1 1 i I i 11 - ^ o e S te ^IOS-ANCEI S ^OF-CALIFO/?^. ^E-UNIVERS//) ~^ ^^v g ^ ^J* S i SOF i !JU IG 8 i *. ^ OF 5 N I 3 s Q s I 1 S B 5 5. 1 ^ %OilTO-JO^ %1 /j- 'Brer Rabbit ain't see no peace w'atsumever." (See page 63.) * ~&' F* I UNCLE REMUS HIS SONGS AND HIS SAYINGS BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS NEW AND REVISED EDITION WITH ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. B.FROST NEW YORK AND LONDON D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1911 COPYRIGHT, 1880, 1895, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY ESTHER LA ROSE HARRIS Printed in the United States of America ?5 IS01 PEEFACE AND DEDICATION TO THE NEW EDITION. To Arthur Burdette Frost : MY DEAK FROST : I am expected to supply a preface for this new edition of my first book to advance from behind the curtain, as it were, and make a fresh bow to the public that has dealt with Uncle Remus in so gentle and generous a fashion. For this event the lights are to be rekindled, and I am expected to respond in some formal way to an encore that marks the fifteenth anniversary of the book. There have been other editions how many I do not remember but this is to be an entirely new one, except as to the matter : new type, new pictures, and new binding. But, as frequently happens on such occasions, \ am at a loss for a word. I seem to see before me the smiling faces of thousands of children some young and fresh, and some wearing the friendly marks of age, but all children at heart and not an unfriendly face among them. And out of the confusion, and while I IV PREFACE AND DEDICATION. am trying hard to speak the right word, I seem to hear a voice lifted above the rest, saying : " You have made some of us happy." And so I feel my heart fluttering and my lips trembling, and I have to bow silently and turn away, and hurry back into the obscurity that fits me best. Phantoms ! Children of dreams ! True, my dear Frost ; but if you could see the thousands of letters that have come to me from far and near, and all fresh from the hearts and hands of children, and from men and women who have not forgotten how to be chil- dren, you would not wonder at the dream. And such a dream can do no harm. Insubstantial though it may- be, I would not at this hour exchange it for all the fame won by my mightier brethren of the pen whom I most humbly salute. Measured by the material developments that have compressed years of experience into the space of a day, thus increasing the possibilities of life, if not its beauty, fifteen years constitute the old age of a book. Such a survival might almost be said to be due to a tiny sluice of green sap under the gray bark. Where it lies in the matter of this book, or what its source if, indeed, it be really there is more of a mystery to my middle age than it was to my prime. But it would be no mystery at all if this new edition were to be more popular than the old one. Do you know why? Because you have taken it under PREFACE AND DEDICATION. v your hand and made it yours. Because you have breathed the breath of life into these amiable brethren of wood and field. Because, by a stroke here and a touch there, you have conveyed into their quaint antics the illumination of your own inimitable humor, which is as true to our sun and soil as it is to the spirit and essence of the matter set forth. The book was mine, but now you have made it yours, both sap and pith. Take it, therefore, my dear Frost, and believe me, faithfully yours, JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS. INTEODUCTION. I AM advised by my publishers that this book is to be included in their catalogue of humorous publications, and this friendly warning gives me an opportunity to say that however humorous it may be in effect, its in- tention is perfectly serious ; and, even if it were other- wise, it seems to me that a volume written wholly in dialect must have its solemn, not to say melancholy, features. With respect to the Folk-Lore series, my purpose has been to preserve the legends themselves in their original simplicity, and to wed them permanently to the quaint dialect if, indeed, it can be called a dialect through the medium of which they have be- come a part of the domestic history of every Southern family ; and I have endeavored to give to the whole a genuine flavor of the old plantation. Each legend has its variants, but in every instance I have retained that particular version which seemed to me to be the most characteristic, and have given it without embellishment and without exaggeration. The dialect, it will be observed, is wholly different from that vii viii INTRODUCTION. of the Hon. Pompey Smash and his literary descend- ants, and different also from the intolerable misrepre- sentations of the minstrel stage, but it is at least pho- netically genuine. Nevertheless, if the language of Uncle Remus fails to give vivid hints of the really poetic imagination of the negro ; if it fails to embody the quaint and homely humor which was his most prominent characteristic ; if it does not suggest a cer- tain picturesque sensitiveness a curious exaltation of mind and temperament not to be defined by words then I have reproduced the form of the dialect merely, and not the essence, and my attempt may be accounted a failure. At any rate, I trust I have been successful in presenting what must be, at least to a large portion of American readers, a new and by no means unattract- ive phase of negro character a phase which may be considered a curiously sympathetic supplement to Mrs. Stowe's wonderful defense of slavery as it existed in the South. Mrs. Stowe, let me hasten to say, attacked the possibilities of slavery with all the eloquence of genius ; but the same genius painted the portrait of the Southern slave-owner, and defended him. A number of the plantation legends originally ap- peared in the columns of a daily newspaper The At- lanta Constitution and in that shape they attracted the attention of various gentlemen who were kind enough to suggest that they would prove to be valuable contribu- tions to myth-literature. It is but fair to say that INTRODUCTION. j x ethnological considerations formed no part of the un- dertaking which has resulted in the publication of this volume. Professor J. "W. Powell, of the Smithsonian Institution, who is engaged in an investigation of the mythology of the North American Indians, informs me that some of Uncle Kemus'^ stories appear in a number of different languages, and in various modified forms, among the Indians ; and he is of the opinion that they are borrowed by the negroes from the red-men. But this, to say the least, is extremely doubtful, since an- other investigator (Mr. Herbert H. Smith, author of Brazil and the Amazons) has met with some of these stories among tribes of South American Indians, and one in particular he has traced to India, and as far east as Siam. Mr. Smith has been kind enough to send me the proof-sheets of his chapter on The Myths and Folk-Lore of the Amazonian Indians, in which he re- produces some of the stories which he gathered while exploring the Amazons. In the first of his series, a tortoise falls from a tree upon the head of a jaguar and kills him ; in one of Uncle Eemus's stories, the terrapin falls from a shelf in Miss Meadows's house and stuns the fox, so that the latter fails to catch the rabbit. In the next, a jaguar catches a tortoise by the hind-leg as he is disappearing in his hole ; but the tortoise convinces him he is hold- ing a root, and so escapes ; Uncle Remus tells how the fox endeavored to drown the terrapin, but turned him x INTRODUCTION. loose because the terrapin declared his tail to be only a stump-root. Mr. Smith also gives the story of how the tortoise outran the deer, which is identical as to incident with Uncle Remus's story of how Brer Tarrypin outran Brer Rabbit. Then there is the story of how the tortoise pretended that he was stronger than the tapir. He tells the latter he can drag him into the sea, but the tapir retorts that he will pull the tortoise into the forest and kill him besides. The tortoise thereupon gets a vine- stem, ties one end around the body of the tapir, and goes to the sea, where he ties the other end to the tail of a whale. He then goes into the wood, midway be- tween them both, and gives the vine a shake as a signal for the pulling to begin. The struggle between the whale and tapir goes on until each thinks the tortoise is the strongest of animals. Compare this with the story of the terrapin's contest with the bear, in which Miss Meadows's bed-cord is used instead of a vine-stem. One of the most characteristic of Uncle Remus's stories is that in which the rabbit proves to Miss Meadows and the girls that the fox is his riding-horse. This is almost identical with a story quoted by Mr. Smith, where the jaguar is about to marry the deer's daughter. The cotia a species of rodent is also in love with her, and he tells the deer that he can make a riding-horse of the jaguar. " Well," says the deer, " if you can make the jaguar carry you, you shall have my daughter." There- upon the story proceeds pretty much as Uncle Remus INTRODUCTION. xi tells it of the fox and rabbit. The cotia finally jumps from the jaguar and takes refuge in a hole, where an owl is set to watch him, but he flings sand in the owl's eyes and escapes. In another story given by Mr. Smith, the cotia is very thirsty, and, seeing a man com- ing with a jar on his head, lies down in the road in front of him, and repeats this until the man puts down his jar to go back after all the dead cotias he has seen. This is almost identical with Uncle Remus' s story of how the rabbit robbed the fox of his game. In a story from Upper Egypt, a fox lies down in the road in front of a man who is carrying fowls to market, and finally succeeds in securing them. This similarity extends to almost every story quoted by Mr. Smith, and some are so nearly identical as to point unmistakably to a common origin ; but when and where ? When did the negro or the North American Indian ever come in contact with the tribes of South America ? Upon this point the author of Brazil and the Amazons, who is engaged in making a critical and comparative study of these myth-stories, writes : " I am not prepared to form a theory about these stories. There can be no doubt that some of them, found among the negroes and the Indians, had a common origin. The most natural solution would be to suppose that they originated in Africa, and were carried to South America by the negro slaves. They are certainly found among the Red Negroes ; but, unfortunately for the African theory, it is equally cer- xii INTRODUCTION. tain that they are told by savage Indians of the Amazons Valley, away up on the Tapajos, Red Negro, and Tapura. These Indians hardly ever see a negro, and their languages are very distinct from the broken Portuguese spoken by the slaves. The form of the stories, as recounted in the Tupi and Mundurucu languages, seems to show that they were originally formed in those languages or have long been adopted in them. " It is interesting to find a story from Upper Egypt (that of the fox who pretended to be dead) identical with an Amazonian story, and strongly resembling one found by you among the negroes. Varnhagen, the Brazilian historian (now Visconde de Rio Branco), tried to prove a relationship between the ancient Egyptians, or other Turanian stock, and the Tupi Indians. His theory rested on rather a slender basis, yet it must be confessed that he had one