“Well, I saw the pie lying there, Uncle Remus, and I just thought I’d fetch it out to you.”

“Tooby sho, honey,” replied the old man, regarding the child with admiration.  “Tooby sho, honey; dat changes marters.  Chris’mus doin’s is outer date, en dey ain’t got no bizness layin’ roun’ loose.  Dish yer pie,” Uncle Remus continued, holding it up and measuring it with an experienced eye, “will gimme strenk fer ter persoo on atter Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit en de udder creeturs w’at dey roped in ’long wid um.”

Here the old man paused, and proceeded to demolish the pie—­a feat accomplished in a very short time.  Then he wiped the crumbs from his beard and began: 

“Brer Fox feel so bad, en he git so mad ’bout Brer Rabbit, dat he dunner w’at ter do, en he look mighty down-hearted.  Bimeby, one day wiles he wuz gwine ’long de road, old Brer Wolf come up wid ‘im.  W’en dey done howdyin’ en axin’ atter one nudder’s fambly connexshun, Brer Wolf, he ’low, he did, dat der wuz sump’n wrong wid Brer Fox, en Brer Fox, he ’low’d der wern’t, en he went on en laugh en make great terdo kaze Brer Wolf look like he spishun sump’n.  But Brer Wolf, he got mighty long head, en he sorter broach ’bout Brer Rabbit’s kyar’ns on, kaze de way dat Brer Rabbit ’ceive Brer Fox done got ter be de talk er de naberhood.  Den Brer Fox en Brer Wolf dey sorter palavered on, dey did, twel bimeby Brer Wolf he up’n say dat he done got plan fix fer ter trap Brer Rabbit.  Den Brer Fox say how.  Den Brer Wolf up’n tell ’im dat de way fer ter git de drap on Brer Rabbit wuz ter git ’im in Brer Fox house.  Brer Fox dun know Brer Rabbit uv ole, en he know dat sorter game done wo’ ter a frazzle, but Brer Wolf, he talk mighty ‘swadin’.

“’How you gwine git ‘im dar?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

“’Fool ‘im dar,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee.

“‘Who gwine do de foolin’?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

“‘I’ll do de foolin’,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee, ’ef you’ll do de gamin’,’ sezee.

“‘How you gwine do it?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

“’You run ’long home, en git on de bed, en make like you dead, en don’t you say nothin’ twel Brer Rabbit come en put his han’s onter you,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee, ’en ef we don’t git ’im fer supper, Joe’s dead en Sal’s a widder,’ sezee.

“Dis look like mighty nice game, en Brer Fox ’greed.  So den he amble off home, en Brer Wolf, he march off ter Brer Rabbit house.  W’en he got dar, hit look like nobody at home, but Brer Wolf he walk up en knock on de do’—­blam! blam!  Nobody come.  Den he lam aloose en knock ’gin—­blim! blim!

“‘Who dar?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

“‘Fr’en’,’ sez Brer Wolf.

“‘Too menny fr’en’s spiles de dinner,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘w’ich un’s dis?’ sezee.

“‘I fetch bad news, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee.

“‘Bad news is soon tole,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

“By dis time Brer Rabbit done come ter de do’, wid his head tied up in a red hankcher.