“Well, Billy, I spile dem pants day befo’ yistiddy, which I will tell you boutin, tho’ hits uh composation dat’s ornpleasan’ ter me. Well, I had bin haulin’ cawn all day ter Cap’n Stitchberry’s schooner, de Margaret Jane. I wan’ ter dress up ter teck Susan ter de ’bate at Zion Chuch, so I jes’ fed Crow an’ Ab’ham, tu’n ’em loose, an’ didn’ teck deah yoke off. Fus’ place, dat white steer Crow is dangersome ter projic wid—Uncle Stephen say de gre’tes’ kicker he ebba saw; an’ he say de nite Crow wuz bohn wuz de wus’ nite he ebba saw. Blowin’, dark an’ snowin’—so dark dat’s why dey call him Crow. Uncle Stephen say when uh leetle ca’f he wud kick his ma, ole Snowball, quick ez he wud kick you. So, ’cose I didn’ wan’ dat steer ter kick me big ez he is. I heahd Uncle Silas say one time he wuz plowin’ wid Dove an’ Pigeon—dey wuz de bigges’ an’ strongis’ mules Mars Nickey had. He plow’d up uh yaller-jackets’ nes’, an’ he wuzn’ watchin Dove er Pigeon; he wuz jes’ watchin’ an’ fightin’ dem yaller-jackets. He say he had mos’ wo’ out uh bran’ new straw hat fightin’ ’em, an’ wuz mos’ ’zausted, when dey got on Dove. She gib uh kick, _bof_ huh feet hit him on de haid an’ gib him de haidache all day. An’ dat uh steer name Sampson—an’ he wan’ sech uh pow’ful steer neba—kick him on de haid wid _one_ foot, an’ he haid ache fuh _two_ days. “Well, ez I wuz tellin’ you, I hadn’ mo’n fed Crow an’ Ab’ham, when dat new oberseer, Dan Sharp, cum ’long an’ sez ter me, jes’ ez I wuz startin’ ter see Susan, ‘Why didn’ you teck de yoke of’n dem steers?’ So I say, ‘Kase I fogot hit!’ ‘Well, den,’ he say, ’you lazy roscal, teck hit orf now!’ I wuz all dress up in meh bes’ summer close, an’ I recommembered what you say boutin dat oberseer; so I riz meh haid up an’ say, sassy-like, ‘You roscal yo’sef.’ Billy, wid dat he fairly foam at de mouf, run arfter me fas’ ez uh colt; den I run an’ run, but he gain on me (you see, I had meh shoes on), an’ I wuz so feard gittin’ kotch an’ whupped, da wuz nuffin lef’ fuh me but ter run in de creek, at de mouf ub Haylan’ Branch, up ter meh neck—_wid dem new yaller pants on_. Arfter I had bin in de watah boutin twenty minutes, mebby uh harf hour, long nuff fuh Dan Sharp ter git his bref back, he say, ‘Who uh roscal, you black imp; me er you?’ I sez rite quick, ‘I is!’ Den he say, ‘You kin cum outin de creek.’ Den I tu’n fool, ez hit tu’n out, an’ say, ‘I ain’ gwine ter cum out; I’s gwine ter suffah in heah. I’s gwine ter git de cramps, an’ uh mis’ry in meh back, an’ den go an’ tell Mars Nickey an’ Miss Henrietta how I kotch dem cramps.’ Den Dan Sharp say, ‘Ef’n you gwine ter tell yo’ Mars Nickey an’ Miss Henrietta, den I will keep you in heah tell midnite.’ Den he teck out he watch an’ say, ‘I’ll send de fus’ one ub de chillun dat cum ’long de road fuh meh supper. I ain’ sorry ter stay heah, kase I heah tell ub de dancin’ parties de witches hab in dis branch, an’ I wanter see how long hit will teck ’em ter gib