28]

Uncle Remus made a practical illustration by drawing a cross-mark in the
ashes on the hearth.

"Well, but, Uncle Remus, what good does all this do?" the little boy
asked.

"Lots er good, honey; bless yo' soul, lots er good. W'en rabbit crosses
yo' luck, w'at you gwine do, less'n you sets down en crosses it out,
right den en dar? I year talk er folks shootin' rabbit in de big road,
yit I notices dat dem w'at does de shootin' ain't come ter no good