“Dey kep' on dis away, twel, twant long fo' dey done save up a right smart pile er fust one thing an' den anudder. De pile got so big dat dey 'gun ter git skeered dat some un ud come 'long whilst dey wus away an' he'p derse'f. Bimeby some er de mo' 'spicious 'mong um up an' say dat somebody bin stealin' fum de provision what dey savin' up ginst hard times. Mr. Jaybird, he coyspon' wid Mr. Crow, an' Mr. Crow he coyspon' wid Miss Chicken Hawk, and Miss Chicken Hawk she coyspon' wid Mr. Eagle, which he was de big buckra er all de birds. An' den dey all coyspon' wid one anudder, an' dey 'low dat dey bleeze ter lef' somebody dar fer ter watch der winter wittles whiles dey er off a-huntin' up mo'. Dey jowered an' jowered a long time, twel, bimeby, Mr. Eagle, he up an' say dat de bes' dey kin do is to 'pint Mr. Owl fer ter keep watch. Mr. Owl he sorter hoot at dis, but 'tain't do no good, kaze de yuthers, dey say dat all Mr. Owl got ter do is ter sleep mo' endurin' er de night an' stay 'wake endurin' er de day. “So, den,” Harbert went on, pausing as if trying to remember the thread of the story, “dey 'pinted Mr. Owl fer ter keep watch, an' dey all flewd off, some one way an' some anudder. Mr. Owl, he tuck his seat, he did, whar he kin take in a right smart stretch er country wid his big eyeball, an' he sot dar right peart. But bimeby he'gun ter git lonesome. Dey want nobody ter talk ter, an' de sun shine so bright dat he bleeze ter shet his eye, an' 'fo' he know what he doin' he wuz a settin' dar noddin' same ez a nigger by a hick'ry fire. Every once in a while he'd ketch hissef an' try ter keep 'wake, but, do what he would, he can't keep his eye open, an' bimeby he snap his mouf like he mad an' den he slapped his head under his wing an' dropped off ter sleep good fashion. Kaze when a bird git his head under his wing hit's des de same ez gwine ter bed an' pullin' de kiver 'roun' yo' years. “Well, suh, dar he wuz, settin' up fast asleep. 'Long in de co'se er de day, Mr. Crow an' Mr. Jaybird, dey struck up wid one annuder out in de woods, an' dey sot down in a popular-tree fer to carry on a confab. Dey done bin coy-spon' wid one anudder an' dey bofe bin pullin' up corn. Mr. Crow'low ter Mr. Jaybird dat he ain't so mighty certain an' shore 'bout Mr. Owl, kaze he mighty sleepy-headed. Wid dat, Mr. Jaybird, he up an' say dat he got dat ve'y idee in his min'. Dey sot dar an' swop talk'bout Mr. Owl, twel, atter while, dey'gree ter go back fer de settlement an' see what Mr. Owl doin'.