“‘Well,’ sez Brer Coon, sezee, ‘I bet yer hit’s Brer Rabbit.’

“’I lay I’ll fix ‘im,’ sez Brer Fox; so he goes, he does, and he tuck’n made er man out’n tar, an’ he sot ’im, he did, right in de middle uv de goober-patch.  Well, sar, soon ez eber de moon riz, Brer Rabbit, he stole outn his house, and he lit right out fur dem goobers; and by’mby he sees de tar man er stanin’ dar, an’ he hollers out, ‘Who’s dat er stanin’ dar an’ er fixin’ ter steal Brer Fox’s goobers?’ Den he lis’en, and nobody nuver anser, and he ’gin ter git mad, and he sez, sezee, ’Yer brack nigger you, yer better anser me wen I speaks ter yer;’ and wid dat he hault off, he did, and hit de tar baby side de head, and his han’ stuck fas’ in de tar.  ‘Now yer better turn me er loose,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘I got er nuther han’ lef’,’ and ‘ker bum’ he come wid his udder han’, on de tar baby’s tuther jaw, an’ dat han’ stuck.

“‘Look er hyear! who yer foolin’ wid?’ sez Brer Rabbit; ’I got er foot yit.’  Den he kick wid all his might, an’ his foot stuck.  Den he kick wid his udder foot, an’ dat stuck.  Den Brer Rabbit he ’gun ter git madder’n he wuz, an’ sezee, ’Ef yer fool ‘long o’ me mun, I’ll butt de life out’n yer;’ an’ he hault off wid his head, an’ butt de tar baby right in de chis, an’ his head stuck.  Den dar he wuz! an’ dar he had ter stay, till, by’mby, Brer Fox he come er long, an’ he seed de Rabbit er stickin’ dar, an’ he tuck him up, an’ he cyard ‘im long ter Brer Coon’s house, an’ he sez, sezee,

“‘Brer Coon, hyear’s de man wat stole my goobers; now wat mus’ I do wid ‘im?’

“Brer Coon tuck de Fox off one side, he did, an’ he say, ’Le’s give ’im his chice, wheder he’d er ruther be tho’d in de fire or de brier-patch; an’ ef he say de fire, den we’ll fling ‘im in de briers; an’ ef he say de briers, den we’ll fling ‘im in de fire.’  So dey went back ter de Rabbit, an’ ax ’im wheder he’d er ruther be tho’d in de fire or de briers.

“‘Oh, Brer Fox,’ sezee, ‘plee-ee-eeze don’t tho me in de briers, an’ git me all scratched up; plee-ee-eeze tho me in de fire; fur de Lord’s sake,’ sezee, ‘don’t tho me in de briers.’

“And wid dat, Brer Fox he lif’ ‘im up, an’ tho’d ’im way-ay-ay over in de briers.  Den Brer Rabbit he kick up his heels, he did, an’ he laugh, an’ he laugh, an’ he holler out,

“‘Good-bye, Brer Fox!  Far’ yer well, Brer Coon!  I wuz born an’ riz in de briers!’ And wid dat he lit right out, he did, an’ he nuber stop tell he got clean smack home.”

[Illustration:  “THE TAR BABY.”]

The children were mightily pleased with this story; and Diddie, after carefully writing underneath it,

“The END of The Tar Baby,”

said she could write the poetry and history part some other day; so she closed the book, and gave it to Mammy to put away for her, and she and Dumps went out for a ride on Corbin.

CHAPTER VI.