Uncle Remus
by
Joel Chandler Harris

Part 2 out of 4




XV. MR. FOX GOES A-HUNTING, BUT MR. RABBIT BAGS THE GAME

"ATTER Brer Fox hear 'bout how Brer Rabbit done Brer Wolf,"
said Uncle Remus, scratching his head with the point of his awl,
'he 'low, he did, dat he better not be so brash, en he sorter let
Brer Rabbit 'lone. Dey wuz all time seein' one nudder, en
'bunnunce er times Brer Fox could er nab Brer Rabbit, but eve'y
time he got de chance, his mine 'ud sorter rezume 'bout Brer
Wolf, en he let Brer Rabbit 'lone. Bimeby dey 'gun ter git kinder
familious wid wunner nudder like dey useter, en it got so Brer
Fox'd call on Brer Rabbit, en dey'd set up en smoke der pipes,
dey would, like no ha'sh feelin's 'd ever rested 'twixt um.

"Las', one day Brer Fox come 'long all rig out, en ax Brer Rabbit
fer ter go huntin' wid 'im, but Brer Rabbit, he sorter feel lazy,
en he tell Brer Fox dat he got some udder fish fer ter fry. Brer
Fox feel mighty sorry, he did, but he say he bleeve he try his
han' enny how, en off he put. He wuz gone all day, en he had a
monstus streak er luck, Brer Fox did, en he bagged a sight er
game. Bimeby, to'rds de shank er de evenin', Brer Rabbit sorter
stretch hisse'f, he did, en 'low hit's mos' time fer Brer Fox fer
ter git 'long home. Den Brer Rabbit, he went'n mounted a stump
fer ter see ef he could year Brer Fox comin'. He ain't bin dar
long, twel sho' enuff, yer come Brer Fox thoo de woods, singing
like a nigger at a frolic. Brer Rabbit, he lipt down off'n de
stump, he did, en lay down in de road en make like he dead. Brer
Fox he come 'long, he did, en see Brer Rabbit layin' dar. He tu'n
'im over, he did, en 'zamine 'im, en say, sezee:

"'Dish yer rabbit dead. He look like he bin dead long time. He
dead, but he mighty fat. He de fattes' rabbit w'at I ever see,
but he bin dead too long. I feard ter take 'im home,' sezee.

"Brer Rabbit ain't sayin' nuthin'. Brer Fox, he sorter lick his
chops, but he went on en lef' Brer Rabbit layin' in de road.
Dreckly he wuz outer sight, Brer Rabbit, he jump up, he did, en
run roun' thoo de Woods en git befo Brer Fox agin. Brer Fox, he
come up, en dar lay Brer Rabbit, periently col' en stiff. Brer
Fox, he look at Brer Rabbit, en he sorter study. Atter while he
onslung his game-bag, en say ter hisse'f, sezee:

"'Deze yer rabbits gwine ter was'e. I'll des 'bout leave my game
yer, en I'll go back'n git dat udder rabbit, en I'll make fokes
b'leeve dat I'm ole man Hunter fum Huntsville,' sezee.

"En wid dat he drapt his game en loped back up de road atter de
udder rabbit, en w'en he got outer sight, ole Brer Rabbit, he
snatch up Brer Fox game en put out fer home. Nex' time he see
Brer Fox he holler out:

"'What you kill de udder day, Brer Fox?' sezee.

"Den Brer Fox, he sorter koam his flank wid his tongue, en holler
back:

"'I kotch a han'ful er hard sense, Brer Rabbit,' sezee.

"Den ole Brer Rabbit, he laff, he did, en up en 'spon', sezee:
'Ef I'd a know'd you wuz atter dat, Brer Fox, I'd a loant you
some er mine,' sezee."


XVI. OLD MR. RABBIT, HE'S A GOOD FISHERMAN

"BRER RABBIT en Brer Fox wuz like some chilluns w'at I knows
un," said Uncle Remus, regarding the little boy, who had come to
hear another story, with an affectation of great solemnity. "Bofe
un um wuz allers atter wunner nudder, a prankin' en a pesterin'
'roun', but Brer Rabbit did had some peace, kaze Brer Fox done
got skittish 'bout puttin' de clamps on Brer Rabbit.

"One day, w'en Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Coon, en Brer
B'ar, en a whole lot un um wuz clearin' up a new groun' fer ter
plant a roas'n'-year patch, de sun gun ter git sorter hot, en
Brer Rabbit he got tired; but he didn't let on, kaze he fear'd de
balance un um'd call 'im lazy, en he keep on totin' off trash en
pilin' up bresh, twel bimeby he holler out dat he gotter brier in
his han', en den he take'n slip off, en hunt fer cool place fer
ter res'. Atter w'ile he come crosst a well wid a bucket hangin'
in it.

"'Dat look cool,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en cool I speck she
is. I'll des 'bout git in dar en take a nap,' en wid dat in he
jump, he did, en he ain't no sooner fix hisse'f dan de bucket
'gun ter go down."

"Wasn't the Rabbit scared, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy.

"Honey, dey ain't been no wusser skeer'd beas' sence de worl'
begin dan dish yer same Brer Rabbit. He fa'rly had a agur. He
know whar he cum fum, but he dunner whar he gwine. Dreckly he
feel de bucket hit de water, en dar she sot, but Brer Rabbit he
keep mighty still, kaze he dunner w'at minnit gwineter be de
nex'. He des lay dar en shuck en shiver.

"Brer Fox allers got one eye on Brer Rabbit, en w'en he slip off
fum de new groun', Brer Fox he sneak atter 'im. He know Brer
Rabbit wuz atter some projick er nudder, en he tuck'n crope off,
he did, en watch 'im. Brer Fox see Brer Rabbit come to de well en
stop, en den he see 'im jump in de bucket, en den, lo en behol's,
he see 'im go down outer sight. Brer Fox wuz de mos' 'stonish Fox
dat you ever laid eyes on. He sot off dar in de bushes en study
en study, but he don't make no head ner tails ter dis kinder
bizness. Den he say ter hisse'f, sezee:

"'Well, ef dis don't bang my times,' sezee, 'den Joe's dead en
Sal's a widder. Right down dar in dat well Brer Rabbit keep his
money hid, en ef 'tain't dat den he done gone en 'skiver'd a
gole-mine, en ef 'tain't dat, den I'm a gwineter see w'at's in
dar,' sezee.

"Brer Fox crope up little nigher, he did, en lissen, but he don't
year no fuss, en he keep on gittin' nigher, en yit he don't year
nuthin'. Bimeby he git up close en peep down, but he don't see
nuthin' en he don't year nuthin'. All dis time Brer Rabbit mighty
nigh skeer'd outen his skin, en he fear'd fer ter move kaze de
bucket might keel over en spill him out in de water. W'ile he
sayin' his pra'rs over like a train er kyars runnin', ole Brer
Fox holler out:

"'Heyo, Brer Rabbit! Who you wizzitin' down dar?' sezee.

"'Who? Me? Oh, I'm des a fishin', Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit,
sezee. 'I des say ter myse'f dat I'd sorter sprize you all wid a
mess er fishes fer dinner, en so here I is, en dar's de fishes.
I'm a fishin' fer suckers, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"'Is dey many un um down dar, Brer Rabbit?' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'Lots un um, Brer Fox; scoze en scoze un um. De water is
natchully 'live wid um. Come down en he'p me haul um in, Brer
Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"'How I gwineter git down, Brer Rabbit?'

"'Jump inter de bucket, Brer Fox. Hit'll fetch you down all safe
en soun'.'

"Brer Rabbit talk so happy en talk so sweet dat Brer Fox he jump
in de bucket, he did, en, ez he went down, co'se his weight pull
Brer Rabbit up. W'en dey pass one nudder on de half-way growl',
Brer Rabbit he sing out:

"'Good-by, Brer Fox, take keer yo' cloze,
Fer dis is de way de worl' goes;
Some goes up en some goes down,
You'll git ter de bottom all safe en soun'.' *1

"W'en Brer Rabbit got out, he gallop off en tole de fokes w'at de
well blong ter dat Brer Fox wuz down in dar muddyin' up de
drinkin' water, en den he gallop back ter de well, en holler down
ter Brer Fox:

"'Ye come a man wid a great big gun--W'en he haul you up, you
jump en run."'

"What then, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, as the old man
paused.

"In des 'bout half 'n hour, honey, bofe un um wuz back in de new
groun' wukkin' des like dey never heer'd er no well, ceppin' dat
eve'y now'n den Brer Rabbit'd bust out in er laff, en old Brer
Fox, he'd git a spell er de dry grins."

*1 As a Northern friend suggests that this story may be somewhat
obscure, it may be as well to state that the well is supposed
to be supplied with a rope over a wheel, or pulley, with a
bucket at each end.


XVII. MR. RABBIT NIBBLES UP THE BUTTER

'"DE animils en de creeturs," said Uncle Remus, shaking his
coffee around in the bottom of his tin-cup, in order to gather up
all the sugar, 'dey kep' on gittin' mo' en mo' familious wid
wunner nudder, twel bimeby, 'twan't long 'fo' Brer Rabbit, en
Brer Fox, en Brer Possum got ter sorter bunchin' der perwishuns
tergedder in de same shanty. Atter w'ile de roof sorter 'gun ter
leak, en one day Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Possum,
'semble fer ter see ef dey can't kinder patch her up. Dey had a
big day's work in front un um, en dey fotch der dinner wid um.
Dey lump de vittles up in one pile, en de butter w'at Brer Fox
brung, dey goes en puts in de spring-'ouse fer ter keep cool, en
den dey went ter wuk, en 'twan't long 'fo' Brer Rabbit's stummuck
'gun ter sorter growl en pester 'im. Dat butter er Brer Fox sot
heavy on his mine, en his mouf water eve'y time he 'member 'bout
it. Present'y he say ter hisse'f dat he bleedzd ter have a nip at
dat butter, en den he lay his plans, he did. Fus' news you know,
w'ile dey wuz all wukkin' long, Brer Rabbit raise his head quick
en fling his years forerd en holler out:

"'Here I is. W'at you want wid me?' en off he put like sump'n wuz
atter 'im.

"He sallied 'roun', ole Brer Rabbit did, en atter he make sho dat
nobody ain't foller'n un 'im, inter de spring-'ouse he bounces,
en dar he stays twel he git a bait er butter. Den he santer on
back en go to wuk.

"'Whar you bin?' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'I hear my chilluns callin' me,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I
hatter go see w'at dey want. My ole 'oman done gone en tuck
mighty sick,' sezee.

"Dey wuk on twel bimeby de butter tas'e so good dat ole Brer
Rabbit want some mo'. Den he raise up his head, he did, en holler
out:

"'Heyo! Hol' on! I'm a comin'!' en off he put.

"Dis time he stay right smart w'ile, en w'en he git back Brer Fox
ax him whar he bin.

"'I been ter see my ole 'oman, en she's a sinkin',' sezee.

"Dreckly Brer Rabbit hear um callin' 'im ag'in en off he goes, en
dis time, bless yo' soul, he gits de butter out so clean dat he
kin see hisse'f in de bottom er de bucket. He scrape it clean en
lick it dry, en den he go back ter wuk lookin' mo' samer dan a
nigger w'at de patter-rollers bin had holt un.

"'How's yo' ole 'oman dis time?' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'I'm oblije ter you, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'but I'm
fear'd she's done gone by now,' en dat sorter make Brer Fox en
Brer Possum feel in mo'nin' wid Brer Rabbit.

"Bimeby, w'en dinner-time come, dey all got out der vittles, but
Brer Rabbit keep on lookin' lonesome, en Brer Fox en Brer Possum
dey sorter rustle roun' fer ter see ef dey can't make Brer Rabbit
feel sorter splimmy."

"What is that, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy.

"Sorter splimmy-splammy, honey--sorter like he in a crowd--sorter
like his ole 'oman ain't dead ez she mout be. You know how fokes
duz w'en dey gits whar people's a moanin'."

The little boy didn't know, fortunately for him, and Uncle Remus
went on:

"Brer Fox en Brer Possum rustle roun', dey did, gittin out de
vittles, en bimeby Brer Fox, he say, sezee:

"'Brer Possum, you run down ter de spring en fetch de butter, en
I'll sail 'roun' yer en set de table,' sezee.

"Brer Possum, he lope off atter de butter, en dreckly here he
come lopin' back wid his years a trimblin' en his tongue a
hangin' out. Brer Fox, he holler out:

"'W'at de matter now, Brer Possum?' sezee.

"'You all better run yer, fokes,' sez Brer Possum, sezee. 'De
las' drap er dat butter done gone!'