or two strong points. Do the resemblances between Old and New World stories point to a similar conclusion ? It would be hard to say with the material that we now have. "One thing is certain. The animal stories told by the negroes in our Southern States and in Brazil were brought by them from Africa. Whether they originated there, or with the Arabs, or Egyptians, or with yet more ancient nations, must still be an open question. Whether the In- dians got them from the negroes or from some earlier source is equally uncertain. We have seen enough to know that a very interesting line of investigation has been opened." Professor Hartt, in his Amazonian Tortoise Myths, quotes a story from the Riverside Magazine of Novem- ber, 1868, which will be recognized as a variant of one given by Uncle Remus. I venture to append it here, INTRODUCTION. x iii with some necessary verbal and phonetic alterations, in order to give the reader an idea of the difference be- tween the dialect of the cotton plantations, as used by Uncle Kemus, and the lingo in vogue on the rice plantations and Sea Islands of the South Atlantic States : " One time B'er Deer an' B'er Cooter (Terrapin) was courtin', and de lady did bin lub B'er Deer mo' so dan B'er Cooter. She did bin lub B'er Cooter, but she lub B'er Deer de morest. So de noung lady say to B'er Deer and B'er Cooter bofe dat dey mus' hab a ten-mile race, an' de one dat beats, she will go marry him. " So B'er Cooter say to B'er Deer : ' You has got mo' longer legs dan I has, but I will run you. You run ten mile on land, and I will run ten mile on de water ! ' " So B'er Cooter went an' git nine er his fam'ly, an' put one at ebery mile-pos', and he hisse'f, what was to run wid B'er Deer, he was right in front of de young lady's do', in de broom-grass. " Dat mornin' at nine o'clock, B'er Deer he did met B'er Cooter at de fus mile-pos', wey dey was to start fum. So he call : ' Well, B'er Cooter, is you ready ? Go long ! ' As he git on to de nex' mile-pos', he say : ' B'er Cooter ! ' B'er Cooter say : ' Hullo ! ' B'er Deer say : ' You dere ? ' B'er Cooter say : ' Yes, B'er Deer, I dere too.' "Nex' mile-pos' he jump, B'er Deer say: 'Hullo, B'er Cooter ! ' B'er Cooter say : ' Hullo, B'er Deer ! you dere too ? ' B'er Deer say : ' Ki ! it look like you gwine fer tie me ; it look like we gwine fer de gal tie ! ' " Wen he git to de nine-mile pos' he tought he git dere fus, 'cause he mek two jump ; so he holler : ' B'er Cooter ! ' xiv INTRODUCTION. B'er Cooler answer; 'You dere too?' B'er Deer say: 'It look like you gwine tie me.' B'er Cooter say : ' Go long, B'er Deer. I git dere in due season time,' which he does, and wins de race." The story of the Babbit and the Fox, as told by the Southern negroes, is artistically dramatic in this : it progresses in an orderly way from a beginning to a well-defined conclusion, and is full of striking episodes that suggest the culmination. It seems to me to be to a certain extent allegorical, albeit such an interpretation may be unreasonable. At least it is a fable thoroughly characteristic of the negro ; and it needs no scientific investigation to show why he selects as his hero the weakest and most harmless of all animals, and brings him out victorious in contests with the bear, the wolf, and the fox. It is not virtue that triumphs, but helplessness ; it is not malice, but mischievousness. It would be pre- sumptuous in me to offer an opinion as to the origin of these curious myth-stories ; but, if ethnologists should discover that they did not originate with the African, the proof to that effect should be accompanied with a good deal of persuasive eloquence. Curiously enough, I have found few negroes who will acknowledge to a stranger that they know anything of these legends ; and yet to relate one of the stories is the surest road to their confidence and esteem. In this way, and in this way only, I have been enabled to collect and verify the folk-lore included in this volume. INTRODUCTION. XV There is an anecdote about the Irishman and the rabbit which a number of negroes have told to me with great unction, and which is both funny and characteristic, though I will not undertake to say that it has its origin with the blacks. One day an Irishman who had heard people talking about "mares' nests" was going along the big road it is always the big road in contradistinc- tion to neighborhood paths and by-paths, called in the vernacular " nigh-cuts " when he came to a pumpkin- patch. The Irishman had never seen any of this fruit before, and he at once concluded that he had discovered a veritable mare's nest. Making the most of his oppor- tunity, he gathered one of the pumpkins in his arms and went on his way. A pumpkin is an exceedingly awkward thing to carry, and the Irishman had not gone far before he made a misstep, and stumbled. The pumpkin fell to the ground, rolled down the hill into a " brush-heap," and, striking against a stump, was broken. The story continues in the dialect : " Wen de punkin roll in de bresh-heap, out jump a rabbit ; en soon's de I'shmuns see dat, he take atter de rabbit en holler: * Kworp, colty ! kworp, colty ! ' but de rabbit, he des flew." The point of this is obvious. As to the songs, the reader is warned that it will be found difficult to make them conform to the ordinary rules of versification, nor is it intended that they should so conform. They are written, and are intended to be read, solely with reference to the regular and invariable xv i INTRODUCTION. recurrence of the caesura, as, for instance, the first stanza of the Kevival Hymn : " Oh, whar | shill we go | w'en de great | day comes | Wid de blow | in' er de trumpits | en de bang | in' er de drums | How man | j po' sin | ners'll be kotch'd [ out late En fine | no latch | ter de gold | en gate | " In other words, the songs depend for their melody and rhythm upon the musical quality of time, and not upon long or short, accented or unaccented syllables. I am persuaded that this fact led Mr. Sidney Lanier, who is thoroughly familiar with the metrical peculiari- ties of negro songs, into the exhaustive investigation which has resulted in the publication of his scholarly treatise on The Science of English Verse. The difference between the dialect of the legends and that of the character-sketches, slight as it is, marks the modifications which the speech of the negro has undergone even where education has played no part in reforming it. Indeed, save in the remote country dis- tricts, the dialect of the legends has nearly disappeared. I am perfectly well aware that the character-sketches are without permanent interest, but they are embodied here for the purpose of presenting a phase of negro char- acter wholly distinct from that which I have endeav- ored to preserve in the legends. Only in this shape, and with all the local allusions, would it be possible to adequately represent the shrewd observations, the curi- INTRODUCTION. xv ii cms retorts, the homely thrusts, the quaint comments, and the humorous philosophy of the race of which Uncle Remus is the type. If the reader not familiar with plantation life will imagine that the myth-stories of Uncle Remus are told night after night to a little boy by an old negro who appears to be venerable enough to have lived during the period which he describes who has nothing but pleasant memories of the discipline of slavery and who has all the prejudices of caste and pride of family that were the natural results of the system ; if the reader can imagine all this, he will find little difficulty in appreciating and sympathizing with the air of affec- tionate superiority which Uncle Remus assumes as he proceeds to unfold the mysteries of plantation lore to a little child who is the product of that practical recon- struction which has been going on to some extent since the war in spite of the politicians. Uncle Remus de- scribes that reconstruction in his Story of the War, and I may as well add here for the benefit of the curious that that story is almost literally true. J. C. H. CONTENTS. LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. ^ I. Uncle Remus initiates the Little Boy . ... 3 >^II. The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story 7 III. Why Mr. Possum loves Peace 11 IV. How Mr. Rabbit was too sharp for Mr. Fox . . 16 V. The Story of the Deluge, and how it came about . 20 VI. Mr. Rabbit grossly deceives Mr. Fox .... 24 VII. Mr. Fox is again victimized 30 VIII Mr. Fox is " outdone " by Mr. Buzzard ... 36 IX. Miss Cow falls a Victim to Mr. Rabbit ... 41 ^. X. Mr. Terrapin appears upon the Scene .... 47 XL Mr. Wolf makes a Failure 53 XII. Mr. Wolf tackles Old Man Tarrypin .... 58 XIII. The Awful Fate of Mr. Wolf 62 XIV. Mr. Fox and the Deceitful Frogs .... 68 XV. Mr. Fox goes a-hunting, but Mr. Rabbit bags the Game 72 XVI. Old Mr. Rabbit, he's a Good Fisherman ... 75 XVII. Mr. Rabbit nibbles up the Butter .... 80 XVIII. Mr. Rabbit finds his Match at last . ' . . .86 XIX. The Fate of Mr. Jack Sparrow 92 XX. How Mr. Rabbit saved his Meat 98 XXL Mr. Rabbit meets his Match again . . . .103 XX CONTENTS. FAGI XXII. A Story about the Little Rabbits . . . .107 XXIII. Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Bear Ill XXIV. Mr. Bear catches Old Mr. Bull-Frog . . .115 XXV. How Mr. Rabbit lost his Fine Bushy Tail . . 120 XXVI. Mr. Terrapin shows his Strength . . . .124 * XXVIL Why Mr. Possum has no Hair on his Tail . . 129 XXVIIL The End of Mr. Bear 135 XXIX. Mr. Fox gets into Serious Business . . . .140 XXX. Hpw Mr. Rabbit succeeded in raising a Dust . . 146 XXXI. A Plantation Witch 150 XXXII. "Jacky-my-Lantern" 156 XXXIIL Why the Negro is Black 163 XXXIV. The Sad Fate of Mr. Fox 165 PLANTATION PROVERBS 173 His SONGS. I. Revival Hymn 181 II. Camp-Meeting Song 182 III. Corn-Shucking Song . . . ... .184 IV. The Plough-hands' Song . . . ... .188 V. Christmas Play-Song . . . . . .189 VI. Plantation Play-Song 191 VII. Transcriptions : 1. A Plantation Chant 193 2. A Plantation Serenade . ' . . .195 VIII. De Big Bethel Church 196 IX. Time goes by Turns . . . ... . .197 A STO^Y OF THE WAR . . . . . .201 His SAYINGS. I. Jeems Rober'son's Last Illness . . . .215 II. Uncle Remus's Church Experience . . . .216 CONTENTS. xx i PAGE III. Uncle Remus and the Savannah Darkey . . .220 IV. Turnip Salad as a Text ...... 223 V. A Confession ........ 224 VI. Uncle Remus with the Toothache . . . . 226 VII. The Phonograph ........ 229 VIII. Race Improvement ....... 231 IX. In the Role of a Tartar ...... 233 X. A Case of Measles ....... 235 XL The Emigrants ........ 238 XII. As a Murderer ........ 240 XIII. His Practical View of Things ..... 243 XIV. That Deceitful Jug ....... 245 XV. The Florida Watermelon ...... 250 XVI. Uncle Remus preaches to a Convert . . . .253 XVII. As to Education ........ 255 XVIII. A Temperance Reformer ...... 256 XIX. As a Weather Prophet ....... 258 XX. The Old Man's Troubles ...... 260 XXL The Fourth of July ....... 262 UST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTKATIONS. FACING PAGE "Brer Rabbit ain't see no peace w'atsumever" Frontispiece " Ef you don't lemme loose I'll knock you agin 1 " . . 9 " En den he tu'n loose, he did " '"-' .32 " You feels de fleas a bitin', Brer Wolf." .... 68 " Run yer, Brer Wolf ! Yo' cow gwine in de groun' " . . 102 " Hit 'im in de mouf, Brer Fox ! " 113 " He try ter walk off wid Brer Tarrypin " . 128 "Yer come a great big black wolf" 155 The corn-shucking 185 "En wadder you speck I see?" ...... 211 "An' I sot down an' wrop myse'f roun' de whole blessid chunk". . 