Nights with Uncle Remus (18 page)

XVIII

“I dreamed all about Brother Fox and Brother Rabbit last night, Uncle Remus,” exclaimed the little boy when the old man came in after supper and took his seat by the side of the trundle-bed; “I dreamed that Brother Fox had wings and tried to catch Brother Rabbit by flying after him.”

“I don't 'spute it, honey, dat I don't!” replied the old man, in a tone which implied that he was quite prepared to believe the dream itself was true. “Manys en manys de time, deze long nights en deze rainy spells, dat I sets down dar in my house over ag'in de chimbley-jam—I sets dar en I dozes, en it seem lak dat ole Brer Rabbit, he'll stick he head in de crack er de do' en see my eye periently shot, en den he'll beckon back at de yuther creeturs, en den dey'll all come slippin' in on der tip-toes, en dey'll set dar en run over de ole times wid one er n'er, en crack der jokes same ez dey useter. En den ag'in,” continued the old man, shutting his eyes and giving to his voice a gruesome intonation quite impossible to describe,—“en den ag'in hit look lak dat Brer Rabbit'll gin de wink all 'roun', en den dey'll tu'n in en git up a reg'lar juberlee. Brer Rabbit, he'll retch up en take down de trivet, en Brer Fox, he'll snatch up de griddle, en Brer B'ar, he'll lay holt er de pot-hooks, en old Brer Tarrypin, he'll grab up de fryin'-pan, en dar dey'll have it, up en down, en 'roun' en 'roun'. Hit seem like ter me dat ef I kin git my mine smoove down en ketch up some er dem ar chunes w'at dey sets dar en plays, den I'd lean back yer in dish yer cheer en I'd in-trance you wid um, twel, by dis time termorrer night, you'd be settin' up dar at de supper-table 'sputin' 'longer yo' little brer 'bout de 'lasses pitcher. Dem creeturs dey sets dar,” Uncle Remus went on, “en dey plays dem kinder chunes w'at moves you fum 'way back yander; en manys de time w'en I gits lonesome kaze dey aint nobody year um 'ceppin' it's me. Dey aint no tellin' de chunes dey is in dat trivet, en in dat griddle, en in dat fryin'-pan er mine; dat dey aint. W'en dem creeturs walks in en snatches um down, dey lays Miss Sally's pianner in de shade, en Mars John's flute, hit aint no-whars.”

“Do they play on them just like a band, Uncle Remus?” inquired the little boy, who was secretly in hopes that the illusion would not be destroyed.

“Dey comes des lak I tell you, honey. W'en I shets my eyes en dozes, dey comes en dey plays, but w'en I opens my eyes dey aint dar. Now, den, w'en dat's de shape er marters, w'at duz I do? I des shets my eyes en hol' um shot, en let um come en play dem ole time chunes twel long atter bed-time done come en gone.”

Uncle Remus paused, as though he expected the little boy to ask some question or make some comment, but the child said nothing, and presently the old man resumed, in a matter-of-fact tone:

“Dat dream er yone, honey, 'bout Brer Fox wid wings, fetches up de time w'en Brer Fox en Brer Wolf had der fallin' out wid one er n'er—but I speck I done tole you 'bout dat.”

“Oh, no, you haven't, Uncle Remus! You know you haven't!” the little boy exclaimed.

“Well, den, one day, atter so long a time, Brer Wolf en Brer Fox dey got ter 'sputin' 'longer one er n'er. Brer Wolf, he tuck'n 'buse Brer Fox kaze Brer Fox let Brer Rabbit fool 'im, en den Brer Fox, he tuck'n quol back at Brer Wolf, kaze Brer Wolf let ole man Rabbit lakwise fool 'im. Dey keep on 'sputin' en 'sputin', twel bimeby dey clinch, en Brer Wolf bein' de bigges' man, 'twouldn't a bin long 'fo' he'd a wool Brer Fox, but Brer Fox, he watch he chance, he did, en he gin 'im leg bail.”

“Gave him what, Uncle Remus?”

“Gin 'im leg bail, honey. He juk loose fum Brer Wolf, Brer Fox did, en, gentermens, he des mosey thoo de woods. Brer Wolf, he tuck atter'm, he did, en dar dey had it, en Brer Wolf push Brer Fox so close, dat de onliest way Brer Fox kin save he hide is ter fine a hole some'rs, en de fus holler tree dat he come 'cross, inter it he dove. Brer Wolf fetcht a grab at 'im, but he wuz des in time fer ter be too late.

“Den Brer Wolf, he sot dar, he did, en he study en study how he gwine git Brer Fox out, en Brer Fox, he lay in dar, he did, en he study en study w'at Brer Wolf gwine do. Bimeby, Brer Wolf, he tuck'n gedder up a whole lot er chunks, en rocks, en sticks, en den he tuck'n fill up de hole whar Brer Fox went in so Brer Fox can't git out. W'iles dis wuz gwine on, ole Brer Tukky Buzzud, he wuz sailin' 'roun' 'way up in de elements, wid he eye peel fer bizness, en 'twan't long 'fo' he glance lit on Brer Wolf, en he 'low ter hisse'f, sezee:

“ ‘I'll des sorter flop down,' sezee, ‘en look inter dis, kase ef Brer Wolf hidin' he dinner dar wid de expeck'shun er findin' it dar w'en he come back, den he done gone en put it in de wrong place,' sezee.

