Nights with Uncle Remus (45 page)

“Well, den, w'en Brer Rabbit see dem ar shoes he feel mighty bad, but he aint let on. He bow ter Mr. Dog mighty perlite, an' Mr. Dog he bow back, he did, an' dey pass de time er day, kaze dey 'uz ole 'quaintance. Brer Rabbit, he say:

“ ‘Mr. Dog, whar you gwine all fix up like dis?'

“ ‘I gwine ter town, Brer Rabbit; whar you gwine?'

“ ‘I thought I go ter town myse'f fer ter git me new pa'r shoes, kaze my ole uns done wo' out en dey hu'ts my foots so bad I can't w'ar um. Dem mighty nice shoes w'at you got on, Mr. Dog; whar you git um?'

“ ‘Down in town, Brer Rabbit, down in town.'

“ ‘Dey fits you mighty slick, Mr. Dog, an' I wish you be so good ez ter lemme try one un um on.'

“Brer Rabbit talk so mighty sweet dat Mr. Dog sot right flat on de groun' an' tuck off one er de behime shoes, an' loant it ter Brer Rabbit. Brer Rabbit, he lope off down de road en den he come back. He tell Mr. Dog dat de shoe fit mighty nice, but wid des one un um on, hit make 'im trot crank-sided.

“Well, den, Mr. Dog, he pull off yuther behime shoe, an' Brer Rabbit trot off an' try it. He come back, he did, an' he say:

“ ‘Dey mighty nice, Mr. Dog, but dey sorter r'ars me up behime me, an' I dunner 'zackly how dey feels.'

“Dis make Mr. Dog feel like he wanter be perlite, an' he take off de befo' shoes, an' Brer Rabbit put um on an' stomp his foots, an 'low:

“ ‘Now dat sorter feel like shoes;' an' he rack off down de road, an' w'en he git whar he oughter tu'n 'roun', he des lay back he years an' keep on gwine; an' 'twan't long 'fo' he git outer sight.

“Mr. Dog, he holler, an' tell 'im fer ter come back, but Brer Rabbit keep on gwine; Mr. Dog, he holler, Mr. Rabbit, he keep on gwine. An' down ter dis day,” continued 'Tildy, smacking her lips, and showing her white teeth, “Mr. Dog bin a runnin' Brer Rabbit, an' ef you'll des go out in de woods wid any Dog on dis place, des time he smell de Rabbit track, he'll holler an' tell 'im fer ter come back.”

“Dat's de Lord's trufe!” said Aunt Tempy.

LXII

Daddy Jack appeared to enjoy 'Tildy's story as thoroughly as the little boy.

“ 'E one fine tale. 'E mekky me lahff tell tear is come in me y-eye,” the old African said. And somehow or other 'Tildy seemed to forget her pretended animosity to Daddy Jack, and smiled on him as pleasantly as she did on the others. Uncle Remus himself beamed upon each and every one, especially upon Aunt Tempy; and the little boy thought he had never seen everybody in such good-humor.

“Sis Tempy,” said Uncle Remus, “I speck it's yo' time fer ter put in.”

“I des bin rackin' my min',” said Aunt Tempy, thoughtfully. “I see you fixin' dat ar hawn, un terreckerly hit make me think 'bout a tale w'at I aint year none un you tell yit.”

Uncle Remus was polishing a long cow's-horn, for the purpose of making a hunting-horn for his master.

“Hit come 'bout one time dat all de creeturs w'at got hawns tuck a notion dat dey got ter meet terge'er un have a confab fer ter see how dey gwine take keer deyse'f, kaze dem t'er creeturs w'at got tush un claw, dey uz des a snatchin' um fum 'roun' eve'y cornder.”

“Tooby sho!” said Uncle Remus, approvingly.

“Dey sont out wud, de hawn creeturs did, un dey tuck'n meet terge'er way off in de woods. Man—Sir!—dey wuz a big gang un um, un de muster dey had out dar 'twan't b'ar tellin' skacely. Mr. Bull, he 'uz dar, un Mr. Steer, un Miss Cow”—

“And Mr. Benjamin Ram, with his fiddle,” suggested the little boy.

—“Yes, 'n Mr. Billy Goat, un Mr. Unicorn”—

“En ole man Rinossyhoss,” said Uncle Remus.

—“Yes, 'n lots mo' w'at I aint know de names un. Man—Sir!—dey had a mighty muster out dar. Ole Brer Wolf, he tuck'n year' bout de muster, un he sech a smarty dat nothin' aint gwine do but he mus' go un see w'at dey doin'.

“He study 'bout it long time, un den he went out in de timber un cut 'im two crooked sticks, un tie um on his head, un start off ter whar de hawn creeturs meet at. W'en he git dar Mr. Bull ax 'im who is he, w'at he want, whar he come frum, un whar he gwine. Brer Wolf, he 'low:

“ ‘Ba-a-a! I'm name little Sook Calf!' ”

“Eh-eh! Look out, now!” exclaimed 'Tildy, enthusiastically.

