Most elaborately Phyllis tied and patted the soiled blue bow. "Now, den, Bray's sho' gwine hatt'r strain 'es mind ter fine out which een' his head stays on! Jump up hyah in Mammy's arms, so we kin run fas' 'fo' Bray wake up!" Quite out of breath, Mammy reached the room up-stairs. Little Willis, interested only in the flight from Bray, did not realize the ruse she had played upon him until he found himself in his little crib bed. Open rebellion began. "Boo hoo, boo hoo!" "Ssho boy! You gwine wake Bray, an' den he's jes es sho' es sho' kin be ter play dat trick on us dat his Gran' Mammy Dog play'd on ole Miss Race Hoss," remonstrated Phyllis. "Boo hoo, boo hoo, I don't wanter--" "Hush, now! Lawsee! I b'lieve I heahs er race hoss comin' down de road now! You hears him, don't yer?" "Oom hoo!" sobbed the little boy. "Oom hoo?" "Yes, ma'm!" "Well, dat's de way ole Miss Race Hoss soun' when she come er single-footin' down de road, an' seed ole Sis' Cow layin' ov'r in de cornder er de pastur' chewin' her cud, an' talkin' ter ole Sis' Sow, an' Sis' Dog, an' Sis' Cat. She look' in de pastur', she do, an' see Sis' Cow's little calf jes' er jumpin' an' er kickin' out his b'hime legs; so she holler she do: "'Law, Sis' Cow, whatchu doin' wid my little colt ov'r dar?' "Sis' Cow say, 'Law, Miss Race Hoss, you sholy ain't callin' my po' little calf yo' colt?' "Miss Race Hoss say, 'Sis' Cow I sho' is s'prised you can't tell er calf frum one er my fine colts! Jes' look how he's prancin'. I'm gwine jump ov'r dis fence, an' prance 'long side him an' let you see if we ain't 'zackly like.' "Wid dat, she tuck er sorter back-runnin' start, an' jump blip! right in de middle er de pastur'. Sis' Cow's little calf was so proud when Miss Race Hoss 'gun ter caper her fancy steps 'long side him, dat he clean furgit 'es ma, an' try ter fancy step 'long side er Miss Race Hoss down de middle er de field.