“De little Rabbits, dey got out de sugar-cane, dey did, en dey rastle wid it, en sweat over it, but twan’t no use.  Dey couldn’t broke it.  Brer Fox, he make like he ain’t watchin’, but he keep on holler’n: 

“‘Hurry up dar, Rabs!  I’m a waitin’ on you.’

“En de little Rabbits, dey hustle ‘roun’ en rastle wid it, but they couldn’t broke it.  Bimeby dey hear little bird singin’ on top er de house, en de song w’at de little bird sing wuz dish yer.

“‘Take yo’ toofies en gnyaw it,
Take yo’ toofies en saw it,
Saw it en yoke it,
En den you kin broke it.’

“Den de little Rabbits, dey git mighty glad, en dey gnyawed de cane mos’ ‘fo’ ’ole Brer Fox could git his legs oncrosst, en w’en dey kyard ’im de cane, Brer Fox, he sot dar en study how he gwineter make some mo’ skuse fer nabbin’ un um, en bimeby he git up en git down de sifter w’at wuz hangin’ on de wall, en holler out: 

“’Come yer, Rabs!  Take dish yer sifter, en run down’t de spring en fetch me some fresh water.’

“De little Rabbits, dey run down’t de spring, en try ter dip up de water wid de sifter, but co’se hit all run out, en hit keep on runnin’ out, twel bimeby de little Rabbits sot down en ’gun ter cry.  Den de little bird settin’ up in de tree he begin fer ter sing, en dish yer’s de song w’at he sing: 

“‘Sifter hol’ water same ez a tray,
Ef you fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay;
De Fox git madder de longer you stay—­
Fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay.’

“Up dey jump, de little Rabbits did, en dey fix de sifter so ’twon’t leak, en den dey kyar de water ter ole Brer Fox.  Den Brer Fox he git mighty mad, en p’int out a great big stick er wood, en tell de little Rabbits fer ter put dat on de fier.  De little chaps dey got ‘roun’ de wood, dey did, en dey lif’ at it so hard twel dey could see der own sins, but de wood ain’t budge.  Den dey hear de little bird singin’, en dish yer’s de song w’at he sing: 

“‘Spit in yo’ han’s en tug it en toll it,
En git behime it, en push it, en pole it;
Spit in yo’ han’s en r’ar back en roll it.’

“En des ’bout de time dey got de wood on de fier, der daddy, he come skippin’ in, en de little bird, he flew’d away.  Brer Fox, he seed his game wuz up, en ’twan’t long ‘fo’ he make his skuse en start fer ter go.

“‘You better Stay en take a snack wid me, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.  ‘Sence Brer Wolf done quite comin’ en settin’ up wid me, I gittin’ so I feels right lonesome dese long nights,’ sezee.

“But Brer Fox, he button up his coat-collar tight en des put out fer home.  En dat w’at you better do, honey, kaze I see Miss Sally’s shadder sailin’ backerds en forerds ‘fo’ de winder, en de fus’ news you know she’ll be spectin’ un you.”

XXIII.  MR. RABBIT AND MR. BEAR

“Dar wuz one season” said Uncle Remus, pulling thoughtfully at his whiskers, “w’en Brer Fox say to hisse’f dat he speck he better whirl in en plant a goober-patch, en in dem days, mon, hit wuz tech en go.  De wud wern’t mo’n out’n his mouf ‘fo’ de groun’ ’uz brok’d up en de goobers ’uz planted.  Ole Brer Rabbit, he sot off en watch de motions, he did, en he sorter shet one eye en sing to his chilluns: