Ef you den't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin; sez brer rabbit, sezee, en wid that he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han; en dat stuck. Tar-baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin; and brer fox, he lay low. Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you; sez brer rabbit, sezee, but de tar-baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'; she des hilt on, en den brer rabbit loose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer fox, he lay low. Den brer rabbit squall out dat ef de tar-baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den brer fox, he sa'ntered fort; lookin' des ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds. 66 I speck you'll I done laid in ·Howdy, brer rabbit'; sez brer fox, sezee. 'You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin'; sezee, en den he rolled on de groun; en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo; take dinner wid me dis time, brer rabbit. some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuses,' sez brer fox, sezee." Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes. 66 Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story had been told. 66 Dat's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old man. “He mout, en den agin he moutent. Some say jedge b'ar come 'long en den loosed 'im some say he didn't. "I hear Miss Sally callin,' you better run 'long." THE CAPTAIN'S TALE.* HARRIS. ONE day in March, 1869, while we was layin' in port off Bunbury, in Western Australia, I was ashore; and I see a nice lookin' young fellow, about twenty-four years old, eyein' me pretty sharp. He was at work on a chain-gang. Watchin' his chance, he says to me. "Are you the mate of that whaler?" 66 6 'Yes,' says I. 6 "Then,' says he, has the priest said anything to you about me?' *From "A SUMMER IN THE AZORES," by C. ALICE BAKER. Published by Lee and Shepard, Boston. "No,' says I. "Well, he's goin' to,' says he, and passed on quick. "The priest follered right along, and asked me if I'd ever seen that young man before. 666 Never to my knowledge,' says I. "Then he told me it was Doyle, a Fenian prisoner; that he had been confined in Dartmoor prison in England for seven months, and then sent to Australia for life; that he'd been there goin' on 'leven months, and he wanted to get off. And the upshot of it was the priest offered me five hundred dollars to get him off. "I told him I didn't want his money. If he'd been a thief or a murderer I wouldn't have tried to helped him anyway; but I couldn't make out that he'd committed any crime; so the priest and I, we fixed it that the next day, when my ship got under way, I should pick him up in the yawl — and I did. 66 'It beat all how quick everybody on board took to that fellow he was so pleasant, and such a handsome young chap. "Well, come August, we had to put into Rodrigues for water. It was that, or die of thirst. That's not far from Mauritius, in the Indian Ocean. "By this time the news of Doyle's escape had got ahead of us and was known all over the world. It was just before sunset when a boat from shore come alongside, and her officer boarded us. Doyle was standing just as near me as I be to you, when the officer up and says to me: 'Have you got a man aboard by the name of Doyle?' 46 “I kind of thought a minute - it seemed if 'twas about an hour and then I says, 'No,' says I, very quiet; 'we did have a fellow aboard by the name of Brown, but he died two months ago at Java.' "He looked at me a minute: then says he, 'Well, you've got some ticket-of-leave men aboard, haven't you? 66 I was mighty glad he asked me that; for I thought it would take up his attention and give me a little time to think. "I can't say as to that,' says I. "Well, says he, call your men up from forrard and we'll soon find out.' 666 No,' says I; "I don't wan't nothin' to do with that kind of business. like.' You can look for yourselves if you "So he and his gang went forrard and hauled out the stowaways, and put 'em aboard their boat, and pulled ashore, appearin' to be satisfied. "As soon as they were gone, Doyle, half crazy, says to me; 'My God! it's all up with me! What can I do? They'll come back for me, but I'll never be taken alive!' 66 I knew he meant what he said; for the priest had told me he'd tried to commit suicide, and, if he couldn't escape, had determined to kill himself. I calmed him down: told him to go below and keep out of sight, and I'd try to think up something: but says I, 'You shan't be taken as long as I can stand by you.' "I knew very well that as soon as they got ashore those ticket-of-leave men would blow on him; and I really didn't know what to do. Things looked black. By this time it got to be dark, and I sat down by myself to think. Then I remembered a kind of locker under the stairs, where the steward sometimes kep' the dishes he wasn't usin'. I knew they'd never find him there. Then I went to Doyle and told him to go and find a little grindstone there was on the ship, while I kep' the men busy forrard. When I come back I'd stop a spell and talk with the steward; and when he heard me talkin' he must throw the grindstone and his hat overboard, and give a shriek and then run and stow himself in the locker. "When I come along back I stopped and says to the steward, 'I don't know what will happen when those fellows come aboard to-morrow morning, Joyle will never be taken alive. He'll kill some of 'em and kill himself: he threatened to do it in Australia.' "Just then we heard a great splash and a scream. 'What's that?' says I. "It's Doyle," says the steward; he's thrown himself overboard.' "Everybody heard it. The captain was off that day. I rushed aft, told the other officers and ordered out the boats, The men felt terribly. Every one of 'em was fond of him. We got out four boats and swept that harbor for hours. I was the last boat in. When I got aboard I found the second mate leanin' over the ship's side, crying bitterly. He's gone, poor fellow! here's his hat,' says he; the men have just picked it up. We shall never see him again.' "There wasn't a wink of sleep on board that night. The next morning I put the flag at half-mast. Everybody was solemn as death, Doyle's wet hat lay on the hatchway. They all thought he was dead. 66 The captain come off to see what was the matter. I told him the story-how we heard the splash, got out the boats and picked up Doyle's hat. Right in the midst of it the officers from Rodrigues come aboard to claim their man. We told 'em the story and showed 'em the wet hat. They never offered to search the vessel. They see how bad the men felt; and they believed it all and pulled off. 66 Late that afternoon we got our water all aboard and bore away to sea. I waited till we was almost out o' sight o' land: then I says to the captain: 'I guess I'll go below and get a cigar.' I went, and hauled the step away; and there was Doyle, all in a heap. I can see that fellow's face right before me now, white as chalk, eyes as black as night. He looked like a wild man. "What now?' says he, trembling all over. Come out of that,' says I. 66 6 "What do you mean? says he. "Don't stop to ask questions, man,' says I. that and come up; you're safe for this time. almost out of sight.' 'Get out of Land is "He crawled out, and we went on deck together. 'Now,' says I, go and shake hands with the captain.' "I went to the side of the ship and stood there smokin', and pretendin' to be scannin' the horizon. I see the captain give one look at Doyle: a kind of scared look. He thought it was his ghost. Then he wrung Doyle's hand and burst out cryin' jest like a baby. Pretty soon he looked at I never said a word. Did that fellow have anything to do with it?' says he." me. SPECULATION. HAZARD, a careless fellow known One day when cruel fortune's frown Such a display, I need not mention, 66 66 66 Pray, sir, is your good master in?" My master, sir's, at home, but busy." Then he's engaged," quoth Hazard, “is he?” In voice as loud as he could bellow. "I'm very sorry, my good fellow, "What's that you say?" the master cries, |