Instantly the little swollen lips moistened with blubbers, covered first one black ear and then the other. "An' dey got ter pray, too," suggested Mammy. "Now I lay me!" came in broken sniffles. Suddenly throwing up her hands, a look of rapture on her face, Mammy shouted: "Lawsee! I b'lieve I heahs you snifflin'!" She listened carefully: "I does! Tell Mammy you loves her an' lemme see ef I kin heah you." "I loves--" began the little boy, nestling in her arms. "'Cose I kin heah, but I tell yer de Lawd ain' gwine ter notice yo' pray'rs no mo', ef you keeps letting de '_pig chile part_' er you come out." "I don't want ter be er pig chile!" "I don't speck you does, but you sho' 'pear terday like you come straight up fum de pigsty! Don't you 'member dat party Miss Race Hoss giv' an' 'vite Sis' Sow an' her chilluns ter come ter it?" Willis shook his head. "Look er hear boy, who you shakin' dat head at?" "I says, no, ma'm!" "You'se late in de day sayin' it, too. Enyhow, Miss Race Hoss giv' er party an' 'vite Sis' Cat an' her chilluns, an' Sis' Dog an' her chilluns, an' Sis' Cow an' de lit'le calf; an' she sorter pass conversation wid Mist'r Race Hoss 'bout 'vitin' Sis' Sow an' her fambly. Mist'r Race Hoss say long as he's in pol'ticks an' want ter git 'lected ergin ter be ruler er de beastes, he speck she bett'r 'vite Sis' Sow. So Miss Race Hoss say all right! An' she done it. "Oh, I tell you Miss Race Hoss fix up er fine party! She had mouses fur de cat fambly, an' dey wus nice, fine, live mouses too, an' bones an' meat fur de Dog fambly, an' hot bran mash mixt wid cott'n seed meal fur Sis' Cow's fambly, an' she had buttermilk in er big trauff fur Sis' Sow an' her chilluns. An' she pile apples, an' carrots, an' ev'y sort er thing in de middle er de table. An' she had salt fur dem dat wants salt, an' sugar fur dem whut mus' have sugar. "Well, de fuss uns ter come wus Sis' Cat an' her chilluns. Sis' Cat had done wash' her kittens' faces jes' es clean an' put dem mitt'ns on 'em dat yo' ma read ter us erbout. "Den hyah come Sis' Dog an' her fambly. Dey all had bows 'roun' der necks an' look mouty gran'! Sis' Cow an' de calf wus curri'd slick es glass, an' I tell yer Miss Race Hoss wus glad her an' de little colt had dem ribbins tied up in der manes, 'caze Sis' Cow was sho' pressin' 'em in slickness. "Ole Brer Bar he come down fum de woods ter 'tend ter de dinin' room an' see dat ev'ybody git de right vit'als. "Atter dey bin waitin' fer er spell, Brer Bar 'nounce dat soon es Sis' Sow come de party wus ready. "All uv 'em want ter go ter eatin' dat minit, 'caze dem cats smell dem mouses, an' dem dogs moufs jes' er dreanin' wid de smell er dat meat; but dey sets dar like dey done fergit all erbout vit'als, 'caze dese heah wus qual'ty animals wid manners, I tell yer.