"'Whar she gone?' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'Look like she dry up,' sez Brer Possum, sezee.

"Den Brer Rabbit, he look sorter sollum, he did, en he up'n say,
sezee.

"'I speck dat butter melt in somebody mouf,' sezee. Den dey went
down ter de spring wid Brer Possum, en sho nuff de butter done
gone. W'iles dey wuz sputin' over de wunderment, Brer Rabbit say
he see tracks all 'roun' dar, en he p'int out dat ef dey'll all
go ter sleep, he kin ketch de chap w'at stole de butter. Den dey
all lie down en Brer Fox en Brer Possum dey soon drapt off ter
sleep, but Brer Rabbit he stay 'wake, en w'en de time come he
raise up easy en smear Brer Possum mouf wid de butter on his
paws, en den he run off en nibble up de bes' er de dinner w'at
dey lef' layin' out, en den he come back en wake up Brer Fox, en
show 'im de butter on Brer Possum mouf. Den dey wake up Brer
Possum, en tell 'im 'bout it, but c'ose Brer Possum 'ny it ter de
las'. Brer Fox, dough, he's a kinder lawyer, en he argafy dis
way--dat Brer Possum wuz de fus one at de butter, en de fus one
fer ter miss it, en mo'n dat, dar hang de signs on his mouf. Brer
Possum see dat dey got 'im jammed up in a cornder, en den he up
en say dat de way fer ter ketch de man w'at stole de butter is
ter b'il' a big bresh-heap en set her afier, en all han's try ter
jump over, en de one w'at fall in, den he de chap w'at stole de
butter. Brer Rabbit en Brer Fox dey is bofe 'gree, dey did, en
dey whirl in en b'il' de breshheap, en dey b'il' her high en dey
b'il' her wide, en den dey totch her off. W'en she got ter
blazin' up good, Brer Rabbit, he tuck de fus turn. He sorter step
back, en look 'roun' en giggle, en over he went mo' samer dan a
bird flyin'. Den come Brer Fox. He got back little fudder, en
spit on his han's, en lit out en made de jump, en he come so nigh
gittin' in dat de een' er his tail kotch afier. Ain't you never
see no fox, honey?" inquired Uncle Remus, in a tone that implied
both conciliation and information.

The little boy thought probably he had, but he wouldn't commit
himself.

"Well, den," continued the old man, "nex' time you see one un um,
you look right close en see ef de een' er his tail ain't w'ite.
Hit's des like I tell you. Dey b'ars de skyar er dat bresh-heap
down ter dis day. Dey er marked--dat's w'at dey is--dey er
marked."

"And what about Brother Possum?" asked the little boy.

"Ole Brer Possum, he tuck a runnin' start, he did, en he come
lumberin' 'long, en he lit--kerblam!--right in de middle er de
fier, en dat wuz de las' er ole Brer Possum."

"But, Uncle Remus, Brother Possum didn't steal the butter after
all," said the little boy, who was not at all satisfied with such
summary injustice.

"Dat w'at make I say w'at I duz, honey. In dis worl', lots er
fokes is gotter suffer fer udder fokes sins. Look like hit's
mighty wrong; but hit's des dat away. Tribbalashun seem like
she's a waitin' roun' de cornder fer ter ketch one en all un us,
honey."


XVIII. MR. RABBIT FINDS HIS MATCH AT LAST

"HIT look like ter me dat I let on de udder night dat in dem days
w'en de creeturs wuz santer'n 'roun' same like fokes, none un um
wuz brash nuff fer ter ketch up wid Brer Rabbit," remarked Uncle
Remus, reflectively.

"Yes," replied the little boy, "that's what you said."

"Well, den," continued the old man with unction, "dar's whar my
'membunce gin out, kaze Brer Rabbit did git kotched up wid, en
hit cool 'im off like po'in' spring water on one er deze yer
biggity fices."

"How was that, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy.

"One day w'en Brer Rabbit wuz gwine lippity-clippitin' down de
road, he meet up wid ole Brer Tarrypin, en atter dey pass de time
er day wid wunner nudder, Brer Rabbit, he 'low dat he wuz much
'blije ter Brer Tarrypin fer de han' he tuck in de rumpus dat day
down at Miss Meadows's."

"When he dropped off of the water-shelf on the Fox's head,"
suggested the little boy.

"Dat's de same time, honey. Den Brer Tarrypin 'low dat Brer Fox
run mighty fas' dat day, but dat ef he'd er bin atter 'im stidder
Brer Rabbit, he'd er kotch 'im. Brer Rabbit say he could er kotch
'im hisse'f but he didn't keer 'bout leavin' de ladies. Dey keep
on talkin', dey did, twel bimeby dey gotter 'sputin' 'bout w'ich
wuz de swif'es'. Brer Rabbit, he say he kin outrun Brer Tarrypin,
en Brer Tarrypin, he des vow dat he kin outrun Brer Rabbit. Up en
down dey had it, twel fus news you know Brer Tarrypin say he got
a fifty-dollar bill in de chink er de chimbly at home, en dat
bill done tole 'im dat he could beat Brer Rabbit in a fa'r race.
Den Brer Rabbit say he got a fifty-dollar bill w'at say dat he
kin leave Brer Tarrypin so fur behime, dat he could sow barley ez
he went long en hit 'ud be ripe nuff fer ter cut by de time Brer
Tarrypin pass dat way.

"Enny how dey make de bet en put up de money, en old Brer Tukkey
Buzzard, he wuz summonzd fer ter be de jedge, en de stakeholder;
en 'twan't long 'fo' all de 'rangements wuz made. De race wuz a
five-mile heat, en de groun' wuz medjud off, en at de een' er
eve'y mile a pos' wuz stuck up. Brer Rabbit wuz ter run down de
big road, en Brer Tarrypin, he say he'd gallup thoo de woods.
Fokes tole 'im he could git long faster in de road, but ole Brer
Tarrypin, he know w'at he doin'. Miss Meadows en de gals en mos'
all de nabers got win' er de fun, en wen de day wuz sot dey
'termin' fer ter be on han'. Brer Rabbit he train hisse'f eve'y
day, en he skip over de groun' des ez gayly ez a June cricket.
Ole Brer Tarrypin, he lay low in de swamp. He had a wife en th'ee
chilluns, old Brer Tarrypin did, en dey wuz all de ve'y spit en
image er de ole man. Ennybody w'at know one fum de udder gotter
take a spy-glass, en den dey er li'ble fer ter git fooled.

"Dat's de way marters stan' twel de day er de race, en on dat
day, ole Brer Tarrypin, en his ole 'oman, en his th'ee chilluns,
dey got up 'fo' sun-up, en went ter de place. De ole 'oman, she
tuck 'er stan' nigh de fus' mile-pos', she did, en de chilluns
nigh de udders, up ter de las', en dar old Brer Tarrypin, he tuck
his stan'. Bimeby, here come de fokes: Jedge Buzzard, he come, en
Miss Meadows en de gals, dey come, en den yer come Brer Rabbit
wid ribbons tied 'roun' his neck en streamin' fum his years. De
fokes all went ter de udder een' er de track fer ter see how dey
come out. W'en de time come Jedge Buzzard strut 'roun' en pull
out his watch, en holler out:

"'Gents, is you ready?'

"Brer Rabbit, he say 'yes,' en old Miss Tarrypin holler 'go' fum
de aidge er de woods. Brer Rabbit, he lit out on de race, en old
Miss Tarrypin, she put out for home. Jedge Buzzard, he riz en
skimmed long fer ter see dat de race wuz runned fa'r. W'en Brer
Rabbit got ter de fus' mile-pos' wunner de Tarrypin chilluns
crawl out de woods, he did, en make fer de place. Brer Rabbit, he
holler out:

"'Whar is you, Brer Tarrypin?'

"'Yer I come a bulgin',' sez de Tarrypin, sezee.

"Brer Rabbit so glad he's ahead dat he put out harder dan ever,
en de Tarrypin, he make fer home. W'en he come ter de nex' pos',
nudder Tarrypin crawl out er de woods.

"'Whar is you, Brer Tarrypin?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"'Yer I come a bilin',' sez de Tarrypin, sezee.

"Brer Rabbit, he lit out, he did, en come ter nex' pos', en dar
wuz de Tarrypin. Den he come ter nex', en dar wuz de Tarrypin.
Den he had one mo' mile fer ter run, en he feel like he gittin'
bellust. Bimeby, ole Brer Tarrypin look way off down de road en
he see Jedge Buzzard sailin' long en he know hit's time fer 'im
fer ter be up. So he scramble outen de woods, en roll 'cross de
ditch, en shuffle thoo de crowd er folks en git ter de mile-pos'
en crawl behime it. Bimeby, fus' news you know, yer come Brer
Rabbit. He look 'roun' en he don't see Brer Tarrypin, en den he
squall out:

"'Gimme de money, Brer Buzzard, Gimme de money!'

"Den Miss Meadows en de gals, dey holler and laff fit ter kill
deyse'f, en ole Brer Tarrypin, he raise up fum behime de
pos' en sez, sezee:

"'Ef you'll gimme time fer ter ketch my breff, gents en ladies,
one en all, I speck I'll finger dat money myse'f,' sezee, en sho
nuff, Brer Tarrypin tie de pu's 'roun' his neck en skaddle*1 off
home."

"But, Uncle Remus," said the little boy, dolefully, "that was
cheating."

"Co'se, honey. De creeturs 'gun ter cheat, en den fokes tuck it
up, en hit keep on spreadin'. Hit mighty ketchin', en you mine
yo' eye, honey, dat somebody don't cheat you 'fo' yo' ha'r git
gray ez de ole nigger's."

*1 It may he interesting to note here that in all probability the
word "skedaddle," about which there was some controversy during
the war, came from the Virginia negro's use of "skaddle," which
is a corruption of "scatter." The matter, however, is hardly
worth referring to.


XIX. THE FATE OF MR. JACK SPARROW

"You'll tromple on dat bark twel hit won't be fitten fer ter
fling 'way, let 'lone make hoss-collars out'n," said Uncle Remus,
as the little boy came running into his cabin out of the rain.
All over the floor long strips of "wahoo" bark were spread, and
these the old man was weaving into horse-collars.

"I'll sit down, Uncle Remus," said the little boy.

"Well, den, you better, honey," responded the old man, "kaze I
'spizes fer ter have my wahoo trompled on. Ef 'twuz shucks, now,
hit mout be diffunt, but I'm a gittin' too ole fer ter be
projickin' 'longer shuck collars."

For a few minutes the old man went on with his work, but with a
solemn air altogether unusual. Once or twice he sighed deeply,
and the sighs ended in a prolonged groan, that seemed to the
little boy to be the result of the most unspeakable mental agony.
He knew by experience that he had done something which failed to
meet the approval of Uncle Remus, and he tried to remember what
it was, so as to frame an excuse; but his memory failed him. He
could think of nothing he had done calculated to stir Uncle
Remus's grief. He was not exactly seized with remorse, but he was
very uneasy. Presently Uncle Remus looked at him in a sad and
hopeless way and asked:

"W'at dat long rigmarole you bin tellin' Miss Sally 'bout yo'
little brer dis mawnin?"

"Which, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, blushing guiltily.

"Dat des w'at I'm a axin' un you now. I hear Miss Sally say she's
a gwineter stripe his jacket, en den I knowed you bin tellin' on
'im."

"Well, Uncle Remus, he was pulling up your onions, and then he
went and flung a rock at me, said the child, plaintively.

"Lemme tell you dis," said the old man, laying down the section
of horse-collar he had been plaiting, and looking hard at the
little boy--"lemme tell you dis der ain't no way fer ter make
tattlers en tailb'arers turn out good. No, dey ain't. I bin
mixin' up wid fokes now gwine on eighty year, en I ain't seed no
tattler come ter no good een'. Dat I ain't. En ef ole man
M'thoozlum wuz livin' clean twel yit, he'd up'n tell you de same.
Sho ez you er settin' dar. You 'member w'at 'come er de bird w'at
went tattlin' 'roun' 'bout Brer Rabbit?"

The little boy didn't remember, but he was very anxious to know,
and he also wanted to know what kind of a bird it was that so
disgraced itself.

"Hit wuz wunner dese yer uppity little Jack Sparrers, I speck,"
said the old man; "dey wuz allers bodder'n' longer udder
fokes's bizness, en dey keeps at it down ter dis day--peckin'
yer, en pickin' dar, en scratchin' out yander. One day, atter he
bin fool by ole Brer Tarrypin, Brer Rabbit wuz settin' down in de
woods studyin' how he wuz gwineter git even. He feel mighty
lonesome, en he feel mighty mad, Brer Rabbit did. Tain't put down
in de tale, but I speck he cusst en r'ar'd 'roun' considerbul.
Leas'ways, he wuz settin' out dar by hisse'f, en dar he sot, en
study en study, twel bimeby he jump up en holler out:

"'Well, dog-gone my cats ef I can't gallop 'roun' ole Brer Fox,
en I'm gwineter do it. I'll show Miss Meadows en de gals dat I'm
de boss er Brer Fox,' sezee.