251 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY. ONE even- ing recently, the lady whom .^ Uncle Remus calls " Miss Sally" missed her little sev- en - year - old boy. Making search for him through the house and through the yard, she heard the sound of voices in the old man's cabin, and, look- ing through the window, saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. His head rested against the old man's arm, and he was gazing with nn expression of the most intense interest into the rough, weather-beaten 4 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. face, that beamed so kindly upon him. This is what " Miss Sally " heard : " Bimeby, one day, arter Brer Fox bin doin' all dat he could fer ter ketch llrer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bin doin' all he could fer to keep 'im fum it, Brer Fox say to hisse'f dat he'd put up a game on Brer Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n got de wuds out'n his mouf twel Brer Rabbit come a lopin' up de big road, lookin' des ez plump, en ez fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-patch. " ' Hoi' on dar, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, '"I ain't got time, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, sorter mendin' his licks. ' " ' I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rab- bit,' sez Brer Foz, sezee. " ' All right, Brer Fox, but you better holler fum whar you stan'. I'm monstus full er fleas dis mawnin',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " ' I seed Brer B'ar yistiddy,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 1 en he sorter rake me over de coals kaze you en me ain't make frens en live naberly, en I told 'im dat I'd see you.' " Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off hinef oot sorter jub'usly, en den he ups en sez, sezee : " ' All a settin', Brer Fox. Spose'n you drap roun' ter-morrer en take dinner wid me. We ain't got no .great doin's at our house, but I speck de old 'oman en UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY. 5 de chilluns kin sorter scramble roun' en git up sump'n fer ter stay yo' stummuck.' " ' I'm 'gree'ble, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. " ' Den I'll 'pen' on you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " Nex' day, Mr. Rabbit an' Miss Rabbit got up soon, 'fo' day, en raided on a gyarden like Miss Sally's out dar, en got some cabbiges, en some roas'n years, en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix up a smashin' dinner. Bimeby one er de little Rabbits, playin' out in de back- yard, come runnin' in hollerin', ' Oh, ma ! oh, ma ! I seed Mr. Fox a comin' 1 ' En den Brer Rabbit he tuck de chilluns by der years en make um set down, en den him and Miss Rabbit sorter dally roun' waitin' for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox ain't come. Atter 'while Brer Rabbit goes to de do', easy like, en peep out, en dar, stickin' fum behime de corrider, wuz de tip-een' er Brer Fox tail. Den Brer Rabbit shot de do' en sot down, en put his paws behime his years en begin fer ter sing : " ' De place wharbouts you spill de grease, Right dar youer boun' ter slide, An' whar you fine a bunch er ha'r, You'll sholy fine de hide.' " Nex' day, Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink, eu skuze hisse'f kaze he wuz too sick fer ter come, en he ax Brer Rabbit fer to come en take dinner wid him, en Brer Rabbit say he wuz 'gree'ble. 6 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. "Bimeby, w'en de shadders wuz at der shortes', Brer Rabbit he sorter brush up en santer down ter Brer Fox's house, en w'en he got dar, he hear somebody groanin', en he look in de do' en dar he see Brer Fox settin' up in a rockin' cheer all wrop up wid flannil, en he look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit look all 'roun', he did, but he ain't see no dinner. De dish-pan wuz set- tin' on de table, en close by wuz a kyarvin' knife. " ' Look like you gwineter have chicken fer dinner, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice, en fresh, en tender,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. " Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull his mustarsh, en say : ' You ain't got no calamus root, is you, Brer Fox ? I done got so now dat I can't eat no chicken 'ceppin she's THE WONDERFUL TAR-BABY STORY. 7 seasoned up wid calamus root.' En wid dat Brer Rab- bit lipt out er de do' and dodge 'mong de bushes, en sot dar watchin' fer Brer Fox ; en he ain't watch long, nudder, kaze Brer Fox flung off de flannil en crope out er de house en got whar he could cloze in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer Rabbit holler out : ' Oh, Brer Fox ! I'll des put yo' calamus root out yer on dish yer stump. Better come git it while hit's fresh,' and wid dat Brer Rabbit gallop off home. En Brer Fox ain't never kotch 'im yit, en w'at's mo', honey, he ain't gwineter." n. TEE WONDERFUL TAR-BABY STORY. " DIDN'T the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus? " asked the little boy the next evening. " He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you born Brer Fox did. One day atter Brer Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went ter wuk en got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix up a contrapshun wat he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuck dish yer Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes fer to see wat de news wuz gwineter be. En he didn't hatter wait long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de road lippity- clippity, clippity-lippity dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit come prancin' 'long 8 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. twel he spy de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his be- hime legs like he wuz 'stonished. De Tar-Baby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay low. " ' Mawnin' ! ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee ' nice wedder dis mawnin',' sezee. " Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nothin', en Brer Fox, he lay low. " ' How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate ? ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nothin'. " ' How you come on, den ? Is you deaf ? ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. * Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder,' THE WONDERFUL TAR-BABY STORY. 9 " Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. " ' Youer stuck up, dat's w'at you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, ' en gwineter you, dat's I'm kyore w'at I'm a gwine- ter do,' sezee. " Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummuck, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't sayin' noth- in'. " ' I'm gwine- ter larn you how- ter talk ter 'spect- tubble fokes ef hit's de las' ack,' sez Brer Kabbit, sezee. 'Ef you don't take off dat hat en tell me howdy, I'm gwineter bus' you wide open,' sezee. " Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. " Brer Eabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin' nothin', twel present'y Brer Eabbit draw back wid his fis', he did, en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Eight dar's whar he broke his merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low. " * Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' 5 10 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder ban', en dat stuck. Tar-Baby, sbe ain't say in' notbin', en Brer Fox, be lay low. " ' Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, sbe ain't sayin' notbin'. She des hilt on, en den Brer Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar- Baby don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' des ez innercent ez one er yo' mammy's mockin'-birds. " * Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. ' You \ "Ef you don't lemme loose I'll knock you aginl" WHY MR. POSSUM LOVES PEACE. n look sorter stuck up dis mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laughed en laughed twel he couldn't laugh no mo'. 'I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee." Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the ashes. "Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story had been told. " Dat's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old man. " He mout, en den agin he moutent. Some say Jedge B'ar come 'long en loosed 'im some say he didn't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run 'long." m. WHY MR. POSSUM LOVES PEACE. " ONE night," said Uncle Remus taking Miss Sal- ly's little boy on his knee, and stroking the child's hair thoughtfully and caressingly " one night Brer Possum call by fer Brer Coon, 'cordin' ter greement, en atter gobblin' up a dish er fried greens en smokin' a seegyar, dey rambled fort' fer ter see how de ballance er de set- tlement wuz gittin' 'long. Brer Coon, he wuz one er deze yer natchul pacers, en he racked 'long same ez- 12 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. Mars John's bay pony, en Brer Possum he went in a han'-gallup ; en dey got over heap er groun', mon. Brer Possum, he got his belly full er 'simmons, en Brer Coon, he scoop up a 'bunnunce er frogs en tadpoles. Dey amble 'long, dey did, des ez sociable ez a basket er kittens, twel bimeby dey hear Mr. Dog talkin' ter hisse'f way off in de woods. " ' Spozen he runs up on us, Brer Possum, w'at you gwineter do ? ' sez Brer Coon, sezee. Brer Possum sorter laugh 'round de cornders un his mouf. " ' Oh, ef he come, Brer Coon, Pm gwineter stan' by you,' sez Brer Possum. ' "W'at you gwineter do ? ' " ' Who ? me ? ' sez Brer Coon. ' Ef he run up onter me, I lay I give 'im one twis',' sezee." " Did the dog come ? " asked the little boy. " Go 'way, honey ! " responded the old man, in an impressive tone. " Go way ! Mr. Dog, he come en he come a zoonin'. En he ain't wait fer ter say howdy, nudder. He des sail inter de two un um. De ve'y fus pas he make Brer Possum fetch a grin f um year ter year, en keel over like he wuz dead. Den Mr. Dog, he sail inter Brer Coon, en right dar's whar he drap his money purse, kaze Brer Coon wuz cut out fer dat kinder bizness, en he fa'rly wipe up de face er de yeth wid 'im. You better b'leeve dat w'en Mr. Dog got a chance to make hisse'f skase he tuck it, en w'at der wuz lef un him went skaddlin' thoo de woods like hit WHY MR. POSSUM LOVES PEACE. 13 wuz shot outen a muskit. En Brer Coon, he sorter lick his cloze inter shape en rack off, en Brer Possum, he lay dar like he wuz dead, twel bimeby he raise up w sorter keerful like, en w'en he fine de coas' cle'r he scramble up en scamper off like sumpin was atter 'im." Here Uncle Eemus paused long enough to pick up a live coal of fire in his fingers, transfer it to the palm of his hand, and thence to his clay pipe, which he had been filling a proceeding that was viewed by the little boy with undisguised admiration. The old man then proceeded : 14 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. ' time Brer Possum met Brer Coon, Brer Coon 'fuse ter 'spon' ter his howdy, en dis make Brer Possum feel mighty bad, seein' ez how dey useter make so many 'scurshuns tergedder. " ' Wat make you hoi' yo' head so high, Brer Coon ? * sez Brer Possum, sezee. " ' I ain't runnin' wid cowerds deze days,' sez Brer Coon. ' Wen I wants you I'll sen' fer you,' sezee. " Den Brer Possum git mighty mad. " * Who's enny cowerd ? ' sezee. " * You is,' sez Brer Coon, ' dat's who. I ain't so- shatin' wid dem w'at . lays down on de groun' en plays dead w'en dar's a free fight gwine on,' sezee. " Den Brer Possum grin en laugh fit to kill hisse'f. " ' Lor', Brer Coon, you don't speck I done dat kaze I wuz 'feared, duz you ? ' sezee. ' Wy I want no mo' 'feared dan you is dis minnit. Wat wuz dey fer ter be skeered un ? ' sezee. ' I know'd you'd git away wid Mr. Dog ef I didn't, en I des lay dar watchin' you shake him, waitin' fer ter put in w'eu de time come,' sezee. " Brer Coon tu'n up his nose. " ' Dat's a mighty likely tale,' sezee, ' w'en Mr. Dog ain't ino'n tech you 'fo' you keel over, en lay dar stiff,' sezee. " * Dat's des w'at I wuz gwineter tell you 'bout,' sez Brer Possum, sezee. ' I want no mo' skeer'd dan you is right now, en' I wuz fixin' fer ter give Mr. Dog a WHY MR. POSSUM LOVES PEACE. 