Once on a time, ‘way down South, there lived a little boy named Hannibal, Li’l’ Hannibal. He lived along with his gran’mammy and his gran’daddy in a li’l’ one-story log cabin that was set right down in a cotton field. Well, from morning until night, Li’l’ Hannibal’s gran’mammy kept him toting things. As soon as he woke up in the morning it was:

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, fetch a pine knot and light the kitchen fire.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, fetch the teakettle to the well and get some water for the tea.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, mix a li’l’ hoecake for your gran’daddy’s brea’fus’.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, take the bunch of 98turkeys’ feathers and dust the ashes off the hearth.”

And from morning until night, Li’l’ Hannibal’s gran’daddy kept him toting things, too.

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal,” his gran’daddy would say, “fetch the corn and feed the turkeys.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, take your li’l’ ax and chop some lightwood for gran’mammy’s fire.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, run ‘round to the store and buy a bag of flour.”

“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, fetch your basket and pick a li’l’ cotton off the edge of the field.”

So they kept poor little Hannibal toting ‘most all day long, and he had only four or five hours to play.

Well, one morning when Li’l’ Hannibal woke up, he made up his mind to something. Before they could ask him to light the kitchen fire, or fill the teakettle, or mix the hoecake, or dust the hearth, or feed the turkeys, or chop any wood, or go to the store, or pick any cotton, he had made up his mind that he was not going to tote for his gran’mammy and 99his gran’daddy any longer. He was going to run away!

So Li’l’ Hannibal got out of bed very quietly. He put on his li’l’ trousers, and his li’l’ shirt, and his li’l’ suspenders, and his li’l’ shoes—he never wore stockings. He pulled his li’l’ straw hat down tight over his ears, and then Li’l’ Hannibal ran away!

He went down the road past all the cabins. He went under the fence and across the cotton fields. He went through the pine grove past the schoolhouse, stooping down low—so the schoolmistress couldn’t see him—and then he went ‘way, ‘way off into the country.

When he was a long way from town, Li’l’ Hannibal met a possum loping along by the edge of the road, and the possum stopped and looked at Li’l’ Hannibal.

“How do? Where you goin’, Li’l’ Hannibal?” asked the possum.

Li’l’ Hannibal sat down by the side of the road and took off his straw hat to fan himself, for he felt quite warm, and he said,

“I done run away, Br’er Possum, my gran’mammy 100and my gran’daddy kept me totin’, totin’ for them all the time. I don’t like to work, Br’er Possum.”

“Po’ Li’l’ Hannibal!” said the possum, sitting up and scratching himself. “Any special place you bound for?”

“I don’t reckon so,” said Li’l’ Hannibal, for he was getting tired, and he had come away without any breakfast.

“You come along with me, Li’l’ Hannibal,” said the possum; “I reckon I kin take you somewhere.”

So the possum and Li’l’ Hannibal went along together, the possum loping along by the side of the road and Li’l’ Hannibal going very slowly in the middle of the road, for his shoes were full of sand and it hurt his toes. They went on and on until they came, all at once, to a sort of open space in the woods and then they stopped. There was a big company there—Br’er Rabbit and Br’er Partridge, and Br’er Jay Bird and Br’er Robin, and Ol’ Miss Guinea Hen.

“Here’s po’ Li’l’ Hannibal come to see 101you,” said the possum. “Li’l’ Hannibal done run away from his gran’mammy and gran’daddy.&r............