Ef you ain't nev' bin wom befo', I lay you'll get wom dis time.'

"Dis make Brer Wolf sorter look 'roun', en w'en he see Brer Rabbit
hol'in' on ter de two hoss-tails, he up'n squall out, he did:--

"'Lawdy mussy, Brer Rabbit! Whar my vittles? Whar my waggin? Whar my
hosses?'

"'Dey er all right yer, Brer Wolf; dey er all right yer. I stayed dar
whar you lef' me twel de hosses gun ter git restless. Den I cluck at um,
en, bless gracious, dey start off en lan' in a quicksan'. W'en dey gun
ter mire, I des tuck'n tu'n eve'ything a-loose en grab de hosses by de
tail, en I bin stan'in' yer wishin' fer you, Brer Wolf, twel I done gone
gray in de min'. I 'low ter myse'f dat I'd hang on ter deze yer
hoss-tails ef it killt eve'y cow in de islan'. Come he'p me, Brer Wolf,
en I lay we'll des nat'ally pull de groun' out but w'at we'll git deze
creeturs out.'

"Wid dat, Brer Wolf, he kotch holt er one hoss-tail, en Brer Rabbit, he
kotch holt er de yuther, en w'en dey pull, co'se de tails come out'n de
mud. Dey stood dar, dey did, en dey look at de tails en den dey look at
one n'er. Bimeby Brer Rabbit 'low:--

"'Well, sir, Brer Wolf; we pull so hard twel we pull de tails plum out!'

"Ole Brer Wolf, he dunner w'at ter do, but it 'gun ter git dark, en 't
wa'n't long 'fo' he tell Brer Rabbit good-by, en off he put fer home.
Dat ar Brer Rabbit," Uncle Remus went on, "he des tuck'n wait twel Brer
Wolf git out'n yearin', en den he went into de swamp en druv de hosses
home en git all de vittles, en he ain't hatter sell he ole mammy n'er.
Dat he ain't."

XL

"CUTTA CORD-LA!"

To all appearances Daddy Jack had taken no interest in Uncle Remus's
story of the horses' tails, and yet, as soon as the little boy and Aunt
Tempy were through laughing at a somewhat familiar climax, the old
African began to twist and fidget in his chair, and mumble to himself in
a lingo which might have been understood on the Guinea coast, but which
sounded out of place in Uncle Remus's Middle Georgia cabin. Presently,
however, his uneasiness took tangible shape. He turned around and
exclaimed impatiently:--

"Shuh-shuh! w'en you sta't fer tell-a dem tale, wey you no tell um lak
dey stan'? 'E bery bad fer twis' dem tale 'roun' un 'roun'. Wey you no
talk um stret?"

"Well, Brer Jack," said Uncle Remus, smiling good-humoredly upon the
queer little old man, "ef we done gone en got dat ar tale all twis' up,
de way fer you ter do is ter whirl in en ontwi