15 sample er my jaw,' sezee, ' but I'm de most ticklish chap w'at you ever laid eyes on, en no sooner did Mr. Dog put his nose down yer 'mong my ribs dan I got ter laughin', en I laughed twel I ain't had no use er my lira's,' sezee, l en it's a mussy unto Mr. Dog dat I wuz tick- lish, kaze a little mo' en I'd e't 'im up,' sezee. ' I don't mine fightin', Brer Coon, no mo' dan you duz,' sezee, ' but I declar' ter grashus ef I kin stan' ticklin'. Git me in a row whar dey ain't no ticklin' 'lowed, en I'm your man,' sezee. " En down ter dis day " continued Uncle Kemus, watching the smoke from his pipe curl upward over the little boy's head " down ter dis day, Brer Pos- sum's bound ter s'render w'en you tech him in de short ribs, en he'll laugh ef he knows he's gwineter be smashed fer it." 16 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. IV. HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX. " UNCLE REMUS," said the little boy one evening, when he had found the old man with little or nothing to do, "did the fox kill and eat the rabbit when he caught him with the Tar-Baby ? " " Law, honey, ain't I tell you 'bout dat ? " replied the old darkey, chuckling slyly. " I 'clar ter grashus I ought er tole you dat, but old man Nod wuz ridin' on my eyeleds 'twel a leetle mo'n I'd a dis'member'd my own name, en den on to dat here come yo' mammy hol- lerin' atter you. " Wat I tell you w'en I fus' begin ? I tole you Brer Rabbit wuz a monstus soon creetur; leas'ways dat's w'at I laid out fer ter tell you. Well, den, honey, don't you go en make no udder calkalashuns, kaze in dem days Brer Rabbit en his fambly wuz at de head er de gang w'en enny racket wuz on han', en dar dey stayed. To' you begins fer ter wipe yo' eyes 'bout Brer Rabbit, you wait en see whar'bouts Brer Rabbit, gwineter fetch up at. But dat's needer yer ner dar. " W'en Brer Fox fine Brer Rabbit mixt up wid de Tar-Baby, he feel mighty good, en he roll on de groun' en laff. Bimeby he up'n say, sezee : " Well, I speck I got you dis time, Brer Rabbit, sezee ; ' maybe I ain't, but I speck I is. You been run- HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX. 17 nin' roun' here sassin' atter me a mighty long time, but I speck you done come ter de een' er de row. You bin cuttin' up yo' capers en bouncin' 'roun' in dis neighbor- hood ontwel you come ter b'leeve yo'se'f de boss er de whole gang. En den youer allers some'rs whar you got no bizness,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. * Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a 'quaintance wid dish yer Tar-Baby ? En who stuck you up dar whar you iz ? Nobody in de roun' worril. You des tuck en jam yo'se'f on dat Tar- Baby widout waitin' fer enny invite,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ' en dar you is, en dar you'll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze I'm gwineter bobby- cue you dis day, sho,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. "Den Brer Babbit talk mighty 'umble. 18 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' I don't keer w'at you do wid me, Brer Fox,' sezee, ' so you don't fling me in dat brier-patch. Boas' me, Brer Fox,' sezee, ' but don't fling me in dat brier- patch,' sezee. " ' Hit's so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'dat I speck I'll hatter hang you, 5 " Hang me des ez high as you please, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Kabbit, sezee, ' but do fer de Lord's sake don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. " I ain't got no string,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ' en now I speck I'll hatter drown you,' sezee. " * Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Eabbit, sezee, * but do don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. " * Dey ain't no water nigh,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ' en now I speck I'll hatter skin you,' sezee. "'Skin me, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Kabbit, sezee, ' snatch out my eyeballs, far out my years by de roots, en cut off my legs,' sezee, ' but do please, Brer Fox, don't fling me in dat brier-patch,' sezee. " Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Eabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch 'im by de behime legs en slung 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch. Dar wuz a con- siderbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see w'at wuz gwine- ter happen. Bimeby he hear somebody call 'im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit settin' cross-legged on a HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX. 1 chinkapin log koamin' de pitch outen his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox know dat he bin swop off mighty bad. Brer Rabbit wuz bleedzed fer ter fling back some er his sass, en he holler out : " ' Bred en bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox bred en bawn in a brier-patch ! ' en wid dat he skip out des ez lively ez a cricket in de embers." 20 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. v. THE STORY OF THE DELUGE AND HOW IT CAME ABOUT. " ONE time," said Uncle Remus adjusting his spec- tacles so as to be able to see how to thread a large darn- ing-needle with which he was patching his coat " one time, way back yander, 'fo' you wuz borned, honey, en 'fo' Mars John er Miss Sally wuz borned way back yander 'fo' enny un us wuz borned, de anemils en de creeturs sorter 'lecshuneer roun' 'mong deyselves, twel at las' dey 'greed fer ter have a 'sembly. In dem days," continued the old man, observing a look of incredulity on the little boy's face, " in dem days creeturs had lots mo' sense dan dey got now ; let 'lone dat, dey had sense THE STORY OF THE DELUGE. 21 same like folks. Hit was tech en go wid um, too, mon, en w'en dey make up der mines w'at hatter be done, 'twant mo'n menshun'd 'fo' hit wuz done. Well, dey 'lected dat dey hatter hole er 'sembly fer ter sorter straighten out marters en hear de complaints, en w'en de day come dey wuz on han'. De Lion, he wuz dar, kase he wuz de king, en he hatter be dar. De Rhynos- syhoss, he wuz dar, en de Elephent, he wuz dar, en de Cammils, en de Cows, en plum down ter de Crawfishes, dey wuz dar. Dey wuz all dar. En w'en de Lion shuck his mane, en tuck his seat in de big cheer, den de sesshun begun fer ter commence." " What did they do, Uncle Remus ? " asked the little boy. " I can't skacely call to mine 'zackly w'at dey did do, but dey spoke speeches, en hollered, en cusst, en flung der langwidge 'roun' des like w'en yo' daddy wuz gwineter run fer de legislator en got lef. Howsomever, dey 'ranged der 'fairs, en splained der bizness. Bimeby, w'ile dey wuz 'sputin' 'longer one er nudder, de Ele- phent trompled on one er de Crawfishes. Co'se w'en dat creetur put his foot down, w'atsumever's under dar wuz boun' fer ter be squshed, en dey wa'n't nuff er dat Crawfish lef fer ter tell dat he'd bin dar. "Dis make de udder Crawfishes mighty mad, en dey sorter swarmed tergedder en draw'd up a kinder peramble wid some wharfo'es in it, en read her out in de 'sembly. But, bless grashus ! sech a racket wuz a 22 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. gwine on dat nobody ain't hear it, 'ceppin may be de Mud Turkic en de Spring Lizzud, en dere enfloons wuz pow'ful lackin'. " Bimeby, w'iles de Nunicorn wuz 'sputin' wid de Lion, en w'ile de Hyener wuz a laughin' ter hisse'f, de Elephent squshed anudder one er de Crawfishes, en a little mo'n he'd er ruint de Mud Turkic. Den de Craw- fishes, w'at dey wuz lef un um, swarmed tergedder en draw'd up anudder peramble wid sum mo' wharfo'es ; but dey might ez well er sung Ole Dan Tucker ter a harrycane. De udder creeturs wuz too busy wid der fussin' fer ter 'spon' unto de Crawfishes. So dar dey wuz, de Crawfishes, en dey didn't know w'at minnit wuz gwineter be de nex' ; en dey kep' on gittin madder en madder en skeerder en skeerder, twel bimeby dey gun de wink ter de Mud Turkic en de Spring Lizzud, en den dey bo'd little holes in de groun' en went down outer sight." " Who did, Uncle Kemus ? " asked the little boy. " De Crawfishes, honey. Dey bo'd inter de groun' en kep' on bo'in twel dey onloost de fountains er de earf ; en de waters squirt out, en riz higher en higher twel de hills wuz kivvered, en de creeturs wuz all drownded ; en all bekaze dey let on 'mong deyselves dat dey wuz bigger dan de Crawfishes." Then the old man blew the ashes from a smoking yam, and proceeded to remove the peeling. THE STORY OF THE DELUGE. 23 " Where was the ark, Uncle Kemus ? " the little boy inquired, presently. " Wich ark's dat ? " asked the old man, in a tone of well-feigned curiosity. "Noah's ark," replied the child. "Don't yon pester wid ole man Noah, honey. I boun' he tuck keer er dat ark. Dat's w'at he wuz dar fer, en dat's w'at he done. Leas'ways, dat's w'at dey tells me. But don't you bodder longer dat ark, 'ceppin' your mammy fetches it up. Dey mout er bin two deloojes, en den agin dey moutent. Ef dey wuz enny ark in dish yer w'at de Crawfishes brung on, I ain't heern tell un it, en w'en dey ain't no arks 'ronn', I ain't got no time fer ter make um en put urn in dar. Hit's gittin' yo' bedtime, honey." 