"Jack Sparrer up in de tree, he hear Brer Rabbit, he did, en he
sing out:

"'I'm gwine tell Brer Fox! I'm gwine tell Brer Fox!
Chick-a-biddy-win'-a-blowin'-acuns-fallin'! I'm gwine tell Brer
Fox!"'

Uncle Remus accompanied the speech of the bird with a peculiar
whistling sound in his throat, that was a marvelous imitation of
a sparrow's chirp, and the little boy clapped his hands with
delight, and insisted on a repetition.

"Dis kinder tarrify Brer Rabbit, en he skasely know w'at he gwine
do; but bimeby he study ter hisse'f dat de man w'at see Brer Fox
fus wuz boun' ter have de inturn, en den he go hoppin' off to'rds
home. He didn't got fur w'en who should he meet but Brer Fox, en
den Brer Rabbit, he open up:

"'W'at dis twix' you en me, Brer Fox?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'I
hear tell you gwine ter sen' me ter 'struckshun, en nab my
fambly, en 'stroy my shanty,' sezee.

"'Den Brer Fox he git mighty mad. 'Who bin tellin' you all dis?'
sezee.

"Brer Rabbit make like he didn't want ter tell, but Brer Fox he
'sist en 'sist, twel at las' Brer Rabbit he up en tell Brer Fox
dat he hear Jack Sparrer say all dis.

"'Co'se,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'w'en Brer Jack Sparrer tell me
dat I flew up, I did, en I use some langwidge w'ich I'm mighty
glad dey weren't no ladies 'round' nowhars so dey could hear me
go on, sezee.

"Brer Fox he sorter gap, he did, en say he speck he better be
sa'nter'n on. But, bless yo' soul, honey, Brer Fox ain't sa'nter
fur, 'fo' Jack Sparrer flipp down on a 'simmon-bush by de side er
de road, en holler out:

"'Brer Fox! Oh, Brer Fox!--Brer Fox!'

"Brer Fox he des sorter canter long, he did, en make like he
don't hear 'im. Den Jack Sparrer up'n sing out agin:

"'Brer Fox! Oh, Brer Fox! Hol' on, Brer Fox! I got some news fer
you. Wait Brer Fox! Hit'll 'stonish you.'

"Brer Fox he make like he don't see Jack Sparrer, ner needer do
he hear 'im, but bimeby he lay down by de road, en sorter stretch
hisse'f like he fixin' fer ter nap. De tattlin' Jack Sparrer he
flew'd 'long, en keep on callin' Brer Fox, but Brer Fox, he ain't
sayin' nuthin'. Den little Jack Sparrer, he hop down on de groun'
en flutter 'roun' 'mongst de trash. Dis sorter 'track Brer Fox
'tenshun, en he look at de tattlin' bird, en de bird he keep on
callin':

"'I got sump'n fer ter tell you, Brer Fox.'

"'Git on my tail, little Jack Sparrer,' sez Brer Fox, sezee,
'kaze I'm de'f in one year, en I can't hear out'n de udder. Git
on my tail,' sezee.

"Den de little bird he up'n hop on Brer Fox's tail.

"'Git on my back, little Jack Sparrer, kaze I'm de'f in one year
en I can't hear out'n de udder.'

"Den de little bird hop on his back.

"'Hop on my head, little Jack Sparrer, kaze I'm de'f in bofe
years.'

"Up hop de little bird.

"'Hop on my toof, little Jack Sparrer, kaze I'm de'f in one year
en I can't hear out'n de udder.'

"De tattlin' little bird hop on Brer Fox's toof, en den--"

Here Uncle Remus paused, opened wide his mouth and closed it
again in a way that told the whole story. *1

"Did the Fox eat the bird all--all up?" asked the little boy.

"Jedge B'ar come long nex' day," replied Uncle Remus, "en he fine
some fedders, en fum dat word went roun' dat ole man Squinch
Owl done kotch nudder watzizname."

*1 An Atlanta friend heard this story in Florida, but an
alligator was substituted for the fox, and a little boy for
the rabbit. There is another version in which the impertinent
gosling goes to tell the fox something her mother has said,
and is caught; and there may be other versions. I have adhered
to the middle Georgia version, which is characteristic enough.
It may be well to state that there are different versions of
all the stories--the shrewd narrators of the mythology of the
old plantation adapting themselves with ready tact to the
years, tastes, and expectations of their juvenile audiences.


XX. HOW MR. RABBIT SAVED HIS MEAT

"ONE time," said Uncle Remus, whetting his knife slowly and
thoughtfully on the palm of his hand, and gazing reflectively in
the fire--"one time Brer Wolf--"

"Why, Uncle Remus!" the little boy broke in, "I thought you said
the Rabbit scalded the Wolf to death a long time ago."

The old man was fairly caught and he knew it; but this made
little difference to him. A frown gathered on his usually serene
brow as he turned his gaze upon the child--a frown in which both
scorn and indignation were visible. Then all at once he seemed to
regain control of himself. The frown was chased away by a look of
Christian resignation.

"Dar now! W'at I tell you?" he exclaimed as if addressing a
witness concealed under the bed. "Ain't I done tole you so? Bless
grashus! ef chilluns ain't gittin' so dey knows mo'n ole fokes,
en dey'll 'spute longer you en 'spute longer you, ceppin' der ma
call um, w'ich I speck 'twon't be long 'fo' she will, en den Ill
set yere by de chimbly-cornder en git some peace er mine. W'en
ole Miss wuz livin'," continued the old man, still addressing
some imaginary person, 'hit 'uz mo'n enny her chilluns 'ud dast
ter do ter come 'sputin' longer me, en Mars John'll tell you de
same enny day you ax 'im."

"Well, Uncle Remus, you know you said the Rabbit poured hot
water on the Wolf and killed him," said the little boy.

The old man pretended not to hear. He was engaged in searching
among some scraps of leather under his chair, and kept on talking
to the imaginary person. Finally, he found and drew forth a
nicely plaited whip-thong with a red snapper all waxed and
knotted.

"I wuz fixin' up a w'ip fer a little chap," he continued, with a
sigh, "but, bless grashus! 'fo' I kin git 'er done de little chap
done grow'd up twel he know mo'n I duz."

The child's eyes filled with tears and his lips began to quiver,
but he said nothing; whereupon Uncle Remus immediately melted.

"I 'clar' to goodness," he said, reaching out and taking the
little boy tenderly by the hand, "ef you ain't de ve'y spit en
image er ole Miss w'en I brung 'er de las' news er de war. Hit's
des like skeerin' up a ghos' w'at you ain't fear'd un."

Then there was a pause, the old man patting the little child's
hand caressingly.

"You ain't mad, is you, honey?" Uncle Remus asked finally, "kaze
ef you is, I'm gwine out yere en butt my head 'gin de do' jam'."

But the little boy wasn't mad. Uncle Remus had conquered him and
he had conquered Uncle Remus in pretty much the same way before.
But it was some time before Uncle Remus would go on with the
story. He had to be coaxed. At last, however, he settled himself
back in the chair and began:

"Co'se, honey, hit mout er bin ole Brer Wolf, er hit mout er bin
er n'er Brer Wolf; it mout er bin 'fo' he got kotch up wid, er it
mout er bin atterwards. Ez de tale wer gun to me des dat away I
gin it unter you. One time Brer Wolf wuz comm' long home fum a
fishin' frolic. He s'anter long de road, he did, wid his string
er fish 'cross his shoulder, w'en fus' news you know ole Miss
Pa'tridge, she hop outer de bushes en flutter long right at Brer
Wolf nose. Brer Wolf he say ter hisse'f dat ole Miss Pa'tridge
tryin' fer ter toll 'im 'way fum her nes', en wid dat he lay his
fish down en put out inter de bushes whar ole Miss Pa'tridge come
fum, en 'bout dat time Brer Rabbit, he happen long. Dar wuz de
fishes, en dar wuz Brer Rabbit, en w'en dat de case w'at you
speck a sorter innerpen'ent man like Brer Rabbit gwine do? I kin
tell you dis, dat dem fishes ain't stay whar Brer Wolf put um at,
en w'en Brer Wolf come back dey wuz gone.

"Brer Wolf, he sot down en scratch his head, he did, en study
en study, en den hit sorter rush inter his mine dat Brer Rabbit
bin 'long dar, en den Brer Wolf, he put out fer Brer Rabbit
house, en w'en he git dar he hail 'im. Brer Rabbit, he dunno
nuthin' tall 'bout no fishes. Brer Wolf he up'n say he bleedzd
ter bleeve Brer Rabbit got dem fishes. Brer Rabbit 'ny it up en
down, but Brer Wolf stan' to it dat Brer Rabbit got dem fishes.
Brer Rabbit, he say dat if Brer Wolf b'leeve he got de fishes,
den he give Brer Wolf lief fer ter kill de bes' cow he got. Brer
Wolf, he tuck Brer Rabbit at his word, en go off ter de pastur'
en drive up de cattle en kill Brer Rabbit bes' cow.

"Brer Rabbit, he hate mighty bad fer ter lose his cow, but he lay
his plans, en he tell his chilluns dat he gwineter have dat beef
yit. Brer Wolf, he bin tuck up by de patter-rollers 'fo' now, en
he mighty skeer'd un um, en fus news you know, yer come Brer
Rabbit hollerin' en tellin' Brer Wolf dat de patter-rollers
comin'.

"'You run en hide, Brer Wolf,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I'll
stay yer en take keer er de cow twel you gits back,' sezee.

"Soon's Brer Wolf hear talk er de patter-rollers, he scramble off
inter de underbrush like he bin shot out'n a gun. En he wa'n't
mo'n gone 'fo' Brer Rabbit, he whirl in en skunt de cow en salt
de hide down, en den he tuck'n cut up de kyarkiss en stow it 'way
in de smoke-'ouse, en den he tuck'n stick de een' er de cow-tail
in de groun'. Atter he gone en done all dis, den Brer Rabbit he
squall out fer Brer Wolf:

"'Run yer, Brer Wolf! Run yer! Yo' cow gwine in de groun'! Run
yer!'

"W'en ole Brer Wolf got dar, w'ich he come er scootin', dar wuz
Brer Rabbit hol'in' on ter de cow-tail, fer ter keep it fum gwine
in de groun'. Brer Wolf, he kotch holt, en dey 'gin a pull er two
en up come de tail. Den Brer Rabbit, he wink his off eye en say,
sezee:

"'Dar! de tail done pull out en de cow gone,' sezee. But Brer
Wolf he wern't de man fer ter give it up dat away, en he got 'im
a spade, en a pick-axe, en a shovel, en he dig en dig fer dat cow
twel diggin' wuz pas' all endu'unce, en ole Brer Rabbit he sot up
dar in his front po'ch en smoke his seegyar. Eve'y time ole Brer
Wolf stuck de pick-axe in de clay, Brer Rabbit, he giggle ter his
chilluns:

"'He diggy, diggy, diggy, but no meat dar! He diggy, diggy,
diggy, but no meat dar!'

"Kase all de time de cow wuz layin' pile up in his smoke-'ouse,
en him en his chilluns wuz eatin' fried beef an inguns eve'y time
dey mouf water.

"Now den, honey, you take dis yer w'ip," continued the old man,
twining the leather thong around the little boy's neck, "en
scamper up ter de big 'ouse en tell Miss Sally fer ter gin you
some un it de nex' time she fine yo' tracks in de sugar-bar'l."


XXI. MR. RABBIT MEETS HIS MATCH AGAIN

"DERE wuz nudder man dat sorter play it sharp on Brer Rabbit,"
said Uncle Remus, as, by some mysterious process, he twisted a
hog's bristle into the end of a piece of thread--an operation
which the little boy watched with great interest. "In dem days,"
continued the old man, "de creeturs kyar'd on marters same ez
fokes. Dey went inter fahmin', en I speck ef de troof wuz ter
come out, dey kep' sto', en had der camp-meetin' times en der
bobbycues w'en de wedder wuz 'greeble."

Uncle Remus evidently thought that the little boy wouldn't like
to hear of any further discomfiture of Brer Rabbit, who had come
to be a sort of hero, and he was not mistaken.

"I thought the Terrapin was the only one that fooled the Rabbit,"
said the little boy, dismally.

