His dialect stories of "Uncle Remus are a faithful reproduction of the popular tales of the old negroes of South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama; for the negro dialect varies in the different States. Mr. Harris' books have made these tales known in England.

"On the Plantation" is said to be autobiographical; it is a story of a boy's life during the war, well and simply told.

(From Uncle Remus, His Songs and His Sayings.*)

"Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy the next evening.

"He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you bawn-Brer Fox did. One day atter Brer Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentine, en fix up a contrapshun w'at he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuk dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes fer to see w'at de news wuz gwineter be. En he didn't hatter wait long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de road-lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity-dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit come prancin' 'long twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behine legs like he wuz 'stonished. De TarBaby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"Mawnin'!' says Brer Rabbit, sezee—' nice wedder dis mawnin',' sezee.

* By permission of D. Appleton & Co., N. Y.

"Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low. "How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de TarBaby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'.

"How you come on, den? Is you deaf?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder,' sezee.

Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"Youer stuck up, dat's w'at you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I'm gwineter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwineter do,' sezee.

"Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummuck, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin'.

Ef you

"I'm gwineter larn you howter talk ter 'specttubble fokes ef hit's de las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. don't take off dat hat en tell me howdy, I'm gwineter bus' you wide open,' sezee.

"Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nuthin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's where he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im. Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

But Tar

"Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low.

666

"Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de nat'al stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt on, en den Brer Rabbit lose 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' dez ez innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds.

"Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 'You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin', sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft twel he couldn't laff no mo'. 'I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee."

Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam

out of the ashes.

"Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story had been told.

"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 loosed 'im,—some say he didn't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run 'long."

ROBERT BURNS WILSON.

1850-

ROBERT BURNS WILSON was born in Washington County, Pennsylvania, but removed early to Frankfort, Kentucky, where he devoted himself to landscape painting. Some of his pictures attracted attention at the New Orleans Exposition, 1884. His poems have appeared in magazines and have been much admired for their musical flow of deep feeling and fancy.

Life and Love: Poems.

WORKS.

FAIR DAUGHTER OF THE SUN.

(From Life and Love.*)

Hail! daughter of the sun!

White-robed and fair to see, where goest thou now
In haste from thy spiced garden? Hath thy brow,
Crowned with white blooms, begun

To grow a-weary of its flagrant wreath,
And do thy temples long to ache beneath
A gilded, iron crown?

Tak'st thou the glint of Mammon's glittering car
To be the gleam of some new-risen star—

Yond clamor, for renown?

Stay, lovely one, oh stay!

Within thy gates, love-garlanded, remain:
For love this Mammon seeks not, but for gain-
He is the same alway.

This god in burnished tinsel, as of old,
Cares for no music save of clinking gold-
All else to him is vain:

His heart is flint, his ears are dull as lead;
A crown of care he bringeth for thy head,
And for thy wrists a chain.

Bide thou, oh goddess, stay!

Even in the gateway turn! The orange tree
Keeps still her snowy wreath of love for thee;
The jasmine's starry spray

Still waves thee back: O South! thy glory lies
In thine own sacred flelds. There shall arise

Thy day, which fadeth not:

There-patient hands shall fill thy cup with wine,
There-hearts devoted, make thy name divine,
Their own hard fate forgot.

* By permission of the author, and publishers, the Cassell Publishing Co., N. Y.