24 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. VI. MR. RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES MR. FOX. ONE evening when the little boy, whose nights with Uncle Remus were as entertaining as those Arabian ones of blessed memory, had finished supper and hur- ried out to sit with his venerable patron, he found the old man in great glee. Indeed, Uncle Remus was talk- ing and laughing to himself at such a rate that the little boy was afraid he had company. The truth is, Uncle Remus had heard the child coming, and, when the rosy- cheeked chap put his head in at the door, was engaged in a monologue, the burden of which seemed to be "Ole Molly Har', Wat you doin' dar, Settin' in de cornder Smokin' yo' seegyar?" As a matter of course this vague allusion reminded the little boy of the fact that the wicked Fox was still in pursuit of the Rabbit, and he immediately put his curiosity in the shape of a question. "Uncle Remus, did the Rabbit have to go clean away when he got loose from the Tar-Baby ? " "Bless gracious, honey, dat he didn't. Who? Him ? You dunno nuthin' 'tall 'bout Brer Rabbit ef dat's de way you puttin' 'im down. Wat he gwine 'way fer? He moughter stayed sorter close twel de MR. RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES MR. FOX. 25 pitch rub off'n his ha'r, but twern't menny days 'fo' he wuz lopin' up en down de neighborhood same ez ever, en I dunno ef he wern't mo' sassier dan befo'. "Seem like dat de tale 'bout how he got mixt up wid de Tar-Baby got 'roun' 'mongst de nabers. Leas'ways, Miss Meadows en de gals got win' un' it, en de nex' time Brer Rabbit paid um a visit Miss Meadows tackled 'im 'bout it, en de gals sot up a monstus giggle- ment. Brer Rabbit, he sot up des ez cool ez a cow- cumber, he did, en let 'em run on." ""Who was Miss Meadows, Uncle Remus?" in- quired the little boy. " Don't ax me, honey. She wuz in de tale, Miss Meadows en de gals wuz, en de tale I give you like hi't wer' gun ter me. Brer Rabbit, he sot dar, he did, sorter lam' like, en den bimeby he cross his legs, he did, and wink his eye slow, en up and say, sezee : " ' Ladies, Brer Fox wuz my daddy's ridin'-hoss fer thirty year ; maybe mo', but thirty year dat I knows un,' sezee ; en den he paid um his 'specks, en tip his beaver, en march off, he did, des ez stiff en ez stuck up ez a fire-stick. "Nex' day, Brer Fox cum a callin', and w'en he gun fer ter laugh 'bout Brer Rabbit, Miss Meadows en de gals, dey ups en tells 'im 'bout w'at Brer Rabbit say. Den Brer Fox grit his tushes sho' nuff, he did, en he look mighty dumpy, but w'en he riz fer ter go he up en say, sezee : 7 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' Ladies, I ain't 'sputin' w'at you say, but I'll make Brer Rabbit chaw up his words en spit um out right yer whar you kin see 'im,' sezee, en wid dat off Brer Fox put. " En w'en he got in de big road, he shuck de dew offn his tail, en made a straight shoot fer Brer Rabbit's house. Wen he got dar, Brer Rabbit wuz spectin' un 'im, en de do' wuz shet fas'. Brer Fox knock. Nobody ain't ans'er. Brer Fox knock. Nobody ans'er. Den he knock agin blam ! blam! Den Brer Rab- bit holler out mighty weak: " * Is dat you. Brer Fox ? I want you ter run en fetch de doctor. Dat bait er pusly w'at I e't dis mawnin' is gittin' 'way wid me. Do, please, Brer Fox, run quick,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " ' I come atter you, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, MR. RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES MR. FOX. 27 sezee. ' Dar's gwineter be a party up at Miss Mead- ows's,' sezee. ' All de gals '11 be dere, en I promus' dat I'd fetch you. De gals, dey 'lowed dat hit wouldn't be no party 'ceppin' I fotch you,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. " Den Brer Rabbit say he wuz too sick, en Brer Fox say he wuzzent, en dar dey had it up and down, 'sputin' en contendin'. Brer Rabbit say he can't walk. Brer Fox say he tote 'im. Brer Rabbit say how? Brer Fox say in his arms. Brer Rabbit say he drap 'im. Brer Fox 'low he won't. Bimeby Brer Rabbit say he go ef Brer Fox tote 'im on his back. Brer Fox say he would. Brer Rabbit say he can't ride widout a saddle. Brer Fox say he git de saddle. Brer Rabbit say he can't set in saddle less he have bridle fer ter hoi' by. Brer Fox say he git de bridle. Brer Rabbit say he can't ride widout bline bridle, kaze Brer Fox be shyin' at stumps 'long de road, en fling 'im off. Brer Fox say he git bline bridle. Den Brer Rabbit say he go. Den Brer Fox say he ride Brer Rabbit mos' up ter Miss Meadows's, en den he could git down en walk de balance er de way. Brer Rabbit 'greed, en den Brer Fox lipt out atter de saddle en de bridle. " Co'se Brer Rabbit know de game dat Brer Fox wuz fixin' fer ter play, en he 'termin' fer ter outdo 'im, en by de time he koam his ha'r en twis' his mustarsh, en sorter rig up, yer come Brer Fox, saddle en bridle on, en lookin' ez peart ez a circus pony. He trot up ter de do' en stan' dar pawin' de ground en chompin' 28 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. de bit same like sho 'nuff boss, en Brer Rabbit he mount, he did, en dey amble off. Brer Fox can't see behime wid de bline bridle on, but bimeby he feel Brer Rabbit raise one er his foots. " ' Wat you doin' now, Brer Rabbit ? ' sezee. " ' Short'nin' de lef stir'p, Brer Fox,' sezee. " Bimeby Brer Rabbit raise up de udder foot. " ' Wat you doin' now, Brer Rabbit ? ' sezee. " * Pullin' down my pants, Brer Fox,' sezee. " All de time, bless grashus, honey, Brer Rabbit wer puttin' on his spurrers, en w'en dey got close to Miss Meadows' s, whar Brer Rabbit wuz to git off, en MR. RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES MR. FOX. 29 Brer Fox made a motion fer ter stan' still, Brer Rabbit slap de spurrers inter Brer Fox flanks, en you better b'leeve he got over groun'. Wen dey got ter de house, Miss Meadows en all de gals wuz settin' on de peazzer, en stidder stoppin' at de gate, Brer Eabbit rid on by, he did, en den come gallopin' down de road en up ter de hoss-rack, w'ich he hitch Brer Fox at, en den he santer inter de house, he did, en shake han's wid de gals, en set dar, smokin' his seegyar same ez a town man. Bimeby he draw in a long puff, en den let hit out in a cloud, en squar hisse'f back en holler out, he did : " ' Ladies, ain't I done tell you Brer Fox wuz de ridin'-hoss fer our fambly? He sorter losin' his gait now, but I speck I kin fetch 'im all right in a mont' er so,' sezee. " En den Brer Rabbit sorter grin, he did, en de gals giggle, en Miss Meadows, she praise up de pony, en dar wuz Brer Fox hitch fas' ter de rack, en couldn't he'p hisse'f." "Is that all, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy as the old man paused. " Dat ain't all, honey, but 'twon't do fer ter give out too much cloff fer ter cut one pa'r pants," replied the old man sententiously. 30 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. MR. FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED. WHEN "Miss Sally's" little boy went to Uncle Remus the next night to hear the conclusion of the adventure in which the Rabbit made a riding-horse of the Fox to the great enjoyment and gratification of Miss Meadows and the girls, he found the old man in a bad humor. " I ain't tellin' no tales ter bad chilluns," said Uncle Remus curtly. "But, Uncle Remus, I ain't bad," said the little boy plaintively. " Who dat chunkin' dem chickens dis mawnin' ? Who dat knockin' out fokes's eyes wid dat Yallerbam- mer sling des 'fo' dinner ? Who dat sickin' dat pinter puppy atter my pig ? Who dat scatterin' my ingun sets? Who dat flingin' rocks on top er my house, w'ich a little mo' en one un em would er drap spang on my head ? " " Well, now, Uncle Remus, I didn't go to do it. I won't do so any more. Please, Uncle Remus, if you will tell me, I'll run to the house and bring you some " Seein' urn's better'n hearin' tell un um," replied the old man, the severity of his countenance relaxing somewhat ; but the little boy darted out, and in a few MR. FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED. 31 minutes came running back with his pockets full and his hands full. " I lay yo' mammy '11 'spishun dat de rats' stum- mucks is widenin' in dis neighborhood w'en she come fer ter count up 'er cakes," said Uncle Kemus, with a chuckle. "Deze," he continued, dividing the cakes into two equal parts " dese I'll tackle now, en dese I'll lay by fer Sunday. " Lemme see. I mos' dis'member wharbouts Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit wuz." " The rabbit rode the fox to Miss Meadows's, and hitched him to the horse-rack," said the little boy. " Wy co'se he did," said Uncle Remus. " Co'se he did. "Well, Brer Rabbit rid Brer Fox up, he did, en tied 'im to de rack, en den sot out in de peazzer wid de gals a smokin' er his seegyar wid mo' proudness dan w'at you mos' ever see. Dey talk, en dey sing, en dey play on de pean- ner, de gals did, twel bimeby hit come time fer Brer Rabbit fer to be gwine, en he tell um all good-by, en strut out to de hoss-rack same's 32 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. ef he wuz de king er de patter-rollers,* en den he mount Brer Fox en ride off. " Brer Fox ain't sayin' nuthin' 'tall. He des rack off, he did, en keep his inouf shet, en Brer Rabbit know'd der wuz bizness cookin' up fer him, en he feel monstus skittish. Brer Fox amble on twel he git in de long lane, outer sight er Miss Meadows's house, en den he tu'n loose, he did. He rip en he r'ar, en he cuss, en he swar ; he snort en he cavort." " What was he doing that for, Uncle Remus ? " the little boy inquired. " He wuz tryin' fer ter fling Brer Rabbit off'n his back, bless yo' soul ! But he des might ez well er rastle wid his own shadder. Every time he hump hisse'f Brer Rabbit slap de spurrers in 'im, en dar dey had it, up en down. Brer Fox fa'rly to' up de groun' he did, en he jump so high en he jump so quick dat he mighty nigh snatch his own tail off. Dey kep' on gwine on dis way twel bimeby Brer Fox lay down en roll over, he did, en dis sorter onsettle Brer Rabbit, but by de time Brer Fox got back on his footses agin, Brer Rabbit wuz gwine thoo de under- bresh mo' samer dan a race-hoss. Brer Fox he lit out * Patrols. In the country districts, order was kept on the plan- tations at night by the knowledge that they were liable to be visited at any moment by the patrols. Hence a song current among the negroes, the chorus of which was : " Run, nigger, run ; patter-roller ketch you Run, nigger, run ; hit's almos' day." "En den he tu'n loose, he did." MR. FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED. 33 atter 'im, he did, en he push Brer Rabbit so close dat it wuz 'bout all he could do fer ter git in a holler tree. Hole too little fer Brer Fox fer : ter git in, en he hatter lay down en res' en gedder his mine terged- der. " While he wuz lay in' dar, Mr. Buzzard come flop pin' 'long, en seein' Brer Fox stretch out on de groun', he lit en view de pre- musses. Den Mr. Buz- zard sorter shake his wing, en put his head on one side, en say to hisse'f like, sezee : " ' Brer Fox dead, en I so sor- ry,' sezee. '"No I ain't dead, nudder,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. ' I got ole man Rabbit pent up in yer,' sezee, ' en I'm a gwine- 34 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. ter git 'im dis time ef it take twel Chris'mus,' " Den, atter some mo' palaver, Brer Fox make a bargain dat Mr. Buzzard wuz ter watch de hole, en keep Brer Rabbit dar wiles Brer Fox went atter his axe. Den Brer Fox, he lope off, he did, en Mr. Buz- zard, he tuck up his stan' at de hole. Bimeby, w'en all git still, Brer Rabbit sorter scramble down close ter de hole, he did, en holler out : " ' Brer Fox ! Oh ! Brer Fox ! ' " Brer Fox done gone, en nobody say nuthin'. Den Brer Rabbit squall out like he wuz mad ; sezee : " ' You needn't talk less you wanter,' sezee ; ' I knows youer dar, en I ain't keerin',' sezee. 