"Hit's des like I tell you, honey. Dey ain't no smart man, 'cep'
w'at dey's a smarter. Ef ole Brer Rabbit hadn't er got kotch up
wid, de nabers 'ud er took 'im for a ha'nt, en in dem times dey
bu'nt witches 'fo' you could squinch yo' eyeballs. Dey did dat."

"Who fooled the Rabbit this time?" the little boy asked.

When Uncle Remus had the bristle "sot" in the thread, he
proceeded with the story:

"One time Brer Rabbit en ole Brer Buzzard 'cluded dey'd sorter
go shares, en crap tergedder. Hit wuz a mighty good year, en de
truck tu'n out monstus well, but bimeby, w'en de time come fer
dividjun, hit come ter light dat ole Brer Buzzard ain't got
nuthin'. De crap wuz all gone, en dey want nuthin' dar fer ter
show fer it. Brer Rabbit, he make like he in a wuss fix'n Brer
Buzzard, en he mope 'roun', he did, like he fear'd dey gwineter
sell 'im out.

"Brer Buzzard, he ain't sayin' nuthin', but he keep up a monstus
thinkin', en one day he come 'long en holler en tell Brer Rabbit
dat he done fine rich gol'-mine des 'cross de river.

"'You come en go longer me, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Tukkey
Buzzard, sezee. 'Ill scratch en you kin grabble, en 'tween de two
un us we'll make short wuk er dat gol'-mine,' sezee.

"Brer Rabbit, he wuz high up fer de job, but he study en study,
he did, how he gwineter git 'cross de water, kaze ev'y time he
git his foot wet all de fambly kotch col'. Den he up'n ax Brer
Buzzard how he gwine do, en Brer Buzzard he up'n say dat he kyar
Brer Rabbit 'cross, en wid dat ole Brer Buzzard, he squot down,
he did, en spread his wings, en Brer Rabbit, he mounted, en up
dey riz." There was a pause.

"What did the Buzzard do then?" asked the little boy.

"Dey riz," continued Uncle Remus, "en w'en dey lit, dey lit in de
top er de highest sorter pine, en de pine w'at dey lit in wuz
growin' on er ilun, en de ilun wuz in de middle er de river, wid
de deep water runnin' all 'roun'. Dey ain't mo'n lit 'fo' Brer
Rabbit, he know w'ich way de win' 'uz blowin', en by de time ole
Brer Buzzard got hisse'f balance on a lim', Brer Rabbit, he up'n
say, sezee:

"'W'iles we er res'n here, Brer Buzzard, en bein's you bin so
good, I got sump'n fer ter tell you,' sezee. 'I got a gol'-mine
er my own, one w'at I make myse'f, en I speck we better go back
ter mine 'fo' we bodder 'longer yone,' sezee.

"Den ole Brer Buzzard, he laff, he did, twel he shake, en Brer
Rabbit, he sing out:

"'Hol' on, Brer Buzzard! Don't flop yo' wings w'en you laff, kaze
den if you duz, sump'n 'ill drap fum up yer, en my gol'-mine
won't do you no good, en needer will yone do me no good.'

"But 'fo' dey got down fum dar, Brer Rabbit done tole all 'bout
de crap, en he hatter prommus fer ter 'vide fa'r en squar. So
Brer Buzzard, he kyar 'im back, en Brer Rabbit he walk weak in
de knees a mont' atterwuds."


XXII. A STORY ABOUT THE LITTLE RABBITS

"FIN' um whar you will en w'en you may," remarked Uncle Remus
with emphasis, "good chilluns allers gits tuck keer on. Dar wuz
Brer Rabbit's chilluns; dey minded der daddy en mammy fum day's
een' ter day's een'. W'en ole man Rabbit say scoot,' dey scooted,
en w'en ole Miss Rabbit say 'scat,' dey scatted. Dey did dat. En
dey kep der cloze clean, en dey ain't had no smut on der nose
nudder."

Involuntarily the hand of the little boy went up to his face, and
he scrubbed the end of his nose with his coat-sleeve.

"Dey wuz good chilluns," continued the old man, heartily, "en ef
dey hadn't er bin, der wuz one time w'en dey wouldn't er bin no
little rabbits--na'er one. Dat's w'at."

"What time was that, Uncle Remus?" the little boy asked.

"De time w'en Brer Fox drapt in at Brer Rabbit house, en didn't
foun' nobody dar ceppin' de little Rabbits. Ole Brer Rabbit, he
wuz off some'rs raiding on a collard patch, en ole Miss Rabbit
she wuz tendin' on a quiltin' in de naberhood, en wiles de little
Rabbits wuz playin' hidin'-switch, in drapt Brer Fox. De little
Rabbits wuz so fat dat dey fa'rly make his mouf water, but he
'member 'bout Brer Wolf, en he skeer'd fer ter gobble urn up
ceppin' he got some skuse. De little Rabbits, dey mighty
skittish, en dey sorter huddle deyse'f up tergedder en watch Brer
Fox motions. Brer Fox, he sot dar en study w'at sorter skuse he
gwineter make up. Bimeby he see a great big stalk er sugar-cane
stan'in' up in de cornder, en he cle'r up his th'oat en talk
biggity:

"'Yer! you young Rabs dar, sail 'roun' yer en broke me a piece er
dat sweetnin'-tree,' sezee, en den he koff.

"De little Rabbits, dey got out de sugar-cane, dey did, en dey
rastle wid it, en sweat over it, but twan't no use. Dey
couldn't broke it. Brer Fox, he make like he ain't watchin', but
he keep on holler'n:

"'Hurry up dar, Rabs! I'm a waitin' on you.'

"En de little Rabbits, dey hustle 'roun' en rastle wid it, but
they couldn't broke it. Bimeby dey hear little bird singin' on
top er de house, en de song w'at de little bird sing wuz dish
yer.

"'Take yo' toofies en gnyaw it,
Take yo' toofies en saw it,
Saw it en yoke it,
En den you kin broke it.'

"Den de little Rabbits, dey git mighty glad, en dey gnyawed de
cane mos' 'fo' 'ole Brer Fox could git his legs oncrosst, en w'en
dey kyard 'im de cane, Brer Fox, he sot dar en study how he
gwineter make some mo' skuse fer nabbin' un um, en bimeby he git
up en git down de sifter w'at wuz hangin' on de wall, en holler
out:

"'Come yer, Rabs! Take dish yer sifter, en run down't de spring
en fetch me some fresh water.'

"De little Rabbits, dey run down't de spring, en try ter dip up
de water wid de sifter, but co'se hit all run out, en hit keep on
runnin' out, twel bimeby de little Rabbits sot down en 'gun ter
cry. Den de little bird settin' up in de tree he begin fer ter
sing, en dish yer's de song w'at he sing:

"'Sifter hol' water same ez a tray,
Ef you fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay;
De Fox git madder de longer you stay--
Fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay.'

"Up dey jump, de little Rabbits did, en dey fix de sifter so
'twon't leak, en den dey kyar de water ter ole Brer Fox. Den Brer
Fox he git mighty mad, en p'int out a great big stick er wood, en
tell de little Rabbits fer ter put dat on de fier. De little
chaps dey got 'roun' de wood, dey did, en dey lif' at it so hard
twel dey could see der own sins, but de wood ain't budge. Den dey
hear de little bird singin', en dish yer's de song w'at he sing:

"'Spit in yo' han's en tug it en toll it,
En git behime it, en push it, en pole it;
Spit in yo' han's en r'ar back en roll it.'

"En des 'bout de time dey got de wood on de fier, der daddy, he
come skippin' in, en de little bird, he flew'd away. Brer Fox, he
seed his game wuz up, en 'twan't long 'fo' he make his skuse en
start fer ter go.

"'You better Stay en take a snack wid me, Brer Fox,' sez Brer
Rabbit, sezee. 'Sence Brer Wolf done quite comin' en settin' up
wid me, I gittin' so I feels right lonesome dese long nights,'
sezee.

"But Brer Fox, he button up his coat-collar tight en des put out
fer home. En dat w'at you better do, honey, kaze I see Miss
Sally's shadder sailin' backerds en forerds 'fo' de winder, en de
fus' news you know she'll be spectin' un you."


XXIII. MR. RABBIT AND MR. BEAR

"DAR wuz one season" said Uncle Remus, pulling thoughtfully at
his whiskers, "w'en Brer Fox say to hisse'f dat he speck he
better whirl in en plant a goober-patch, en in dem days, mon, hit
wuz tech en go. De wud wern't mo'n out'n his mouf 'fo' de groun'
'uz brok'd up en de goobers 'uz planted. Ole Brer Rabbit, he sot
off en watch de motions, he did, en he sorter shet one eye en
sing to his chilluns:

"'Ti-yi! Tungalee!
I eat um pea, I pick um pea.
Hit grow in de groun', hit grow so free;
Ti-yi! dem goober pea.'

"Sho' 'nuff w'en de goobers 'gun ter ripen up, eve'y time Brer
Fox go down ter his patch, he fine whar somebody bin grabblin'
'mongst de vines, en he git mighty mad. He sorter speck who de
somebody is, but ole Brer Rabbit he cover his tracks so cute dat
Brer Fox dunner how ter ketch 'im. Bimeby, one day Brer Fox take
a walk all roun' de groun'-pea patch, en 'twan't long 'fo' he
fine a crack in de fence whar de rail done bin rub right smoove,
en right dar he sot 'im a trap. He tuck'n ben' down a hick'ry
saplin', growin' in de fence-cornder, en tie one een' un a plow-
line on de top, en in de udder een' he fix a loop-knot, en dat he
fasten wid a trigger right in de crack. Nex' mawnin' w'en ole
Brer Rabbit come slippin' 'long en crope thoo de crack, de
loop-knot kotch 'im behime de fo'legs, en de saplin' flew'd up,
en dar he wuz 'twix' de heavens en de yeth. Dar he swung, en he
fear'd he gwineter fall, en he fear'd he wer'n't gwineter fall.
W'ile he wuz a fixin' up a tale fer Brer Fox, he hear a lumberin'
down de road, en present'y yer cum ole Brer B'ar amblin' 'long
fum whar he bin takin' a bee-tree. Brer Rabbit, he hail 'im:

"'Howdy, Brer B'ar!'

"Brer B'ar, he look 'roun en bimeby he see Brer Rabbit swingin'
fum de saplin', en he holler out:

"'Heyo, Brer Rabbit! How you come on dis mawnin'?'

"'Much oblije, I'm middlin', Brer B'ar,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"Den Brer B'ar, he ax Brer Rabbit w'at he doin' up dar in de
elements, en Brer Rabbit, he up'n say he makin' dollar minnit.
Brer B'ar, he say how. Brer Rabbit say he keepin' crows out'n
Brer Fox's groun' pea patch, en den he ax Brer B'ar ef he don't
wanter make dollar minnit, kaze he got big fambly er chilluns fer
to take keer un, en den he make sech nice skeercrow. Brer B'ar
'low dat he take de job, en den Brer Rabbit show 'im how ter ben'
down de saplin', en 'twan't long 'fo' Brer B'ar wuz swingin' up
dar in Brer Rabbit's place. Den Brer Rabbit, he put out fer Brer
Fox house, en w'en he got dar he sing out:

"'Brer Fox! Oh, Brer Fox! Come out yer, Brer Fox, en I'll show
you de man w'at bin stealin' yo' goobers.'

"Brer Fox, he grab up his walkin'-stick, en bofe un um went
runnin' back down ter der goober-patch, en w'en dey got dar, sho
'nuff, dar wuz ole Brer B'ar.

"'Oh, yes! you er kotch, is you?' sez Brer Fox, en 'fo' Brer B'ar
could 'splain, Brer Rabbit he jump up en down, en holler out:

"'Hit 'im in de mouf, Brer Fox; hit 'im in do mouf'; en Brer Fox,
he draw back wid de walkin' cane, en blip he tuck 'im, en eve'y
time Brer B'ar'd try ter 'splain, Brer Fox'd shower down on him.

"W'iles all dis 'uz gwine on, Brer Rabbit, he slip off en git in
a mud-hole en des lef' his eyes stickin' out, kaze he know'd dat
Brer B'ar'd be a comin' atter 'im. Sho 'nuff, bimeby here come
Brer B'ar down de road, en w'en he git ter de mud-hole, he say:

"'Howdy, Brer Frog; is you seed Brer Rabbit go by yer?'

"'He des gone by,' sez Brer Rabbit, en ole man B'ar tuck off down
de road like a skeer'd mule, en Brer Rabbit, he come out en dry
hisse'f in de sun, en go home ter his fambly same ez enny udder
man.

"The Bear didn't catch the Rabbit, then?" inquired the little
boy, sleepily.