“Wid dat ole Brer Tukky Buzzud, he flop down en sail 'roun' nigher, en he soon see dat Brer Wolf aint hidin' no dinner. Den he flop down furder, ole Brer Buzzud did, twel he lit on de top er de holler tree. Brer Wolf, he done kotch a glimpse er ole Brer Buzzud shadder, but he keep on puttin' chunks en rocks in de holler. Den, present'y, Brer Buzzud, he open up:

“ ‘W'at you doin' dar, Brer Wolf?'

“ ‘Makin' a toom-stone, Brer Buzzud.'

“Co'se Brer Buzzud sorter feel like he got intruss in marters like dis, en he holler back:

“ ‘Who dead now, Brer Wolf?'

“ ‘Wunner yo' 'quaintance, w'ich he name Brer Fox, Brer Buzzud.'

“ ‘W'en he die, Brer Wolf?'

“ ‘He aint dead yit, but he won't las' long in yer, Brer Buzzud. '

“Brer Wolf, he keep on, he did, twel he done stop up de hole good, en den he bresh de trash off'n his cloze, en put out fer home. Brer Tukky Buzzud, he sot up dar, he did, en ontankle his tail fedders, en lissen en lissen, but Brer Fox, he keep dark, en Brer Buzzud aint year nuthin'. Den Brer Buzzud, he flop he wings en sail away.

“Bimeby, nex' day, bright en early, yer he come back, en he sail all 'roun' en 'roun' de tree, but Brer Fox he lay low en keep dark, en Brer Buzzard aint year nuthin'. Atter w'ile, Brer Buzzard he sail 'roun' ag'in, en dis time he sing, en de song w'at he sing is dish yer:

“Den he sail all 'roun' en 'roun' n'er time en listen, en bimeby he year Brer Fox sing back:

“Beer, Uncle Remus? What kind of beer did they have then?” the little boy inquired.

“Now, den, honey, youer gittin' me up in a close cornder,” responded the old man, in an unusually serious tone. “Beer is de way de tale runs, but w'at kinder beer it moughter bin aint come down ter me—en yit hit seem lak I year talk some'rs dat dish yer beer wus mos' prins'ply 'simmon beer.”

This seemed to satisfy the small but exacting audience, and Uncle Remus continued:

“So, den, w'en Brer Buzzud year Brer Fox sing back, he 'low he aint dead, en wid dat, Brer Buzzud, he sail off en 'ten' ter he yuther business. Nex' day back he come, en Brer Fox, he sing back, he did, des ez lively ez a cricket in de ashes, en it keep on dis way twel Brer Fox stomach 'gun ter pinch him, en den he know dat he gotter study up some kinder plans fer ter git out fum dar. N'er day pass, en Brer Fox, he tuck'n lay low, en it keep on dat away twel hit look like ter Brer Fox, pent up in dar, dat he mus' sholy pe'sh. Las', one day Brer Buzzud come sailin' all 'roun' en 'roun' wid dat but Brer Fox, he keep dark, en Brer Buzzud, he tuck'n spishun dat Brer Fox wuz done dead. Brer Buzzud, he keep on singin', en Brer Fox he keep on layin' low, twel bimeby Brer Buzzud lit en 'gun ter cle'r 'way de trash en truck fum de holler. He hop up, he did, en tuck out one chunk, en den he hop back en lissen, but Brer Fox stay still. Den Brer Buzzud hop up en tuck out n'er chunk, en den hop back en lissen, en all dis time Brer Fox mouf 'uz waterin' w'iles he lay back in dar en des natally honed atter Brer Buzzud. Hit went on dis away, twel des 'fo' he got de hole unkivvud, Brer Fox, he break out he did, en grab Brer Buzzud by de back er de neck. Dey wuz a kinder scuffle mongs' um, but 'twan't fer long, en dat wuz de las' er ole Brer Tukky Buzzud.”

XIX

One night when the little boy made his usual visit to Uncle Remus, he found the old man sitting up in his chair fast asleep. The child said nothing. He was prepared to exercise a good deal of patience upon occasion, and the occasion was when he wanted to hear a story. But, in making himself comfortable, he aroused Uncle Remus from his nap.

“I let you know, honey,” said the old man, adjusting his spectacles, and laughing rather sheepishly—“I let you know, honey, w'en I git's my head r'ar'd back dat away, en my eyeleds shot, en my mouf open, en my chin p'intin' at de rafters, den dey's some mighty quare gwines on in my min'. Dey is dat, des ez sho ez youer settin' dar. W'en I fus year you comin' down de paf,” Uncle Remus continued, rubbing his beard thoughtfully, “I 'uz sorter fear'd you mought 'spicion dat I done gone off on my journeys fer ter see ole man Nod.”

