Joel Chandler Harris

“ Hit look mighty cu’us, Brer Remus.”
“Cum down ter dat, Brer Ab,” said Uncle Remus, wiping his spectacles carefully, and readjusting them—“cum down ter dat, an’ dey ain’t nuthin’ dat ain’t cu’us. I ain’t no spishus nigger myse’f, but I ’spizes fer ter year dogs a howlin’ an’ squinch-owls havin’ de ager out in de woods, an’ w’en a bull goes a bellerin’ by de house den my bones git col’ an’ my flesh commences fer ter creep ”

“ W’en old man Gabrile toot his ho’n, he ain’t gwineter hang no sine out in de winder-panes, an when ole Fadder Jacob lets down dat lather er his’n you’ll be mighty ap’ fer ter hear de racket. An’ don’t you bodder wid jedgment-day. ”

“ Some say dat jedgment day ain’t fur off, an’ de folks is flockin’ ’roun’ de house a hollerin’ an’ a- shoutin’ des like dey wuz in er revival. In de winder glass dar you kin see de flags a flyin’, an’ Jacob’s lather is dar, an’ dar’s writin’ on de pane w’at no man can’t read—leas’wise dey ain’t none read it yit. ”