"Jump up fum dar, honey!" exclaimed Uncle Remus, by way of
reply. "I ain't got no time fer ter be settin' yer proppin' yo'
eyeleds open."


XXIV. MR. BEAR CATCHES OLD MR. BULL-FROG

"WELL, Uncle Remus," said the little boy, counting to see if he
hadn't lost a marble somewhere, "the Bear didn't catch the Rabbit
after all, did he?"

"Now you talkin', honey," replied the old man, his earnest face
breaking up into little eddies of smiles--"now you talkin' sho.
'Tain't bin proned inter no Brer B'ar fer ter kotch Brer Rabbit.
Hit sorter like settin' a mule fer ter trap a hummin'-bird. But
Brer B'ar, he tuck'n got hisse'f inter some mo' trubble, w'ich it
look like it mighty easy. Ef folks could make der livin' longer
gittin' inter trubble," continued the old man, looking curiously
at the little boy, "ole Miss Favers wouldn't be bodder'n yo' ma
fer ter borry a cup full er sugar eve'y now en den; en it look
like ter me dat I knows a nigger dat wouldn't be squattin' 'roun'
yer makin' dese yer fish-baskits."

"How did the Bear get into more trouble, Uncle Remus?" asked the
little boy.

"Natchul, honey. Brer B'ar, he tuck a notion dat ole Brer
Bull-frog wuz de man w'at fool 'im, en he say dat he'd come up
wid 'im ef 'twuz a year atterwuds. But 'twan't no year, an
'twan't no mont', en mo'n dat, hit wa'n't skasely a week, w'en
bimeby one day Brer B'ar wuz gwine home fum de takin' un a
bee-tree, en lo en behol's, who should he see but ole Brer
Bull-frog settin' out on de aidge er de mud-muddle fas' 'sleep!
Brer B'ar drap his axe, he did, en crope up, en retch out wid his
paw, en scoop ole Brer Bull-frog in des dis away." Here the old
man used his hand ladle-fashion, by way of illustration. "He
scoop 'im in, en dar he wuz. W'en Brer B'ar got his clampers on
'im good, he sot down en talk at 'im.

"'Howdy, Brer Bull-frog, howdy! En how yo fambly? I hope dey er
well, Brer Bull-frog, kaze dis day you got some bizness wid me
w'at'll las' you a mighty long time.'

"Brer Bull-frog, he dunner w'at ter say. He dunner w'at's up, en
he don't say nuthin'. Ole Brer B'ar he keep runnin' on:

"'You er de man w'at tuck en fool me 'bout Brer Rabbit t'er day.
You had yo' fun, Brer Bull-frog, en now I'll git mine.'

"Den Brer Bull-frog, he gin ter git skeer'd, he did, en he up'n
say:

"'W'at I bin doin', Brer B'ar? How I bin foolin' you?'

"Den Brer B'ar laff, en make like he dunno, but he keep on
talkin'.

"'Oh, no, Brer Bull-frog! You ain't de man w'at stick yo' head up
out'n de water en tell me Brer Rabbit done gone on by. Oh, no!
you ain't de man. I boun' you ain't. 'Bout dat time, you wuz at
home with yo' fambly, whar you allers is. I dunner whar you wuz,
but I knows whar you is, Brer Bull-frog, en hit's you en me fer
it. Atter de sun goes down dis day you don't fool no mo' folks
gwine 'long dis road.'

"Co'se, Brer Bull-frog dunner w'at Brer B'ar drivin' at, but he
know sump'n hatter be done, en dat mighty soon, kaze Brer B'ar
'gun to snap his jaws tergedder en foam at de mouf, en Brer
Bull-frog holler out:

"'Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! Lemme off dis time, en I won't never do so
no mo'. Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! do lemme off dis time, en I'll show
you de fattes' bee-tree in de woods.'

"Ole Brer B'ar, he chomp his toofies en foam at de mouf. Brer
Bull-frog he des up'n squall:

"'Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! I won't never do so no mo'! Oh, pray, Brer
B'ar! Lemme off dis time!'

"But ole Brer B'ar say he gwineter make way wid 'im, en den he
sot en study, ole Brer B'ar did, how he gwineter squench Brer
Bull-frog. He know he can't drown 'im, en he ain't got no fier
fer ter bu'n 'im, en he git mighty pestered. Bimeby ole Brer
Bull-frog, he sorter stop his cryin' en his boo-hooin', en he
up'n say:

"'Ef you gwineter kill me, Brer B'ar, kyar me ter dat big flat
rock out dar on de aidge er de mill-pon', whar I kin see my
fambly, en atter I see um, den you kin take you axe en sqush me.'

"Dis look so fa'r and squar' dat Brer B'ar he 'gree, en he take
ole Brer Bull-frog by wunner his behime legs, en sling his axe on
his shoulder, en off he put fer de big flat rock. When he git dar
he lay Brer Bullfrog down on de rock, en Brer Bull-frog make like
he lookin' 'roun' fer his folks. Den Brer B'ar, he draw long
breff en pick up his axe. Den he spit in his han's en draw back
en come down on de rock--pow!"

"'Did he kill the Frog, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, as
the old man paused to scoop up a thimbleful of glowing embers in
his pipe.

"'Deed, en dat he didn't, honey. 'Twix' de time w'en Brer B'ar
raise up wid his axe en w'en he come down wid it, ole Brer
Bull-frog he lipt up en dove down in de mill-pon', kerblink-
kerblunk! En w'en he riz way out in de pon' he riz a singin', en
dish yer's de song w'at he sing:

"'Ingle-go-jang, my joy, my joy-
Ingle-go-jang, my joy!
I'm right at home, my joy, my joy-
Ingle-go-jang, my joy!'"

"That's a mighty funny song," said the little boy.

"Funny now, I speck," said the old man, "but 'tweren't funny in
dem days, en 'twouldn't be funny now ef folks know'd much 'bout
de Bull-frog langwidge ez dey useter. Dat's w'at."


XXV. HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS FINE BUSHY TAIL

"ONE time," said Uncle Remus, sighing heavily and settling
himself back in his seat with an air of melancholy resignation--
"one time Brer Rabbit wuz gwine 'long down de road shakin' his
big bushy tail, en feelin' des ez scrumpshus ez a bee-martin wid
a fresh bug." Here the old man paused and glanced at the little
boy, but it was evident that the youngster had become so
accustomed to the marvelous developments of Uncle Remus's
stories, that the extraordinary statement made no unusual
impression upon him. Therefore the old man began again, and this
time in a louder and more insinuating tone:

"One time ole man Rabbit, he wuz gwine 'long down de road
shakin' his long, bushy tail, en feelin' mighty biggity."

This was effective.

"Great goodness, Uncle Remus!" exclaimed the little boy in
open-eyed wonder, "everybody knows that rabbits haven't got long,
bushy tails."

The old man shifted his position in his chair and allowed his
venerable head to drop forward until his whole appearance was
suggestive of the deepest dejection; and this was intensified by
a groan that seemed to be the result of great mental agony.
Finally he spoke, but not as addressing himself to the little
boy.

"I notices dat dem fokes w'at makes a great 'miration 'bout w'at
dey knows is des de fokes w'ich you can't put no 'pennunce in
w'en de 'cashun come up. Yer one un um now, en he done come en
excuse me er 'lowin dat rabbits is got long, bushy tails, w'ich
goodness knows ef I'd a dremp' it, I'd a whirl in en on-dremp
it."

"Well, but Uncle Remus, you said rabbits had long, bushy tails,"
replied the little boy. "Now you know you did."

"Ef I ain't fergit it off'n my mine, I say dat ole Brer Rabbit
wuz gwine down de big road shakin' his long, bushy tail. Dat w'at
I say, en dat I stan's by."

The little boy looked puzzled, but he didn't say anything. After
a while the old man continued:

"Now, den, ef dat's 'greed ter, I'm gwine on, en ef tain't 'greed
ter, den I'm gwineter pick up my cane en look atter my own
intrust. I got wuk lyin''roun' yer dat's des natchully gittin'
moldy."

The little boy still remained quiet, and Uncle Remus proceeded:

"One day Brer Rabbit wuz gwine down de road shakin' his long,
bushy tail, w'en who should he strike up wid but ole Brer Fox
gwine amblin' long wid a big string er fish! W'en dey pass de
time er day wid wunner nudder, Brer Rabbit, he open up de confab,
he did, en he ax Brer Fox whar he git dat nice string er fish, en
Brer Fox, he up'n 'spon' dat he kotch um, en Brer Rabbit, he say
whar'bouts, en Brer Fox, he say down at de babtizin' creek, en
Brer Rabbit he ax how, kaze in dem days dey wuz monstus fon' er
minners, en Brer Fox, he sot down on a log, he did, en he up'n
tell Brer Rabbit dat all he gotter do fer ter git er big mess er
minners is ter go ter de creek atter sundown, en drap his tail in
de water en set dar twel day-light, en den draw up a whole armful
er fishes, en dem w'at he don't want, he kin fling back.

"Right dar's whar Brer Rabbit drap his watermillion, kaze he
tuck'n sot out dat night en went a fishin'. De wedder wuz sorter
col', en Brer Rabbit, he got 'im a bottle er dram en put out fer
de creek, en w'en he git dar he pick out a good place, en he
sorter squot down, he did, en let his tail hang in de water. He
sot dar, en he sot dar, en he drunk his dram, en he think he
gwineter freeze, but bimeby day come, en dar he wuz. He make a
pull, en he feel like he comin' in two, en he fetch nudder jerk,
en lo en beholes, whar wuz his tail?"

There was a long pause.

"Did it come off, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, presently.

"She did dat!" replied the old man with unction. "She did dat,
and dat w'at make all deze yer bob-tail rabbits w'at you see
hoppin' en skaddlin' thoo de woods."

"Are they all that way just because the old Rabbit lost his tail
in the creek?" asked the little boy.

"Dat's it, honey," replied the old man. "Dat's w'at dey tells me.
Look like dey er bleedzd ter take atter der pa."


XXVI. MR. TERRAPIN SHOWS HIS STRENGTH

"BRER TARRYPIN wuz de out'nes' man," said Uncle Remus, rubbing
his hands together contemplatively, and chuckling to himself in a
very significant manner; "he wuz de out'nes' man er de whole
gang. He wuz dat."

The little boy sat perfectly quiet, betraying no impatience when
Uncle Remus paused to hunt, first in one pocket and then in
another, for enough crumbs of tobacco to replenish his pipe.
Presently the old man proceeded:

"One night Miss Meadows en de gals dey gun a candy-pullin', en
so many er de nabers come in 'sponse ter de invite dat dey hatter
put de 'lasses in de wash pot en b'il' de fier in de yard. Brer
B'ar, he holp*1 Miss Meadows bring de wood, Brer Fox, he men' de
fier, Brer Wolf, he kep' de dogs off, Brer Rabbit, he grease de
bottom er de plates fer ter keep de candy fum stickin', en Brer
Tarrypin, he klum up in a cheer, en say he'd watch en see dat de
'lasses didn't bile over. Dey wuz all dere, en dey wern't cuttin'
up no didos, nudder, kaze Miss Meadows, she done put her foot
down, she did, en say dat w'en dey come ter her place dey hatter
hang up a flag er truce at de front gate en 'bide by it.

"Well, den, w'iles dey wuz all a settin' dar en de 'lasses wuz a
bilin' en a blubberin', dey got ter runnin' on talkin' mighty
biggity. Brer Rabbit, he say he de swiffes'; but Brer Tarrypin,
he rock long in de cheer en watch de 'lasses. Brer Fox, he say he
de sharpes', but Brer Tarrypin he rock long. Brer Wolf, he say he
de mos' suvvigus, but Brer Tarrypin, he rock en he rock long.
Brer B'ar, he say he de mos' stronges', but Brer Tarrypin he
rock, en he keep on rockin'. Bimeby he sorter shet one eye, en
say, sezee:

"'Hit look like 'periently dat de ole hardshell ain't nowhars
'longside er dis crowd, yit yer I is, en I'm de same man w'at
show Brer Rabbit dat he ain't de swiffes'; en I'm de same man
w'at kin show Brer B'ar dat he ain't de stronges',' sezee.

"Den dey all laff en holler, kaze it look like Brer B'ar mo'
stronger dan a steer. Bimeby, Miss Meadows, she up'n ax, she did,
how he gwine do it.

"'Gimme a good strong rope,' sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, 'en lemme
git in er puddle er water, en den let Brer B'ar see ef he kin
pull me out,' sezee.

"Den dey all laff 'gin, en Brer B'ar, he ups en sez, sezee: 'We
ain't got no rope,' sezee.