'I des wanter tell you dat I wish mighty bad Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz here,' sezee. " Den Mr. Buzzard try ter talk like Brer Fox : " ' Wat you want wid Mr. Buzzard ? ' sezee. "'Oh, nuthin' in 'tickler, 'cep' dere's de fattes' gray squir'l in yer dat ever I see,' sezee, ' en ef Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz 'roun' he'd be mighty glad fei ter git 'im,' sezee. "'How Mr. Buzzard gwine ter git 'im?' sez de Buzzard, sezee. " ' Well, dar's a little hole roun' on de udder side er de tree,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en ef Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz here so he could take up his stan' dar,' sezee, * I'd drive dat squir'l out,' sezee. MR. FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED. 35 " ' Drive 'im out, den,' sez Mr. Buzzard, sezee, ' en I'll see dat Brer Tukkey Buzzard gits 'im,' sezee. " Den Brer Rabbit kick up a racket, like he wer' drivin' sura pin' out, en Mr. Buzzard he rush 'roun' fer ter ketch de squir'l, en Brer Rab- bit, he dash out, he did, en he des fly fer home." At this point Un- cle Remus took one of the tea- cakes, held his head back, opened his mouth, dropped the cake in with a sudden motion, looked at the little boy with an expression of astonishment, and then closed his eyes, and begun to chew, mumbling as an accompaniment the plaintive tune of " Don't you Grieve atter Me." The seance was over ; but, before the little boy went into the "big house," Uncle Remus laid his rough hand tenderly on the child's shoulder, and re- marked, in a confidential tone : 36 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " Honey, you mus' git up soon Chris'mus mawnin' en open de do' ; kase I'm gwineter bounce in on Marse John en Miss Sally, en holler Chris'mus gif des like I useter endurin' de farmin' days fo' de war, w'en ole Miss wuz 'live. I boun' dey don't fergit de ole nigger, nudder. Wen you hear me callin' de pigs, honey, you des hop up en onfassen de do'. I lay I'll give Marse John one er dese yer 'sprize parties." VIII. MR. FOX IS "OUTDONE" BY MR. BUZZARD. "Er I don't run inter no mistakes," remarked Uncle Remus, as the little boy came tripping in to see him after supper, " Mr. Tukkey Buzzard wuz gyardin' de holler whar Brer Rabbit went in at, en w'ich he come out un." The silence of the little boy verified the old man's recollection. " Well, Mr. Buzzard, he feel mighty lonesome, he did, but he done prommust Brer Fox dat he'd stay, en he 'terrain' fer ter sorter hang 'roun' en jine in de joke. En he ain't hatter wait long, nudder, kase bime- by yer come Brer Fox gallopin' thoo de woods wid his axe on his shoulder. " ( How you speck Brer Rabbit gittiii' on, Brer Buz- zard ? ' sez Brer Fox, sezee. MR. FOX IS "OUTDONE" BY MR. BUZZARD. 37 " ' Oh, he in dar,' sez Brer Buzzard, sezee. ' He mighty still, dough. I speck he takin' a nap,' sezee. " ' Den I'm des in time f er ter wake 'im up,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. En wid dat he fling off his coat, en spit in his han's, en grab de axe. Den he draw back en come down on de tree pow ! En eve'y time he come down wid de axe pow ! Mr. Buzzard, he step high, he did, en holler out : " ' Oh, he in dar, Brer Fox. He in dar, sho.' " En eve'y time a chip ud fly off, Mr. Buzzard, he'd jump, en dodge, en hole his head sideways, he would, en holler : 38 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " 4 He in dar, Brer Fox. I done heerd 'ira. He in dar, sho.' " En Brer Fox, he lammed away at dat holler tree, he did, like a man maulin' rails, twel bimeby, atter he done got de tree mos' cut thoo, he stop fer ter ketch his bref, en he seed Mr. Buzzard laughin' behime his back, he did, en right den en dar, widout gwine enny fudder, Brer Fox, he smelt a rat. But Mr. Buzzard, he keep on holler'n : " ' He in dar, Brer Fox. He in dar, sho. I done seed 'im.' " Den Brer Fox, he make like he peepin' up de holler, en he say, sezee : " ' Run yer, Brer Buzzard, en look ef dis ain't Brer Rabbit's foot hanging down yer.' "En Mr. Buzzard, he come steppin' up, he did, same ez ef he wer treddin' on kurkle-burs, en he stick his head in de hole ; en no sooner did he done dat dan Brer Fox grab 'im. Mr. Buzzard flap his wings, en scramble 'roun' right smartually, he did, but 'twant no use. Brer Fox had de 'vantage er de grip, he did, en he hilt 'im right down ter de groun'. Den Mr. Buz- zard squall out, sezee : " ' Lemme 'lone, Brer Fox. Tu'n me loose,' sezee; 'Brer Rabbit'll git out. Youer gittin' close at 'im,' sezee, ' en leb'm mo' licks'll fetch 'im,' sezee. " ' I'm nigher ter you, Brer Buzzard,' sez Brer Fox, ME. FOX IS "OUTDONE" BY MR. BUZZARD. 39 sezee, ' dan I'll be ter Brer Rabbit dis day,' sezee. 1 Wat you fool me fer ? ' sezee. " * Lemme 'lone, Brer Fox,' sez Mr. Buzzard, sezee ; 'my ole 'oman waitin' fer me. Brer Rabbit in dar,' " ' Dar's a bunch er his fur on dat black-be'y bush,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en dat ain't de way he come,' sezee. " Den Mr. Buzzard up'n tell Brer Fox how 'twuz, en he low'd, Mr. Buzzard did, dat Brer Rabbit wuz de lowdownest w'atsizname w'at he ever run up wid. Den Brer Fox say, sezee : " ' Dat's needer here ner dar, Brer Buzzard,' sezee. ' I lef you yer fer ter watch dish yere T iole, en I lef Brer Rabbit in dar. I comes back en I fines you at de hole en Brer Rabbit ain't in dar,' sezee. ' I'm gwine- ter make you pay fer't. I done bin tampered wid twel plum' down ter de sap sucker'll set on a log en sassy me. I'm gwinter fling you in a bresh-heap en burn you up,' sezee. " ' Ef you fling me on der fier, Brer Fox, I'll fly 'way,' sez Mr. Buzzard, sezee. "'Well, den, I'll settle yo' hash right now,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, en wid dat he grab Mr. Buzzard by de tail, he did, en make fer ter dash 'im 'gin de groun', but des 'bout dat time de tail fedders come out, en Mr. Buzzard sail off like one er dese yer berloons ; en ez he riz, he holler back : LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' You gimme good start, Brer Fox,' sezee, en Brer Fox sot dar en watch 'im fly outer sight." "But what be- came of the Rab- bit, Uncle Remus ? " asked the little boy. " Don't you pes- ter 'longer Brer Rabbit, honey, en don't you fret 'bout 'im. You'll year whar he went en how he come out. Dish yer cole snap rastles wid my bones, now," continued the old man, putting on his hat and pick- ing up his walking-stick. " Hit rastles wid me mons- tus, en I gotter rack 'roun' en see if I kin run up agin some Chris'mus leavin's." MISS COW FALLS A VICTIM TO MR. BABBIT. 4-1 IX. MISS COW FALLS A VICTIM TO MR. RABBIT. " UNCLE REMUS," said the little boy, " what became of the Rabbit after he fooled the Buzzard, and got out of the hollow tree ? " "Who? Brer Rabbit? Bless yo' soul, honey, Brer Rabbit went skippin' 'long home, he did, des ez sassy ez a jay-bird at a sparrer's lies'. He went gallopin' 'long, he did, but he feel mighty tired out, en stiff in his jints, en he wuz mighty nigh dead for sumpin fer ter drink, en bimeby, w'en he got mos' home, he spied ole Miss Cow feedin' roun' in a fieP, he did, en he 'terrain' fer ter try his ban' wid 'er. Brer Rabbit know mighty well dat Miss Cow won't give 'im no milk, kaze she done 'fuse 'im mo'n once, en w'en his ole 'oman wuz sick, at dat. But never mind dat. Brer Rabbit sorter dance up 'long side er de fence, he did, en holler out : " ' Howdy, Sis Cow,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. " 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 en inguns eve'y time dey mouf water. " Now den, honey, you take dis yer w'ip," con- tinued the old man, twining the leather thong around the little boy's neck, " en scamper up ter de big 'ouse en tell Miss Sally f er ter gin you some un it de nex' time she fine yo' tracks in de sugar-bairl." MR. RABBIT MEETS HIS MATCH AGAIN. " DEKE wuz nudder man dat sorter play it sharp on Brer Eabbit," said Uncle Remus, as, by some myste- rious 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," con- tinued 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 104 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 h'ant, 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 'eluded dey'd sorter go snacks, en crap tergedder. Hit wuz a mighty good year, en de truck tu'n out inonstus 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 gole- mine des 'cross de river. MR. RABBIT MEETS HIS MATCH AGAIX. 1Q5 " ' You come en go 'longer me, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Tukky Buzzard, sezee. ' I'll scratch en you kin grabble, en 'tween de two un us we'll make short wuk er dat gole-mine,' Brer 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 cole. 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 Buz- zard, he squot down, he did, en spread his wings, en Brer Rabbit, he mounted, en up dey riz." There was 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 106 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 Kabbit, he know w'ich way de win' 'uz blowin', en by de time ole Brer Buzzard got hisse'f ballunce on a lim', Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee : " ' Wiles 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 gole-mine er my own, one w'at I make my- se'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 : " ' Hole on, Brer Buzzard ! Don't flop yo' wings w'en you laff, kaze den ef you duz, sump'n 'ill drap fum up yer, en my gole-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 promus 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." A STORY ABOUT THE LITTLE RABBITS. 107 A STORY ABOUT THE LITTLE RABBITS. " FINE um whar you will en w'en you may," re- marked 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'. Wen 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 " 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 lit- tle Rabbits wuz so fat dat dey fa'rly make his mouf 108 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. water, but he 'member 'bout Brer Wolf, en he skeered fer ter gobble um up ceppin' he got some skuse. De little Eabbits, dey mighty skittish, en dey sorter huddle deyse'f up ter- gedder en watch Brer Fox mo- tions. Brer Fox, he sot dar en study w'at sorter skuse he gwineter make up. Birneby 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 dey 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 : A STORY ABOUT THE LITTLE RABBITS. 109 " ' 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, twell 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 hole 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 HO LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. twel dey could see der own sins, ., but de wood ain't budge. Den ^5T ^ &>~ dey hear de little bird singin', en A dish yer's de song w'at he sing : " ' Spit in yo' ban's en tug it en toll it, En git behine it, en push it, en pole it ; Spit in yo' ban'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 quit comin' en set+in' 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 for'ds 'fo' de winder, en de fus' news you know she'll be spectin' un you." MR. RABBIT AND MR. BEAR. HI XXIII. MR. RABBIT AND MR. BEAR. " DAR wnz 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 112 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 slip- pin' 'long knot kotch lin' flew'd en de yeth. en crope thoo de crack, de loop- 'im behime de fo' legs, en de sap- up, en darhewuz 'twix' de heavens Dar he swung, en he fear'd he gvvineter fall, en he fear'd he wer'n't gwineter fall. Wile 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 : : ' Hit 'im in de mouf, Brer Fox ! : MR. RABBIT AND MR. BEAR. 113 " ' Heyo, Brer Rabbit ! How you come on dis mawnin' ? ' " l 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 tnakin' 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 ter take keer un, en den he make sech nice skeer- crow. 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 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 urn went runnin' back down ter der goober-patch, en w'en dey got dar, sho 'nuff, dar wuz ole Brer B'ar. " * Oh, yes ! youer 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 de mouf'; en Brer 'Fox, he draw back wid de walkin'- 18 114 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. cane, en blip he tuck 'im, en eve'y time Brer B'ar'd try ter 'splain, Brer Fox'd shower down on him. " Wiles all dis 'uz gwine on, Brer Kabbit, 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 MR. BEAR CATCHES OLD MR. BULL-FROG. H5 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 ? " in- quired 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, count- ing 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." 