"'Hop on my head, little Jack Sparrer, kaze I'm de'f in bofe
years.'

"Up hop de little bird.

"'Hop on my toof, little Jack Sparrer, kaze I'm de'f in one year
en I can't hear out'n de udder.'

"De tattlin' little bird hop on Brer Fox's toof, en den--"

Here Uncle Remus paused, opened wide his mouth and closed it
again in a way that told the whole story. *1

"Did the Fox eat the bird all--all up?" asked the little boy.

"Jedge B'ar come long nex' day," replied Uncle Remus, "en he fine
some fedders, en fum dat word went roun' dat ole man Squinch
Owl done kotch nudder watzizname."

*1 An Atlanta friend heard this story in Florida, but an
alligator was substituted for the fox, and a little boy for
the rabbit. There is another version in which the impertinent
gosling goes to tell the fox something her mother has said,
and is caught; and there may be other versions. I have adhered
to the middle Georgia version, which is characteristic enough.
It may be well to state that there are different versions of
all the stories--the shrewd narrators of the mythology of the
old plantation adapting themselves with ready tact to the
years, tastes, and expectations of their juvenile audiences.