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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 150 pages of information about Uncle Remus, his songs and his sayings.

“De Bad Man, honey; de Ole Boy hisse’f right fresh from de ridjun w’at you year Miss Sally readin’ ’bout.  He done hide his hawns, en his tail, en his hoof, en he come dress up like w’ite fokes.  He tuck off his hat en he bow, en den he tell de blacksmif who he is, en dat he done come atter ’im.  Den de black-smif, he gun ter cry en beg, en he beg so hard en he cry so loud dat de Bad Man say he make a trade wid ‘im.  At de een’ er one year de sperit er de blacksmif wuz to be his’n en endurin’ er dat time de blacksmif mus’ put in his hottes’ licks in de intruss er de Bad Man, en den he put a spell on de cheer de blacksmif was settin’ in, en on his sludge-hammer.  De man w’at sot in de cheer couldn’t git up less’n de blacksmif let ’im, en de man w’at pick up de sludge ’ud hatter keep on knockin’ wid it twel de blacksmif say quit; en den he gun ’im money plenty, en off he put.

“De blacksmif, he sail in fer ter have his fun, en he have so much dat he done clean forgot ’bout his contrack, but bimeby, one day he look down de road, en dar he see de Bad Man comin’, en den he know’d de year wuz out.  W’en de Bad Man got in de do’, de blacksmif wuz poundin’ ’way at a hoss-shoe, but he wa’n’t so bizzy dat he didn’t ax ’im in.  De Bad Man sorter do like he ain’t got no time fer ter tarry, but de blacksmif say he got some little jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en den he ax de Bad Man fer ter set down a minnit; en de Bad Man, he tuck’n sot down, en he sot in dat cheer w’at he done conju’d en, co’se, dar he wuz.  Den de blacksmif, he ’gun ter poke fun at de Bad Man, en he ax him don’t he want a dram, en won’t he hitch his cheer up little nigher de fier, en de Bad Man, he beg en he beg, but ’twan’t doin’ no good, kase de blacksmif ’low dat he gwineter keep ’im dar twel he prommus dat he let ‘im off one year mo’, en, sho nuff, de Bad Man prommus dat ef de black-smif let ’im up he give ‘im a n’er showin’.  So den de blacksmif gun de wud, en de Bad Man sa’nter off down de big road, settin’ traps en layin’ his progance fer ter ketch mo’ sinners.

“De nex’ year hit pass same like t’er one.  At de ’p’inted time yer come de Ole Boy atter de blacksmif, but still de blacksmif had some jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en he ax de Bad Man fer ter take holt er de sludge en he he’p ’im out; en de Bad Man, he ’low dat r’er’n be disperlite, he don’t keer ef he do hit ’er a biff er two; en wid dat he grab up de sludge, en dar he wuz ’gin, kase he done conju’d de sludge so dat whosomedever tuck ’er up can’t put ’er down less’n de blacksmif say de wud.  Dey perlaver’d dar, dey did, twel bimeby de Bad Man he up’n let ’im off n’er year.

“Well, den, dat year pass same ez t’er one.  Mont’ in en mont’ out dat man wuz rollin’ in dram, en bimeby yer come de Bad Man.  De blacksmif cry en he holler, en he rip ‘roun’ en t’ar his ha’r, but hit des like he didn’t, kase de Bad Man grab ’im up en cram ’im in a bag en tote ’im off.  W’iles dey wuz gwine ’long dey

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