Therefore, when he saw that Grandison wished to speak to him he readily
pulled up his horse.
"Mahs'r Morris," said Grandison, removing his hat, "Brudder 'Bijah an'
me has been argyin on de subjick ob truf. An' jes' as you was comin' up
I was gwine ter tell him a par'ble 'bout sticken ter truf. An' if you's
got time, Mahs'r Morris, I'd be pow'ful glad ter tell you de par'ble,
an' let you 'cide 'tween us."
"Very well," said Mr. Morris, "go on with your parable."
"Dis yere par'ble," said Grandison, "has got a justifyin' meanin' in it,
an' it's 'bout a bar an' a' possum. De 'possum he was a-gwine out early
in de mawnin' ter git a little corn fur his breakfus'--"
"Very wrong in the opossum," said Mr. Morris, "for I am sure he hadn't
planted any corn."
"Well, den, sah," said Grandison, "p'raps 'twas akerns; but, anyway,
afore he was out ob de woods he see a big, ole bar a-comin' straight
'long to him. De 'possum he ain't got no time ter climb a tree an' git
out on de leetlest end ob a long limb, an' so he lay hese'f flat down on
de groun' an' make b'lieve he's dead. When de ole bar came up he sot
down an' look at de 'possum. Fus' he turn his head on one side an' den
he turn his head on de udder, but he look at de 'possum all de time.
D'reckly he gits done lookin' an' he says:
"'Look-a-heah, 'possum, is you dead or is you libin'? If you's dead I
won't eat you, fur I neber eats dead critters, but if you's libin' den
I eats you for my breakfus', fur I is bilin' hungry, not havin' had
nuffin sence sun-up but a little smack dat I took afore gwine out inter
de damp air ob de mawnin'.
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