"'No,' sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, 'en needer is you got de strenk,'
sezee, en den Brer Tarrypin, he rock en rock long, en watch de
'lasses a bilin' en a blubberin'.

"Atter w'ile Miss Meadows, she up en say, she did, dat she'd
take'n loan de young men her bed-cord, en w'iles de candy wuz a
coolin' in de plates, dey could all go ter de branch en see Brer
Tarrypin kyar out his projick. Brer Tarrypin," continued Uncle
Remus, in a tone at once confidential and argumentative, "weren't
much bigger'n de pa'm er my han', en it look mighty funny fer ter
year 'im braggin' 'bout how he kin out-pull Brer B'ar. But dey
got de bed-cord atter w'ile, en den dey all put out ter de
branch. W'en Brer Tarrypin fine de place he wanter, he tuck one
een er de bed-cord, en gun de yuther een' to Brer B'ar.

"'Now den, ladies en gents,' sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, 'you all
go wid Brer B'ar up dar in de woods en I'll stay yer, en w'en you
year me holler, den's de time fer Brer B'ar fer ter see ef he kin
haul in de slack er de rope. You all take keer er dat ar een','
sezee, 'en I'll take keer er dish yer een',' sezee.

"Den dey all put out en lef' Brer Tarrypin at de branch, en w'en
dey got good en gone, he dove down inter de water, he did, en tie
de bed-cord hard en fas' ter wunner deze yer big clay-roots, en
den he riz up en gin a whoop.

"Brer B'ar he wrop de bed-cord roun' his han,' en wink at de
gals, en wid dat he gin a big juk, but Brer Tarrypin ain't budge.
Den he take bof han's en gin a big pull, but, all de same, Brer
Tarrypin ain't budge. Den he tu'n 'roun', he did, en put de rope
cross his shoulders en try ter walk off wid Brer Tarrypin, but
Brer Tarrypin look like he don't feel like walkin'. Den Brer Wolf
he put in en holp Brer B'ar pull, but des like he didn't, en den
dey all holp 'im, en, bless grashus! w'iles dey wuz all a
pullin', Brer Tarrypin, he holler, en ax um w'y dey don't take up
de slack.

"Den w'en Brer Tarrypin feel um quit pullin', he dove down, he
did, en ontie de rope, en by de time dey got ter de branch, Brer
Tarrypin, he wuz settin' in de aidge er de water des ez natchul
ez de nex' un, en he up'n say, sezee:

"'Dat las' pull er yone wuz a mighty stiff un, en a leetle mo'n
you'd er had me,' sezee. 'You er monstus stout, Brer B'ar,'
sezee, 'en you pulls like a yoke er steers, but I sorter had de
purchis on you,' sezee.

"Den Brer B'ar, bein's his mouf 'gun ter water atter de
sweetnin,' he up'n say he speck de candy's ripe, en off dey put
atter it!"

"It's a wonder," said the little boy, after a while, "that the
rope didn't break."

"Break who?" exclaimed Uncle Remus, with a touch of
indignation in his tone--"break who? In dem days, Miss Meadows's
bed-cord would a hilt a mule."

This put an end to whatever doubts the child might have
entertained.

*1 Help; helped.


XXVII. WHY MR. POSSUM HAS NO HAIR ON HIS TAIL

"HIT look like ter me," said Uncle Remus, frowning, as the
little boy came hopping and skipping into the old man's cabin,
"dat I see a young un 'bout yo' size playin' en makin' free wid
dem ar chilluns er ole Miss Favers's yistiddy, en w'en I seed
dat, I drap my axe, en I come in yer en sot flat down right whar
you er settin' now, en I say ter myse'f dat it's 'bout time fer
ole Remus fer ter hang up en quit. Dat's des zackly w'at I say."

"Well, Uncle Remus, they called me," said the little boy, in a
penitent tone. 'They come and called me, and said they had a
pistol and some powder over there."

"Dar now!" exclaimed the old man, indignantly. "Dar now! w'at I
bin sayin'? Hit's des a born blessin' dat you wa'n't brung home
on a litter wid bofe eyeballs hangin' out en one year clean gone;
dat's w'at 'tis. Hit's des a born blessin'. Hit hope me up
might'ly de udder day w'en I hear Miss Sally layin' down de law
'bout you en dem Favers chillun, yit, lo en behol's, de fus news
I knows yer you is han'-in-glove wid um. Hit's nuff fer ter fetch
ole Miss right up out'n dat berryin'-groun' fum down dar in
Putmon County, en w'at yo' gran'ma wouldn't er stood me en yo' ma
ain't gwineter stan' nudder, en de nex time I hear 'bout sech a
come off ez dis, right den en dar I'm boun' ter lay de case 'fo'
Miss Sally. Dem Favers's wa'n't no 'count 'fo' de war, en dey
wa'n't no 'count endurin' er de war, en dey ain't no 'count
atterwards, en w'iles my head's hot you ain't gwineter go mixin'
up yo'se'f wid de riff-raff er creashun."

The little boy made no further attempt to justify his conduct. He
was a very wise little boy, and he knew that, in Uncle Remus's
eyes, he had been guilty of a flagrant violation of the family
code. Therefore, instead of attempting to justify himself, he
pleaded guilty, and promised that he would never do so any more.
After this there was a long period of silence, broken only by the
vigorous style in which Uncle Remus puffed away at his pipe. This
was the invariable result. Whenever the old man had occasion to
reprimand the little boy--and the occasions were frequent--he
would relapse into a dignified but stubborn silence. Presently
the youngster drew forth from his pocket a long piece of candle.
The sharp eyes of the old man saw it at once.

"Don't you come a tellin' me dat Miss Sally gun you dat," he
exclaimed, "kaze she didn't. En I lay you hatter be monstus sly
'fo' you gotter chance fer ter snatch up dat piece er cannle."

"Well, Uncle Remus," the little boy explained, "it was lying
there all by itself, and I just thought I'd fetch it out to you.

"Dat's so, honey," said Uncle Remus, greatly mollified; "dat's
so, kaze by now some er dem yuther niggers 'ud er done had her
lit up. Dey er mighty biggity, dem house niggers is, but I
notices dat dey don't let nuthin' pass. Dey goes 'long wid der
han's en der mouf open, en w'at one don't ketch de tother one
do."

There was another pause, and finally the little boy said:

"Uncle Remus, you know you promised to-day to tell me why the
'Possum has no hair on his tail."

"Law, honey! ain't you done gone en fergot dat off'n yo' mine
yit? Hit look like ter me," continued the old man, leisurely
refilling his pipe, "dat she sorter run like dis: One time ole
Brer Possum, he git so hungry, he did, dat he bleedzd fer ter
have a mess er 'simmons. He monstus lazy man, old Brer Possum
wuz, but bimeby his stummick 'gun ter growl en holler at 'im so
dat he des hatter rack 'roun' en hunt up sump'n; en w'iles he wuz
rackin' 'roun', who sh'd he run up wid but Brer Rabbit, en dey
wuz hail-fellers, kaze Brer Possum, he ain't bin bodder'n Brer
Rabbit like dem yuther creeturs. Dey sot down by de side er de
big road, en dar dey jabber en confab 'mong wunner nudder, twel
bimeby old Brer Possum, he take 'n tell Brer Rabbit dat he mos'
pe'sh out, en Brer Rabbit, he lip up in de a'r, he did, en smack
his han's tergedder, en say dat he know right whar Brer Possum
kin git a bait er 'simmons. Den Brer Possum, he say whar, en Brer
Rabbit, he say w'ich 'twuz over at Brer B'ar's 'simmon orchard."

"Did the Bear have a 'simmon orchard, Uncle Remus?" the little
boy asked.

"Co'se, honey, kaze in dem days Brer B'ar wuz a bee-hunter. He
make his livin' findin' bee trees, en de way he fine um he plant
'im some 'simmon-trees, w'ich de bees dey'd come ter suck de
'simmons en den ole Brer B'ar he'd watch um whar dey'd go, en
den he'd be mighty ap' fer ter come up wid um. No matter 'bout
dat, de 'simmon patch 'uz dar des like I tell you, en ole Brer
Possum mouf 'gun ter water soon's he year talk un um, en mos'
'fo' Brer Rabbit done tellin' 'im de news, Brer Possum, he put
out, he did, en 'twa'n't long 'fo' he wuz perch up in de highes'
tree in Brer B'ar 'simmon patch. But Brer Rabbit, he done
'termin' fer ter see some fun, en w'iles all dis 'uz gwine on, he
run 'roun' ter Brer B'ar house, en holler en tell 'im w'ich dey
wuz somebody 'stroyin' un his 'simmons, en Brer B'ar, he hustle
off fer ter ketch 'im.

"Eve'y now en den Brer Possum think he year Brer B'ar comin',
but he keep on sayin', sezee:

"'I'll des git one 'simmon mo' en den I'll go; one 'simmon mo' en
den I'll go.'

"Las' he year Brer B'ar comm' sho nuff, but 'twuz de same ole
chune--'One 'simmon mo' en den I'll go'--en des 'bout dat time
Brer B'ar busted inter de patch, en gin de tree a shake, en Brer
Possum, he drapt out longer de yuther ripe 'simmons, but time he
totch de groun' he got his foots tergedder, en he lit out fer de
fence same ez a race-hoss, en 'cross dat patch him en Brer B'ar
had it, en Brer B'ar gain' eve'y jump, twel time Brer Possum make
de fence Brer B'ar grab 'im by de tail, en Brer Possum, he went
out 'tween de rails en gin a powerful juk en pull his tail out
'twix Brer B'ar tushes; en, lo en behol's, Brer B'ar hol' so
tight en Brer Possum pull so hard dat all de ha'r come off in
Brer B'ar's mouf, w'ich, ef Brer Rabbit hadn't er happen up wid a
go'd er water, Brer B'ar 'der got strankle.

"Fum dat day ter dis," said Uncle Remus, knocking the ashes
carefully out of his pipe, "Brer Possum ain't had no ha'r on his
tail, en needer do his chilluns."


XXVIII. THE END OF MR. BEAR

THE next time the little boy sought Uncle Remus out, he found the
old man unusually cheerful and good-humoured. His rheumatism
had ceased to trouble him, and he was even disposed to be
boisterous. He was singing when the little boy got near the
cabin, and the child paused on the outside to listen to the
vigorous but mellow voice of the old man, as it rose and fell
with the burden of the curiously plaintive song--a senseless
affair so far as the words were concerned, but sung to a melody
almost thrilling in its sweetness:

"Han' me down my walkin'-cane
(Hey my Lily! go down de road!),
Yo' true lover gone down de lane
(Hey my Lily! go down de road!)."

The quick ear of Uncle Remus, however, had detected the
presence of the little boy, and he allowed his song to run into a
recitation of nonsense, of which the following, if it be rapidly
spoken, will give a faint idea:

"Ole M'er Jackson, fines' confraction, fell down sta'rs fer to
git satisfaction; big Bill Fray, he rule de day, eve'ything he
call fer come one, two by three. Gwine 'long one day, met Johnny
Huby, ax him grine nine yards er steel fer me, tole me w'ich he
couldn't; den I hist 'im over Hickerson Dickerson's barn-doors;
knock 'im ninety-nine miles under water, w'en he rise, he rise in
Pike straddle un a hanspike, en I lef' 'im dar smokin' er de
hornpipe, Juba reda seda breda. Aunt Kate at de gate; I want to
eat, she fry de meat en gimme skin, w'ich I fling it back agin.
Juba!"

All this, rattled off at a rapid rate and with apparent
seriousness, was calculated to puzzle the little boy, and he
slipped into his accustomed seat with an expression of awed
bewilderment upon his face.

"Hit's all des dat away, honey," continued the old man, with the
air of one who had just given an important piece of information.
"En w'en you bin cas'n shadders long ez de ole nigger, den you'll
fine out who's w'ich, en w'ich's who."

The little boy made no response. He was in thorough sympathy
with all the whims and humors of the old man, and his capacity
for enjoying them was large enough to include even those he could
not understand. Uncle Remus was finishing an axe-handle, and upon
these occasions it was his custom to allow the child to hold one
end while he applied sand-paper to the other. These relations
were pretty soon established, to the mutual satisfaction of the
parties most interested, and the old man continued his remarks,
but this time not at random:

"W'en I see deze yer swell-head folks like dat 'oman w'at come en
tell yo' ma 'bout you chunkin' at her chilluns, w'ich yo' ma make
Mars John strop you, hit make my mine run back to ole Brer B'ar.
Ole Brer B'ar, he got de swell-headedness hisse'f, en ef der wuz
enny swinkin', hit swunk too late fer ter he'p ole Brer B'ar.
Leas'ways dat's w'at dey tells me, en I ain't never yearn it
'sputed."

