'Boy liked it best uv all things.' I guessed everything I could think of, from cookies to beefsteak, and gave up.
'Gingerbread,' said he, soberly, at length.
'Thought ye said bears couldn't talk,' I objected.
'Wall, the boy 'd fell asleep an' he'd only dreamed o' the bear,' said Uncle Eb.

'Ye see, bears can talk when boys are dreamin' uv 'em.

Come daylight, the boy got up 'n ketched a crow.

Broke his wing with the cross-gun.

Then he tied the kite swing on t' the crow's leg, an' the crow flopped along 'n the boy followed him 'n bime bye they come out a cornfield, where the crow'd been used t' comin' fer his dinner.' 'What 'come o' the boy ?' said I.
'Went home,' said he, gaping, as he lay on his back and looked up at the tree-tops.