This was accompanied by a glance of inquiry, to which the little boy thought it best to respond.

“Well, Uncle Remus,” he said, “I did think I heard you snoring when I came in.”

“Now you see dat!” exclaimed Uncle Remus, in a tone of grieved astonishment; “you see dat! Man can't lean hisse'f 'pun his 'membunce, 'ceppin' dey's some un fer ter come high-primin' roun' en 'lowin' dat he done gone ter sleep.
Shoo!
W'en you stept in dat do' dar I 'uz right in 'mungs some mighty quare notions—mighty quare notions. Dey aint no two ways; ef I 'uz ter up en let on 'bout all de notions w'at I gets in 'mungs, folks 'ud hatter come en kyar me off ter de place whar dey puts 'stracted people.

“Atter I sop up my supper,” Uncle Remus went on, “I tuck'n year some flutterments up dar 'mungs de rafters, en I look up, en dar wuz a Bat sailin' 'roun'. 'Roun' en 'roun', en 'roun' she go—und' de rafters, 'bove de rafters—en ez she sail she make noise lak she grittin' 'er toofies. Now, w'at dat Bat atter, I be bless ef I kin tell you, but dar she wuz; 'roun' en 'roun', over en under. I ax 'er w'at do she want up dar, but she aint got no time fer ter tell; 'roun' en 'roun', en over en under. En bimeby, out she flip, en I boun' she grittin' 'er toofies en gwine 'roun' en 'roun' out dar, en dodgin' en flippin' des lak de elements wuz full er rafters en cobwebs.

“W'en she flip out I le'nt my head back, I did, en 'twa'nt no time 'fo' I git mix up wid my notions. Dat Bat wings so limber en 'er will so good dat she done done 'er day's work dar 'fo' you could 'er run ter de big house en back. De Bat put me in min' er folks,” continued Uncle Remus, settling himself back in his chair, “en folks put me in min' er de creeturs.”

Immediately the little boy was all attention.

“Dey wuz times,” said the old man, with something like a sigh, “w'en de creeturs 'ud segashuate tergedder des like dey aint had no fallin' out. Dem wuz de times w'en ole Brer Rabbit 'ud 'ten' lak he gwine quit he 'havishness, en dey'd all go 'roun' des lak dey b'long ter de same fambly connexion.

“One time atter dey bin gwine in cohoots dis away, Brer Rabbit 'gun ter feel his fat, he did, en dis make 'im git projecky terreckly. De mo' peace w'at dey had, de mo' wuss Brer Rabbit feel, twel bimeby he git restless in de min'. W'en de sun shine he'd go en lay off in de grass en kick at de gnats, en nibble at de mullen stalk en waller in de san'. One night atter supper, w'iles he 'uz romancin' 'roun', he run up wid ole Brer Tarrypin, en atter dey shuck han's dey sot down on de side er de road en run on 'bout ole times. Dey talk en dey talk, dey did, en bimeby Brer Rabbit say it done come ter dat pass whar he bleedz ter have some fun, en Brer Tarrypin 'low dat Brer Rabbit des de ve'y man he bin lookin' fer.

“ ‘Well den,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘we'll des put Brer Fox, en Brer Wolf, en Brer B'ar on notice, en termorrer night we'll meet down by de mill-pon' en have a little fishin' frolic. I'll do de talkin',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en you kin set back en say
yea
,' sezee.

“Brer Tarrypin laugh.

“ ‘Ef I aint dar,' sezee, ‘den you may know de grasshopper done fly 'way wid me,' sezee.

“ ‘En you neenter bring no fiddle, n'er,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘kaze dey aint gwineter be no dancin' dar,' sezee.

“Wid dat,” continued Uncle Remus, “Brer Rabbit put out fer home, en went ter bed, en Brer Tarrypin bruise 'roun' en make his way todes de place so he kin be dar 'gin 'de 'p'inted time.

“Nex' day Brer Rabbit sont wud ter de yuther creeturs, en dey all make great 'miration, kaze dey aint think 'bout dis deyse'f. Brer Fox, he 'low, he did, dat he gwine atter Miss Meadows en Miss Motts, en de yuther gals.

“Sho nuff, w'en de time come dey wuz all dar. Brer B'ar, he fotch a hook en line; Brer Wolf, he fotch a hook en line; Brer Fox, he fotch a dip-net, en Brer Tarrypin, not ter be outdone, he fotch de bait.”

“What did Miss Meadows and Miss Motts bring?” the little boy asked.

Uncle Remus dropped his head slightly to one side, and looked over his spectacles at the little boy.

“Miss Meadows en Miss Motts,” he continued, “dey tuck'n stan' way back fum de aidge er de pon' en squeal eve'y time Brer Tarrypin shuck de box er bait at um. Brer B'ar 'low he gwine ter fish fer mud-cats; Brer Wolf 'low he gwine ter fish fer horney-heads; Brer Fox 'low he gwine ter fish fer peerch fer de ladies; Brer Tarrypin 'low he gwine ter fish fer minners, en Brer Rabbit wink at Brer Tarrypin en 'low he gwine ter fish fer suckers.