"Was the Bear's head sure enough swelled, Uncle Remus?"

"Now you talkin', honey!" exclaimed the old man.

"Goodness! what made it swell?"

This was Uncle Remus's cue. Applying the sand-paper to the
axe-helve with gentle vigor, he began.

"One time when Brer Rabbit wuz gwine lopin' home fum a frolic
w'at dey bin havin' up at Miss Meadows's, who should he happin
up wid but ole Brer B'ar. Co'se, atter w'at done pass 'twix um
dey wa'n't no good feelin's 'tween Brer Rabbit en ole Brer B'ar,
but Brer Rabbit, he wanter save his manners, en so he holler out:

"'Heyo, Brer B'ar! how you come on? I ain't seed you in a coon's
age. How all down at yo' house? How Miss Brune en Miss Brindle?"

"Who was that, Uncle Remus?" the little boy interrupted.

"Miss Brune en Miss Brindle? Miss Brune wuz Brer B'ar's ole
'oman, en Miss Brindle wuz his gal. Dat w'at dey call um in dem
days. So den Brer Rabbit, he ax him howdy, he did, en Brer B'ar,
he 'spon' dat he wuz mighty po'ly, en dey amble 'long, dey did,
sorter familious like, but Brer Rabbit, he keep one eye on Brer
B'ar, en Brer B'ar, he study how he gwine nab Brer Rabbit. Las'
Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee:

"'Brer B'ar, I speck I got some bizness cut out fer you,' sezee.

"'What dat, Brer Rabbit?' sez Brer B'ar, sezee.

"'W'iles I wuz cleanin' up my new-groun' day 'fo' yistiddy,' sez
Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'I come 'cross wunner deze yer ole time bee-
trees. Hit start holler at de bottom, en stay holler plum der de
top, en de honey's des natchully oozin' out, en ef you'll drap
yo' 'gagements en go longer me,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'you'll
git a bait dat'll las' you en yo' fambly twel de middle er nex'
mont',' sezee.

"Brer B'ar say he much oblije en he bleeve he'll go long, en wid
dat dey put out fer Brer Rabbit's new-groun', w'ich 'twa'n't so
mighty fur. Leas'ways, dey got dar atter w'ile. Ole Brer B'ar, he
'low dat he kin smell de honey. Brer Rabbit, he 'low dat he kin
see de honey-koam. Brer B'ar, he 'low dat he can hear de bees a
zoonin'. Dey stan' 'roun' en talk biggity, dey did, twel bimeby
Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee:

"'You do de clim'in', Brer B'ar, en I'll do de rushin' 'roun';
you clim' up ter de hole, en I'll take dis yer pine pole en shove
de honey up whar you kin git 'er,' sezee.

"Ole Brer B'ar, he spit on his han's en skint up de tree, en jam
his head in de hole, en sho nuff, Brer Rabbit, he grab de pine
pole, en de way he stir up dem bees wuz sinful--dat's w'at it
wuz. Hit wuz sinful. En de bees dey swawm'd on Brer B'ar's head,
twel 'fo' he could take it out'n de hole hit wuz done swell up
bigger dan dat dinner-pot, en dar he swung, en ole Brer Rabbit,
he dance 'roun' en sing:

"Tree stan' high, but honey mighty sweet--
Watch dem bees wid stingers on der feet.'

"But dar ole Brer B'ar hung, en ef his head ain't swunk, I speck
he hangin' dar yit--dat w'at I speck."


XXIX. MR. FOX GETS INTO SERIOUS BUSINESS

"HIT turn out one time," said Uncle Remus, grinding some crumbs
of tobacco between the palms of his hands, preparatory to
enjoying his usual smoke after supper--"hit turn out one time dat
Brer Rabbit make so free wid de man's collard-patch dat de man he
tuck'n sot a trap fer ole Brer Rabbit."

"Which man was that, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy.

"Des a man, honey. Dat's all. Dat's all I knows--des wunner dese
yer mans w'at you see trollopin 'roun' eve'y day. Nobody ain't
never year w'at his name is, en ef dey did dey kep' de news
mighty close fum me. Ef dish yer man is bleedzd fer ter have a
name, den I'm done, kaze you'll hatter go fudder dan me. Ef you
bleedzd ter know mo' dan w'at I duz, den you'll hatter hunt up
some er deze yer niggers w'at's sprung up sence I commence fer
ter shed my ha'r."

"Well, I just thought, Uncle Remus," said the little boy, in a
tone remarkable for self-depreciation, "that the man had a name."

"Tooby sho," replied the old man, with unction, puffing away at
his pipe. "Co'se. Dat w'at make I say w'at I duz. Dish yer man
mout a had a name, en den ag'in he moutn't. He mont er bin name
Slip-shot Sam, en he mouter bin name ole One-eye Riley, w'ich ef
'twuz hit ain't bin handed roun' ter me. But dish yer man, he in
de tale, en w'at we gwine do wid 'im? Dat's de p'int, kase w'en I
git ter huntin' 'roun' 'mong my 'membunce atter dish yer Mister
W'atyoumaycollum's name, she ain't dar. Now den, le's des call
'im Mr. Man en let 'im go at dat."

The silence of the little boy gave consent.

"One time," said Uncle Remus, carefully taking up the thread of
the story where it had been dropped, "hit turn out dat Brer
Rabbit bin makin' so free wid Mr. Man's greens en truck dat Mr.
Man, he tuck'n sot a trap for Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit he so
greedy dat he tuck'n walk right spang in it, 'fo' he know
hisse'f. Well, 'twa'n't long 'fo' yer come Mr. Man, broozin'
'roun', en he ain't no sooner see ole Brer Rabbit dan he smack
his han's tergedder en holler out:

"'You er nice feller, you is! Yer you bin gobblin' up my green
truck, en now you tryin' ter tote off my trap. You er mighty nice
chap--dat's w'at you is! But now dat I got you, I'll des 'bout
settle wid you fer de ole en de new.'

"En wid dat, Mr. Man, he go off, he did, down in de bushes atter
han'ful er switches. Ole Brer Rabbit, he ain't sayin' nuthin',
but he feelin' mighty lonesome, en he sot dar lookin' like eve'y
minnit wuz gwineter be de nex'. En w'iles Mr. Man wuz off
prepa'r'n his bresh-broom, who should come p'radin' long but Brer
Fox. Brer Fox make a great 'miration, he did, 'bout de fix w'at
he fin' Brer Rabbit in, but Brer Rabbit he make like he fit ter
kill hisse'f laffin', en he up'n tell Brer Fox, he did, dat Miss
Meadows's fokes want 'im ter go down ter der house in 'tennunce
on a weddin', en he 'low w'ich he couldn't, en dey 'low how he
could, en den bimeby dey take'n tie 'im dar w'iles dey go atter
de preacher, so he be dar' w'en dey come back. En mo'n dat, Brer
Rabbit up'n tell Brer Fox dat his chillun's mighty low wid de
fever, en he bleedzd ter go atter some pills fer'm, en he ax Brer
Fox fer ter take his place en go down ter Miss Meadows's en have
nice time wid de gals. Brer Fox, he in fer dem kinder pranks, en
'twa'n't no time 'fo' Brer Rabbit had ole Brer Fox harness up dar
in his place, en den he make like he got ter make 'as'e en git de
pills fer dem sick chilluns. Brer Rabbit wa'n't mo'n out er sight
'fo' yer come Mr. Man wid a han'ful er hick'ries, but w'en he see
Brer Fox tied up dar, he look like he 'stonished.

"'Heyo!' sez Mr. Man, sezee, 'you done change color, en you done
got bigger, en yo' tail done grow out. W'at kin' er w'atzyname is
you, ennyhow?' sezee.

"Brer Fox, he stay still, en Mr. Man, he talk on:

"'Hit's mighty big luck,' sezee, 'ef w'en I ketch de chap w'at
nibble my greens, likewise I ketch de feller w'at gnyaw my
goose,' sezee, en wid dat he let inter Brer Fox wid de hick'ries,
en de way he play rap-jacket wuz a caution ter de naberhood. Brer
Fox, he juk en he jump, en he squeal en he squall, but Mr. Man,
he shower down on 'im, he did, like fightin' a red was'nes'."

The little boy laughed, and Uncle Remus supplemented this
indorsement of his descriptive powers with a most infectious
chuckle.

"'Bimeby," continued the old man, "de switches, dey got frazzle
out, en Mr. Man, he put out atter mo', en w'en he done got fa'rly
outer yearin', Brer Rabbit, he show'd up, he did, kaze he des bin
hidin' out in de bushes lis'nin' at de racket, en he 'low hit
mighty funny dat Miss Meadows ain't come 'long, kaze he done bin
down ter de doctor house, en dat's fudder dan de preacher, yit.
Brer Rabbit make like he hurr'in' on home, but Brer Fox, he open
up, he did, en he say:

"'I thank you fer ter tu'n me loose, Brer Rabbit, en I'll be
'blije,' sezee, ''caze you done tie me up so tight dat it make my
head swim, en I don't speck I'd las' fer ter git ter Miss
Meadows's,' sezee.

"Brer Rabbit, he sot down sorter keerless like, en begin fer ter
scratch one year like a man studyin' 'bout sump'n.

"'Dat's so, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'you duz look sorter stove up. Look
like sump'n bin onkoamin' yo' ha'rs,' sezee.

"Brer Fox ain't sayin' nothin', but Brer Rabbit, he keep on
talkin':

"'Dey ain't no bad feelin's 'twix' us, is dey, Brer Fox? Kaze ef
dey is, I ain't got no time fer ter be tarryin' 'roun' yer.'

"Brer Fox say w'ich he don't have no onfrennelness, en wid dat
Brer Rabbit cut Brer Fox loose des in time fer ter hear Mr. Man
w'isserlin up his dogs, en one went one way en de udder went
nudder."


XXX. HOW MR. RABBIT SUCCEEDED IN RAISING A DUST

"IN dem times," said Uncle Remus, gazing admiringly at himself
in a fragment of looking-glass, "Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en
Brer Coon, en dem yuther creeturs go co'tin' en sparklin' 'roun'
de naberhood mo' samer dan folks. 'Twan't no 'Lemme a hoss,' ner
'Fetch me my buggy,' but dey des up'n lit out en tote deyse'f.
Dar's ole Brer Fox, he des wheel 'roun' en fetch his flank one
swipe wid 'is tongue en he'd be koam up; en Brer Rabbit, he des
spit on his han' en twis' it 'roun' 'mongst de roots er his years
en his ha'r'd be roach. Dey wuz dat flirtashus," continued the
old man, closing one eye at his image in the glass, "dat Miss
Meadows en de gals don't se no peace fum one week een' ter de
udder. Chuseday wuz same as Sunday, en Friday wuz same as
Chuseday, en hit come down ter dat pass dat w'en Miss Meadows 'ud
have chicken-fixin's fer dinner, in 'ud drap Brer Fox en Brer
Possum, en w'en she'd have fried greens in 'ud pop ole Brer
Rabbit, twel las' Miss Meadows, she tuck'n tell de gals dat she
be dad-blame ef she gwineter keep no tavvum. So dey fix it up
'mong deyse'f, Miss Meadows en de gals did, dat de nex' time de
gents call dey'd gin um a game. De gents, dey wuz a co'tin, but
Miss Meadows, she don't wanter marry none un um, en needer duz de
gals, en likewise dey don't wanter have um pester'n 'roun.' Las',
one Chuseday, Miss Meadows, she tole um dat ef dey come down ter
her house de nex' Sat'day evenin', de whole caboodle on um 'ud go
down de road a piece, whar der wuz a big flint rock, en de man
w'at could take a sludge-hammer en knock de dus' out'n dat rock,
he wuz de man w'at 'ud git de pick er de gals. Dey all say dey
gwine do it, but ole Brer Rabbit, he crope off whar der wuz a
cool place under some jimson weeds, en dar he sot wukkin his mind
how he gwineter git dus' out'n dat rock. Bimeby, w'ile he wuz a
settin' dar, up he jump en crack his heels tergedder en sing out:

"'Make a bow ter de Buzzard en den ter de Crow,
Takes a limber-toe gemmun fer ter jump Jim Crow,'

"en wid dat he put out for Brer Coon house en borrer his slippers.
W'en Sat'day evenin' come, dey wuz all dere. Miss Meadows en de
gals, dey wuz dere; en Brer Coon, en Brer Fox, en Brer Possum, en
Brer Tarrypin, dey wuz dere."

"Where was the Rabbit?" the little boy asked.

