Mammy wore a dark-blue print dress with white figures on it, but as she was one of the good old sort, she had a plaid handkerchief tied turban fashion round her head.

As she talked she rolled her eyes and waved her hands a good deal, and her words had a soft comfortable sound like molasses pouring out of a big stone jug.
"Does I know de mockin'bird, I reck'n so--'bout de fust t'ing I did know, 'cept how ter suck sugar-cane.

Sugar-cane am good eatin' long in de 'arly fall, but de Mocker ain't doin' much singin' dese yer times, least not 'less he's in a cage in a good sunshiny place.

He am a kind ob a peart gray bird, darker in some places, lighter in oders, and clean as a parson.

But come 'long spring and time for droppin' de cottin seed, de Mocker he know mighty well what's a-doin'.