“Mr. Bull look at Brer Wolf mighty hard over his specks, but atter a w'ile he go off some'rs else, un Brer Wolf take his place in de muster.

“Well, den, bimeby, terreckerly, dey got ter talkin' un tellin' der 'sperence des like de wite folks does at class-meetin'. W'iles dey 'uz gwine on dis away, a great big hoss-fly come sailin' 'roun', un Brer Wolf tuck'n fergit hisse'f, un snap at 'im.

“All dis time Brer Rabbit bin hidin' out in de bushes watchin' Brer Wolf, un w'en he see dis he tuck'n break out in a laugh. Brer Bull, he tuck'n holler out, he did:

“ ‘Who dat laughin' un showin' der manners?'

“Nobody aint make no answers, un terreckerly Brer Rabbit holler out:

“De hawn creeturs dey all look 'roun' un wonder w'at dat mean, but bimeby dey go on wid dey confab. 'Twan't long 'fo' a flea tuck'n bite Brer Wolf 'way up on de back er de neck, un 'fo' he know what he doin', he tuck'n squat right down un scratch hisse'f wid his behime foot.”

“Enty!” exclaimed Daddy Jack. “Dar you is!” said 'Tildy.

“Brer Rabbit, he tuck'n broke-out in n'er big laugh un 'sturb um all, un den he holler out:

“Brer Wolf git mighty skeer'd, but none er de hawn creeturs aint take no notice un 'im, un 'twan't long 'fo' Brer Rabbit holler out ag'in:

“De hawn creeturs, dey go on wid der confab, but Brer Wolf git skeerder un skeerder, kaze he notice dat Mr. Bull got his eye on 'im. Brer Rabbit, he aint gin 'im no rest'. He holler out:

“Wid dat Brer Wolf make ez ef he gwine way fum dar, un he wan't none too soon, needer, kaze ole Mr. Bull splunge at 'im, en little mo' un he'd er natally to' 'im in two.”

“Did Brother Wolf get away?” the little boy asked.

“Yas, Lord!” said Aunt Tempy, with unction; “he des scooted 'way fum dar, un he got so mad wid Brer Rabbit, dat he tuck'n play dead, un wud went 'roun' dat dey want all de creeturs fer ter go set up wid 'im. Brer Rabbit, he went down dar fer ter look at 'im, un time he see 'im, he ax:

“ ‘Is he grin yit?'

“All de creeturs dey up'n say he aint grin, not ez dey knows un. Den Brer Rabbit, he 'low, he did:

“ ‘Well, den, gentermuns all, ef he aint grin, den he aint dead good. In all my 'speunce folks aint git dead good tell dey grins.'
¹⁰¹

“W'en Brer Wolf year Brer Rabbit talk dat away, he tuck'n grin fum year ter year, un Brer Rabbit, he picked up his hat un walkin'-cane un put out fer home, un w'en he got way off in de woods he sot down un laugh fit ter kill hisse'f.”

Uncle Remus had paid Aunt Tempy the extraordinary tribute of pausing in his work to listen at her story, and when she had concluded it, he looked at her in undisguised admiration, and exclaimed:

“I be bless, Sis Tempy, ef you aint wuss'n w'at I is, en I'm bad nuff, de Lord knows I is!”

LXIII

Aunt Tempy did not attempt to conceal the pleasure which Uncle Remus's praise gave her. She laughed somewhat shyly, and said:

“Bless you, Brer Remus! I des bin a settin' yer l'arnin. 'Sides dat, Chris'mus aint fur off un I speck we er all a feelin' a sight mo' humorsome dan common.”

“Dat's so, Sis Tempy. I'uz comin' thoo de lot des 'fo' supper, en I seed de pigs runnin' en playin' in de win', en I 'low ter my-se'f, sez I, ‘Sholy dey's agwine ter be a harrycane,' en den all at once hit come in my min' dat Chris'mus mightly close at han', en den on ter dat yer come de chickens a-crowin' des now en 'tain't nine er'clock. I dunner how de creeturs know Chris'mus comin', but dat des de way it stan's.”

The little boy thought it was time to think about Christmas when the night came for hanging up his stockings, and he asked Uncle Remus if it wasn't his turn to tell a story. The old man laid down the piece of glass with which he had been scraping the cow's horn, and hunted around among his tools for a piece of sandpaper before he replied. But his reply was sufficient. He said:

“One time w'iles Brer Rabbit wuz gwine thoo de woods he tuck'n strak up wid ole Brer Fox, en Brer Fox 'low, he did, dat he mighty hongry. Brer Rabbit 'low dat he aint feelin' dat away hisse'f, kaze he des bin en had er bait er w'ite muscadimes, en den he tuck'n smack he mouf en lick he chops right front er Brer Fox. Brer Fox, he ax, sezee:

“Brer Rabbit, whar de name er goodness is deze yer w'ite muscadimes, en how come I'm aint never run 'crosst um?' sezee.