"You kin put yo' 'pennunce in ole Brer Rabbit," the old man
replied, with a chuckle. "He wuz dere, but he shuffle up kinder
late, kaze w'en Miss Meadows en de balance on um done gone down
ter de place, Brer Rabbit, he crope 'roun' ter de ash-hopper,
en fill Brer Coon's slippers full er ashes, en den he tuck'n put
um on en march off. He got dar atter 'w'ile, en soon's Miss
Meadows en de gals seed 'im, dey up'n giggle, en make a great
'miration kaze Brer Rabbit got on slippers. Brer Fox, he so
smart, he holler out, he did, en say he lay Brer Rabbit got de
groun'-eatch, but Brer Rabbit, he sorter shet one eye, he did,
en say, sezee:

"'I bin so useter ridin' hoss-back, ez deze ladies knows, dat I'm
gittin' sorter tender-footed;' en dey don't hear much mo' fum
Brer Fox dat day, kaze he 'member how Brer Rabbit done bin en rid
him; en hit 'uz des 'bout much ez Miss Meadows en de gals could
do fer ter keep der snickers fum gittin' up a 'sturbance 'mong de
congregashun. But, never mine dat, old Brer Rabbit, he wuz dar,
en he so brash dat leetle mo' en he'd er grab up de sludge-hammer
en er open up de racket 'fo' ennybody gun de word; but Brer Fox,
he shove Brer Rabbit out'n de way en pick up de sludge hisse'f.
Now den," continued the old man, with pretty much the air of one
who had been the master of similar ceremonies, "de progance wuz
dish yer: Eve'y gent wer ter have th'ee licks at de rock, en de
gent w'at fetch de dus' he were de one w'at gwineter take de pick
er de gals. Ole Brer Fox, he grab de sludge-hammer, he did, en he
come down on de rock--blim! No dus' ain't come. Den he draw back
en down he come ag'in--blam! No dus' ain't come. Den he spit in
his han's, en give 'er a big swing en down she come--kerblap! En
yit no dus' ain't flew'd.

"Den Brer Possum he make triul, en Brer Coon, en all de balance
un um 'cep' Brer Tarrypin, en he 'low dat he got a crick in his
neck. Den Brer Rabbit, he grab holt er de sludge, en he lipt up
in de a'r en come down on de rock all at de same time--pow!--en
de ashes, dey flew'd up so, dey did, dat Brer Fox, he tuck'n had
a sneezin' spell, en Miss Meadows en de gals dey up'n koff. Th'ee
times Brer Rabbit jump up en crack his heels tergedder en come
down wid de sludge-hammer--ker-blam!--en eve'y time he jump up,
he holler out:

"'Stan' fudder, ladies! Yer come de dus'!' en sho nuff, de dus'
come.

"Leas'ways," continued Uncle Remus, "Brer Rabbit got one er de
gals, en dey had a weddin' en a big infa'r."

"Which of the girls did the Rabbit marry?" asked the little boy,
dubiously.

"I did year tell un 'er name," replied the old man, with a great
affectation of interest, "but look like I done gone en fergit it
out'n my mine. Ef I don't disremember," he continued, "hit wuz
Miss Molly Cottontail, en I speck we better let it go at dat."


XXXI. A PLANTATION WITCH

The next time the little boy got permission to call upon Uncle
Remus, the old man was sitting in his door, with his elbows on
his knees and his face buried in his hands, and he appeared to be
in great trouble. "What's the matter, Uncle Remus?" the youngster
asked. "Nuff de matter, honey--mo' dan dey's enny kyo' fer. Ef
dey ain't some quare gwines on 'roun' dis place I ain't name
Remus."

The serious tone of the old man caused the little boy to open
his eyes. The moon, just at its full, cast long, vague, wavering
shadows in front of the cabin. A colony of tree-frogs somewhere
in the distance were treating their neighbors to a serenade, but
to the little boy it sounded like a chorus of lost and long-
forgotten whistlers. The sound was wherever the imagination
chose to locate it--to the right, to the left, in the air, on
the ground, far away or near at hand, but always dim and always
indistinct. Something in Uncle Remus's tone exactly fitted all
these surroundings, and the child nestled closer to the old man.

"Yasser," continued Uncle Remus, with an ominous sigh and
mysterious shake of the head, "ef dey ain't some quare gwines on
in dish yer naberhood, den I'm de ball-headest creetur 'twix' dis
en nex' Jinawerry wuz a year 'go, w'ich I knows I ain't. Dat's
what."

"What is it, Uncle Remus?"

"I know Mars John bin drivin' Cholly sorter hard ter-day, en I
say ter myse'f dat I'd drap 'round 'bout dus' en fling nudder
year er corn in de troff en kinder gin 'im a techin' up wid de
kurrier-koam; en bless grashus! I ain't bin in de lot mo'n a
minnit 'fo' I seed sump'n wuz wrong wid de hoss, and sho' nuff
dar wuz his mane full er witch-stirrups."

"Full of what, Uncle Remus?"

"Full er witch-stirrups, honey. Ain't you seed no witch-stirrups?
Well, w'en you see two stran' er ha'r tied tergedder in a hoss's
mane, dar you see a witch-stirrup, en, mo'n dat, dat hoss done
bin rid by um."

"Do you reckon they have been riding Charley?" inquired the
little boy.

"Co'se, honey. Tooby sho dey is. W'at else dey bin doin'?"

"Did you ever see a witch, Uncle Remus?"

"Dat ain't needer yer ner dar. W'en I see coon track in de
branch, I know de coon bin 'long dar."

The argument seemed unanswerable, and the little boy asked, in a
confidential tone:

"Uncle Remus, what are witches like?"

"Dey comes diffunt," responded the cautious old darkey. "Dey
comes en dey cunjus fokes. Squinch-owl holler eve'y time he
see a witch, en w'en you hear de dog howlin' in de middle er de
night, one un um's mighty ap' ter be prowlin' 'roun'. Cunjun
fokes kin tell a witch de minnit dey lays der eyes on it, but dem
w'at ain't cunjun, hit's mighty hard ter tell w'en dey see one,
kaze dey might come in de 'pearunce un a cow en all kinder
creeturs. I ain't bin useter no cunjun myse'f, but I bin livin'
long nuff fer ter know w'en you meets up wid a big black cat in
de middle er de road, wid yaller eyeballs, dar's yo' witch fresh
fum de Ole Boy. En, fuddermo', I know dat 'tain't proned inter no
dogs fer ter ketch de rabbit w'at use in a berryin'-groun'. Dey
er de mos' ongodlies' creeturs w'at you ever laid eyes on,"
continued Uncle Remus, with unction. "Down dar in Putmon County
yo' Unk Jeems, he make like he gwineter ketch wunner dem dar
graveyard rabbits. Sho nuff, out he goes, en de dogs ain't no
mo'n got ter de place fo' up jump de old rabbit right 'mong um,
en atter runnin''roun' a time or two, she skip right up ter Mars
Jeems, en Mars Jeems, he des put de gun-bar'l right on 'er en
lammed aloose. Hit tored up de groun' all 'roun', en de dogs, dey
rush up, but dey wa'n't no rabbit dar; but bimeby Mars Jeems, he
seed de dogs tuckin' der tails 'tween der legs, en he look up, en
dar wuz de rabbit caperin' 'roun' on a toom stone, en wid dat
Mars Jeems say he sorter feel like de time done come w'en yo'
gran'ma was 'specktin' un him home, en he call off de dogs en put
out. But dem wuz ha'nts. Witches is deze yer kinder fokes w'at
kin drap der body en change inter a cat en a wolf en all kinder
creeturs."

"Papa says there ain't any witches," the little boy interrupted.

"Mars John ain't live long ez I is," said Uncle Remus, by way of
comment. "He ain't bin broozin' roun' all hours er de night en
day. I know'd a nigger w'ich his brer wuz a witch, kaze he up'n
tole me how he tuck'n kyo'd 'im; en he kyo'd 'im good, mon."

"How was that?" inquired the little boy.

"Hit seem like," continued Uncle Remus, "dat witch fokes is got a
slit in de back er de neck, en w'en dey wanter change derse'f,
dey des pull de hide over der head same ez if 'twuz a shut, en
dar dey is."

"Do they get out of their skins?" asked the little boy, in an
awed tone.

"Tooby sho, honey. You see yo' pa pull his shut off? Well, dat
des 'zackly de way dey duz. But dish yere nigger w'at I'm tellin'
you 'bout, he kyo'd his brer de ve'y fus pass he made at him. Hit
got so dat fokes in de settlement didn't have no peace. De
chilluns 'ud wake up in de mawnins wid der ha'r tangle up, en wid
scratches on um like dey bin thoo a brier-patch, twel bimeby one
day de nigger he 'low dat he'd set up dat night en keep one eye
on his brer; en sho' nuff dat night, des ez de chickens wuz
crowin' fer twelve, up jump de brer and pull off his skin en sail
out'n de house in de shape un a bat, en w'at duz de nigger do but
grab up de hide, and turn it wrong-sudout'ards en sprinkle it wid
salt. Den he lay down en watch fer ter see w'at de news wuz
gwineter be. Des 'fo' day yer come a big black cat in de do', en
de nigger git up, he did, en druv her away. Bimeby, yer come a
big black dog snuffin' roun', en de nigger up wid a chunk en
lammed 'im side er de head. Den a squinch-owl lit on de koam er
de house, en de nigger jam de shovel in de fier en make 'im flew
away. Las', yer come a great big black wolf wid his eyes shinin'
like fier coals, en he grab de hide and rush out. 'Twa'n't long
'fo' de nigger year his brer holler'n en squallin', en he tuck a
light, he did, en went out, en dar wuz his brer des a waller'n on
de groun' en squirmin' 'roun', kaze de salt on de skin wuz
stingin' wuss'n ef he had his britches lineded wid yallerjackets.
By nex' mawnin' he got so he could sorter shuffle long, but he
gun up cunjun, en ef dere wuz enny mo' witches in dat settlement
dey kep' mighty close, en dat nigger he ain't skunt hisse'f no
mo' not endurin' er my 'membunce."

The result of this was that Uncle Remus had to take the little
boy by the hand and go with him to the "big house," which the old
man was not loath to do; and, when the child went to bed, he lay
awake a long time expecting an unseemly visitation from some
mysterious source. It soothed him, however, to hear the strong,
musical voice of his sable patron, not very far away, tenderly
contending with a lusty tune; and to this accompaniment the
little boy dropped asleep:

"Hit's eighteen hunder'd, forty-en-eight,
Christ done made dat crooked way straight--
En I don't wanter stay here no longer;
Hit's eighteen hunder'd, forty-en-nine,
Christ done turn dat water inter wine--
En I don't wanter stay here no longer."


XXXII. "JACKY-MY-LANTERN" *1

UPON his next visit to Uncle Remus, the little boy was
exceedingly anxious to know more about witches, but the old man
prudently refrained from exciting the youngster's imagination any
further in that direction. Uncle Remus had a board across his
lap, and, armed with a mallet and a shoe-knife, was engaged in
making shoe-pegs.

"W'iles I wuz crossin' de branch des now," he said, endeavoring
to change the subject, "I come up wid a Jacky-my-lantern, en she
wuz bu'nin' wuss'n a bunch er lightnin'-bugs, mon. I know'd she
wuz a fixin' fer ter lead me inter dat quogmire down in de swamp,
en I steer'd cle'r an' er. Yasser. I did dat. You ain't never
seed no Jacky-my-lanterns, is you, honey?"

The little boy never had, but he had heard of them, and he wanted
to know what they were, and thereupon Uncle Remus proceeded to
tell him.

"One time," said the old darkey, transferring his spectacles from
his nose to the top of his head and leaning his elbows upon his
peg-board, "dere wuz a blacksmif man, en dish yer blacksmif man,
he tuck'n stuck closer by his dram dan he did by his bellus.
Monday mawnin' he'd git on a spree, en all dat week he'd be on a
spree, en de nex' Monday mawnin' he'd take a fresh start. Bimeby,
one day, atter de blacksmif bin spreein''roun' en cussin'
might'ly, he hear a sorter rustlin' fuss at de do', en in walk de
Bad Man."

"Who, Uncle Remus?" the little boy asked.

"De Bad Man, honey; de Ole Boy hisse'f right fresh from de ridjun
w'at you year Miss Sally readin' 'bout. He done hide his hawns,
en his tail, en his hoof, en he come dress up like w'ite fokes.
He tuck off his hat en he bow, en den he tell de blacksmif who he
is, en dat he done come atter 'im. Den de black-smif, he gun ter
cry en beg, en he beg so hard en he cry so loud dat de Bad Man


 


Back to Full Books