116 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " 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 wa't fool 'im, en he say dat he'd come up wid 'im ef 'twuz a year atter- wuds. But 'twan't no year, an 'twan't no mont', en mo'n dat, hit wan'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 beholes, who should he see but ole Brer Bull-frog settin' out on de aidge er de mud - puddle 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. Wen Brer B'ar got his clampers on 'im good, he sot down en talk at 'im. " ' Howdy, Brer Bull-frog, howdy ! En how yo' MR. BEAR CATCHES OLD MR. BULL-FROG. H7 fambly ? I hope deyer well, Brer B;Jl-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 wat's up, en he don't say nuthin'. Ole Brer B'ar he keep runnin' on : " ' Youer 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 gK mine.' " Den Brer Bull-frog, he gin ter git skeerd, he did, en he up'n say : " ' W'at I bin doin', Brer B'ar ? How I bin foolin' you ? ' " Den Brer B'ar lafE, 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 Rab- bit 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 ter- gedder en foam at de mouf, en Brer Bull-frog holler out : 118 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' 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 Bull- frog 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 ! " MR. BEAR CATCHES OLD MR. BULL-FROG. H9 " Did he kill the Frog, Uncle Eemus?" asked the little boy, as the old man paused to scoop up a thimble- ful 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 'twern't funny in dem days, en 'twouldn't be funny now ef folks know'd much 'bout de Bull-frog lang- widge ez dey useter. Dat's w'at." 120 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 develop- ments 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 arid 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 de- jection ; and this was intensified by a groan that seemed to be the result of great mental agony. Final- HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS FINE BUSHY TAIL. 121 ly lie spoke, but not as addressing himself to the little boy. " I notices dat dem fokes w'at makes a great 'mira- tion '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 dreinp it." "Well, but Uncle Ke- mus, 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 natally gittin' moldy." 19 122 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. The little boy still remained quiet, and Uncle Re- mus 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 ! Wen dey pass de time er day wid wunner nudder, Brer Rabbit, he open up de con- fab, 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, HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS FINE BUSHY TAIL. 123 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 sun down, 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 cole, 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. 124 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " 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 man- ner ; " he wuz de out'nes' man er de whole gang. He wuz dat." The little boy sat perfectly quiet, betraying no im- ' patience 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 hope * 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 f um stickin', en Brer Tarrypin, he klum up in a cheer, * Holp ; helped. MR. TERRAPIN SHOWS HIS STRENGTH. 125 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 swiff es' ; but Brer Tarry pin, he rock 'long in de cheer en watch Brer Fox, he say he de sharpes', but Brer Tarrypin he rock 'long. Brer Wolf, de say he de mos' suvvigus, but Brer Tarrypin, 126 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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, " * 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 Eabbit 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 Mead- ows, 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 g'in, 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 Kemus, in a tone at once confidential and argumentative, " wern'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- MR. TERRAPIN SHOWS HIS STRENGTH. 127 pull Brer B'ar. But dey got de bed-cord atter w'ile, en den dey all put out ter de branch. Wen 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 128 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. inter de water, he did, en tie de bedcord 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 bofe 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 hope Brer B'ar pull, but des like he didn't, en den dey all hope 'im, en, bless grashus ! w'iles dey wuz all a pullin', Brer Tarrypin, he holler, en ax urn 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. ' Youer 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." He try ter walk off wid Brer Tarrypin." WHY MR. POSSUM HAS NO HAIR ON HIS TAIL. 129 " 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. XXVII. WHY MR. POSSUM HAS NO HAIR ON HIS TAIL. " HIT look like ter me," said Uncle Remus, frown- ing, 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 youer 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 lit- tle 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 bless- in' dat you wa'n't brung home on a litter wid bofe eyeballs hangin' out en one year clean gone ; dat's w'at 20 130 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. '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 beholes, 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' gram'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 Fa- vers'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 gwin- eter go mixin' up yo'se'f wid de riff-raff er crea- shun." The little boy made no further attempt to justify his conduct. He was a very wise little boy, and he knew that, in Uncle Eemus'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 Ke- mus puffed away at his pipe. This was the invariable result. Whenever the old man had occasion to repri- mand the little boy and the occasions were frequent he would relapse into a dignified but stubborn si- lence. Presently the youngster drew forth from his WHY MR. POSSUM HAS NO HAIR ON HIS TAIL. 131 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 Kemus," 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 dein 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 stummuck 'gun ter growl en holler at 'im so dat he des hatter rack 'roun' en hunt 132 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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' :*^r V pe'sh out, en Brer Rabbit, he lip up in de a'r, he did, en smack his ban's tergedder, en say dat he know right whar Brer Possum kin git a bait er Simmons. Den Brer Possum, h 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 Re- mius ? " the little boy asked. " Co'se, honey, kaze in dem days Brer B'ar wuz a WHY MR. POSSUM HAS NO HAIR ON HIS TAIL. 133 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 'terrain' 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 comin' 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 134 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 beholes, Brer B'ar hole 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 Eabbit hadnt' er happen up wid a go'd er water, Brer B'ar 'der got strankle. " Fum dat day ter dis," said Uncle Kemus, THE END OF MR. BEAR. 135 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 de- tected 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 136 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 uu 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 im- portant 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 thor- ough 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 mu- tual satisfaction of the parties most interested, and the THE END OF MR. BEAR. 137 old man continued his remarks, but this time not at random : " Wen I see deze yer swell-head folks like dat 'oman w'at come en tell yo' ma 'bout you chunkin' at her ehil- luns, 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 f urn 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 in- terrupted. 21 138 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " Miss Brune en Miss Brindle ? Miss Brune wuz Brer B'ar's ole 'oman, en Miss Brindle wuz bis gal Dat w'at dey call um in dem days. So den Brer Rabbit, be ax bim howdy, he did, en Brer B'ar, he 'spon' XX - 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 Babbit. 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. " ' Wiles 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 bot- THE END OF MR. BEAR. torn, en stay holler plum der de top, en de honey's des natally 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 b'leeve 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 Rab- bit, he 'low dat he kin see de hon- ey-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 Rab- bit, he up'n say, sezee : " ' You do de clim-'in', Brer B'ar, en I'll do de rushin' 'roun' ; you clime up ter de hole, en I'll take dis yer 140 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 Rab- bit, 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 'f o' 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, grind- ing 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. MR. FOX GETS INTO SERIOUS BUSINESS. 141 " 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 Eemus," 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 montn't. He mout 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 Watyou- maycollum's name, she ain't dar. Now den, less 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. 142 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. Man's greens en truck dat Mr. Man, he tuck'n sot a trap for Brer Eabbit, en Brer Kabbit lie so greedy dat lie tuck'n walk right spang in it, 'f o' 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 Kabbit dan he smack his han's tergedder en holler out : " ' Youer nice feller, you is ! Yer you bin gobblin' up my green truck, en now you tryin' ter tote off my trap. Youer 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 Kabbit, 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 fine Brer Rabbit in, but Brer Rabbit he make like he fit ter kill hisse'f laifin', 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 MR. FOX GETS INTO SERIOUS BUSINESS. 143 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 dern 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. Wat kinder w'atzyname is you, ennyhow ? ' sezee. " Brer Fox, he stay still, en Mr. Man, he talk on : 144 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " * 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 Kemus supple- mented 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 Babbit, 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, 'kaze 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 MR. FOX GETS INTO SERIOUS BUSINESS. 145 stove up. Look like sunip'n bin onkoamin' yo' ha'rs,' " Brer Fox ain't sayin' nothin', but Brer Babbit, 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 lie 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." 