“ ‘I dunner w'at de reason you aint never come up wid um,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘some folks sees straight, some sees crooked, some sees one thing, some sees n'er. I done seed dem ar w'ite muscadimes, en let 'lone dat, I done wipe um up. I done e't all dey wuz on one tree, but I lay dey's lots mo' un um 'roun' in dem neighborhoods,' sezee.

“Ole Brer Fox mouf 'gun to water, en he git mighty restless.

“ ‘Come on, Brer Rabbit; come on! Come show me whar dem ar w'ite muscadimes grows at,' sezee.

“Brer Rabbit, he sorter hang back. Brer Fox, he 'low:

“ ‘Come on, Brer Rabbit, come on!'

“Brer Rabbit, he hang back, en bimeby he 'low:

“ ‘Uh-uh, Brer Fox! You wanter git me out dar in de timber by myse'f en do sump'n ter me. You wanter git me our dar en skeer me.'

“Ole Brer Fox, he hol' up he han's, he do, en he 'low:

“ ‘I des 'clar' 'fo' gracious, Brer Rabbit, I aint gwine do no sech uv a thing. I dunner w'at kinder 'pinion you got 'bout me fer ter have sech idee in yo' head. Come on, Brer Rabbit, en less we go git dem ar w'ite muscadimes. Come on, Brer Rabbit.'

“ ‘Uh-uh, Brer Fox! I done year talk er you playin' so many prank wid folks, dat I fear'd fer ter go 'way off dar wid you.'

“Dey went on dat away,” continued Uncle Remus, endeavoring to look at the little boy through the crooked cow's horn, “twel bimeby Brer Fox promise he aint gwine ter bodder 'long er Brer Rabbit, en den dey tuck'n put out. En whar you speck dat ar muscheevous Brer Rabbit tuck'n kyar' Brer Fox?”

Uncle Remus paused and gazed around upon his audience with uplifted eyebrows, as if to warn them to be properly astonished. Nobody made any reply, but all looked expectant, and Uncle Remus went on:

“He aint kyar 'im nowhars in de roun' worl' but ter one er deze yer great big scaly-bark trees. De tree wuz des loaded down wid scaly-barks, but dey want ripe, en de green hulls shined in de sun des lak dey bin whitewash'. Brer Fox look 'stonish'. Atter w'ile he up'n 'low:

“ ‘Is dem ar de w'ite muscadimes? Mighty funny I aint fine it out 'fo' dis.'

“Ole Brer Rabbit, he scratch hisse'f en 'low:

“ ‘Dems um. Dey mayn't be ripe ez dem w'at I had fer my brekkus, but dems de w'ite muscadimes sho' ez youer bawn. Dey er red bullaces
¹⁰²
en dey er black bullaces, but deze yer, dey er de w'ite bullaces.'

“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How I gwine git um?'

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘You'll des hatter do lak I done.'

“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How wuz dat?'

“Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘You'll hatter clam fer 'm.'

“Brer Fox, sezee, ‘How I gwine clam?'

Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘Grab wid yo' han's, clamp wid yo' legs, en I'll push behime!' ”

“Man—Sir!—he's a talkin' now!” exclaimed Aunt Tempy, enthusiastically.

“Brer Fox, he clum, en Brer Rabbit, he push, twel, sho' nuff, Brer Fox got whar he kin grab de lowmos' lim's, en dar he wuz! He crope on up, he did, twel he come ter whar he kin retch de green scaly-bark, en den he tuck'n pull one en bite it, en, gentermens! hit uz dat rough en dat bitter twel little mo' en he'd a drapt spang out'n de tree.

“He holler
‘Ow!'
en spit it out'n he mouf des same ez ef 'twuz rank pizen, en he make sech a face dat you wouldn't b'leeve it skacely less'n you seed it. Brer Rabbit, he hatter cough fer ter keep fum laughin', but he make out ter holler, sezee:

“ ‘Come down, Brer Fox! Dey aint ripe. Come down en less go some'rs else.'

“Brer Fox start down, en he git 'long mighty well twel he come ter de lowmos' lim's, en den w'en he git dar he can't come down no furder, kaze he aint got no claw fer cling by, en not much leg fer clamp.

“Brer Rabbit keep on hollerin', ‘Come down!' en Brer Fox keep on studyin' how he gwine ter come down. Brer Rabbit, he 'low, sezee:

“ ‘Come on, Brer Fox! I tuck'n push you up, en ef I 'uz dar whar you is, I'd take'n push you down.'