2-2 146 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. XXX. HOW MR. RABBIT SUCCEEDED IN RAISING A DUST. " IN dem times," said Uncle Kemus, gazing admir- ingly 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-fixins 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 HOW MR. RABBIT SUCCEEDED IN RAISING A DUST. 147 likewise dey don't wanter have urn 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 un 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. Bime- by, 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,' wid dat he put out for Brer Coon house en borrer his slip pers. Wen Sat'day evenin' come, dey wuz all dere. Miss Meadows en de gals, dey wuz dere ; en Brer Coon, en Brex Fox, en Brer Possum, en Brer Tarrypin, dey wuz dere." Where was the Rabbit ? " the little boy asked. Fouk'n put yo' 'pennunce in ole Brer Rabbit," 148 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. the old man replied, with a chuckle. " He wuz dere, but he shuffle up kinder late, kaze w'en Miss Meadows en de ballunce un um done gone down ter de place, Brer Eabbit, he crope 'roun' ter de ash-hopper, en fill Brer Coon 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 Kabbit got on slippers. Brer Fox, he so smart, he holler out, he did, en say he lay Brer Kabbit got de groun'-eatch, but Brer Kab- bit, 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 Kabbit 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 congergashun. But, never mine dat, old Brer Kabbit, 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 ehove Brer Kabbit 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 wer de one w'at gwineter take de pick er de gals. Ole Brer Fox, he grab de sludge-hammer, he did, HOW MR. RABBIT SUCCEEDED IN RAISING A DUST. 149 en he come down on de rock Uim ! No dus' ain't come. Den he draw back en down he come ag'in Ulam ! No dus' ain't come. Den he spit in his han's, en give 'er a big swing en down she come Jcer- Uap! En yit no dus' ain't flew'd. Den Brer Possum he make triul, en Brer Coon, en all de ballunce un um 'cep' Brer Tar- rypin, 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, 150 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. dat Brer Fox, he tuck'n had a sneezin' spell, en Miss Meadows en de gals dey up'n koff. Th'ee times Brer Eabbit jump up en crack his heels tergedder en come down wid de sludge-hammer ker-Ham ! en eve'y time he jump up, he holler out : " ' Stan' fudder, ladies ! Yer come de dus' ! ' en sho miff, de dus' come. " Leas' ways," continued Uncle Remus, "Brer Rab- bit 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 off'n my mine. Ef I don't dis- remember," he continued, " hit wuz Miss Molly Cotton- tail, 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. A PLANTATION WITCH. 151 " What's the matter, Uncle Kemus ? " the youngster asked. " Nujff 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 Re- mus'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 'roun' '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 152 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. wuz wrong wid de boss, and sho' nuff dar wuz his mane full er witch-stirrups." " FuU of what, Uncle Kemus ? " " 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. Wat else dey bindoin'?" " Did you ever see a witch, Uncle Eemus ? " " Dat ain't needer yer ner dar. Wen 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 Eemus, what are witches like ? " " Dey comes diffnnt," 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 urn'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 A PLANTATION WITCH. 153 come in de 'pearunce un a cow en all kinder cree- turs. 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, dars yo' witch fresh fum de Ole Boy. En, fudder- mo', 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 unc- tion. " Down dar in Putmon County yo' link Jeems, he make like he gwineter ketch wunner dem dar grave- yard rabbits. Sho nuff, out he goes, en de dogs ain't 23 154 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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-bairl 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 'speck tin' un him home, en he call off de dogs en put out. But dem wuz ha'nts. Witches is deze yer kinder fokes wat 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 Kemus, " 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. 'Yer come a great big black wolf." A PLANTATION WITCH. 155 " Tooby sho, honey. You see yo' pa pull his shut off ? Well, dat dez '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 an 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, en turn it wrongsudout'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' foun', 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'u'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 yaller-jackets. By nex' mawnin' he got so he could 156 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. 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 1 don't wanter stay here no longer." xxxn. " JACKY-MY-LANTERN." * UPON his next visit to Uncle Remus, the little boy was exceedingly anxious to know more about witches, * This story is popular on the coast and among the rice-planta- tions, and, since the publication of some of the animal-myths in the " JACKY-MY-LANTERN." 157 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. " Wiles 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 lightniu'-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 un '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 black- newspapers, I have received a version of it from a planter in south- west Georgia ; but it seems to me to be an intruder among the genuine myth-stories of the negroes. It is a trifle too elaborate. Nevertheless, it is told upon the plantations with great gusto, and there are several versions in circulation. 158 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. smif bin spreein' 'roun' en cussin' might'ly, 'he hear a sorter rustlin' fuss at de do', en. in walk de Bad Man." " Who, Uncle Kemus ? " 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 say he make a trade wid 'im. At de een' er one year de sperit er de blacksmif wuz to be his'n en endurin' er dat time de blacksmif mus' put in his hottes' licks in de intruss er de Bad Man, en den he put a spell on de cheer de blacksmif was settin' in, en on his sludge-hammer. De man w'at sot in de cheer couldn't git up less'n de black- smif let 'im, en de man w'at pick up de sludge 'ud hatter keep on knockin' wid it twel de blacksmif say quit ; en den he gun 'im money plenty, en off he put. " De blacksmif, he sail in fer ter have his fun, en he have so much dat he done clean forgot 'bout his con- track, but bimeby/one day he look down de road, en dar he see de Bad Man comin', en den he know'd de year wuz out. Wen de Bad Man got in de do', de blacksmif wuz poundin' 'way at a hoss-shoe, but he wa'n't so bizzy dat he didn't ax 'im in. De Bad Man sorter do like he ain't got no time fer ter tarry, but de 1 JACKY-MY-LANTERN.' blacksmif say lie got some little jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en den he ax de Bad Man fer ter set down a minnit ; en de Bad Man, he tuck'n sot down, en he sot in dat cheer w'at he done conju'd en, co'se, dar he wuz. Den de black- smif, he 'gun ter poke fun at de Bad Man, en he ax him don't he want a dram, en won't he hitch his cheer up little nigher de fier, en de Bad Man, he beg en he beg, but 'twan't doin' no good, kase de blacksmif 'low dat he gwineter keep 'im dar twel he promus dat he let 'im off one year mo', en, sho nuff, de Bad Man promus dat ef de blacksmif let 'im up he give 'im 160 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. a n'er showin'. So den de blacksmif gun de wud, en de Bad Man sa'nter off down de big road, settin' traps en layin' his progance fer ter ketch mo' sinners. " De nex' year hit pass same like t'er one. At de 'p'inted time yer come de Ole Boy atter de blacksmif, but still de blacksmif had some jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en he ax de Bad Man fer .ter take holt er de sludge en he'p 'im out ; en de Bad Man, he 'low dat r'er'n be disperlite, he don't keer ef he do hit 'er a biff er two ; en wid dat he grab up de sludge, en dar he wuz 'gin, kase he done conju'd de sludge so dat who- somedever tuck 'er up can't put 'er down less'n de blacksmif say de wud. Dey perlaver'd dar, dey did, twel bimeby de Bad Man he up'n let 'im off n'er year. " Well, den, dat year pass same ez t'er one. Mont' in en mont' out dat man wuz rollin' in dram, en bimeby yer come de Bad Man. De blacksmif cry en he holler, en he rip 'roun' en t'ar his ha'r, but hit des like he didn't, kase de Bad Man grab 'im up en cram 'im in a bag en tote 'im off. Wiles dey wuz gwine 'long dey come up wid a passel er fokes w'at wuz havin' wunner deze yer fote er July bobby cues, en de Ole Boy, he 'low dat maybe he kin git some mo' game, en w'at do he do but jine in wid um. He jines in en he talk politics same like t'er fokes, twel bimeby din- nertime come 'roun', en dey ax 'im up, w'ich 'greed wid his stummuck, en he pozzit his bag underneed de A PLANTATION WITCH. 153 come in de 'pearunce un a cow en all kinder cree- turs. I ain't bin useter no cunjun myse'f, but I bin livin' long nuf fer ter know w'en you meets up wid a big black cat in de middle er de road, wid yaller eyeballs, dars yo' witch fresh fum de Ole Boy. En, fudder- rno', 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 unc- tion. " Down dar in Putmon County yo' Unk Jeems, he make like he gwineter ketch wunner dem dar grave- yard rabbits. Sho nuff, out he goes, en de dogs ain't 23 154 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. no mo'n got ter de place fo' up jump de old rabbit right 'mong um, en atter rumrin' 'roun' a time or two, she skip right up ter Mars Jeems, en Mars Jeems, he des put de gun-bairl 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'rna 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 wat 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. 'Yer come a great big black wolf.' A PLANTATION WITCH. 155 " Tooby sho, honey. You see yo' pa pull his shut off ? Well, dat dez '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 an 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, en turn it wrongsudout'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 yaller-jackets. By nex' mawnin' he got so he could 156 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. 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." " JA CKY-MY-LANTERN." * UPON his next visit to Uncle Remus, the little boy was exceedingly anxious to know more about witches, * This story is popular on the coast and among the rice-planta- tions, and, since the publication of some of the animal-myths in the "JACKY-MY-LANTERN." 157 but the old man prudently refrained from exciting the youngster's imagination any further in that direction. Uncle Kemus had a board across his lap, and, armed with a mallet and a shoe-knife, was engaged in making shoe-pegs. "Wiles 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 lightniu'-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 un '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 black- newspapers, I have received a version of it from a planter in south- west Georgia ; but it seems to me to be an intruder among the genuine myth-stories of the negroes. It is a trifle too elaborate. Nevertheless, it is told upon the plantations with great gusto, and there are several versions in circulation. 158 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. smif bin spreein' 'roun' en cussin' might'ly, he hear a sorter rustlin' fuss at de do', en in walk de Bad Man." " Who, Uncle Eemus ? " 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 5 '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 say he make a trade wid 'im. At de een' er one year de sperit er de blacksmif wuz to be his'n en endurin' er dat time de blacks/nif mus' put in his hottes' licks in de intruss er de Bad Man, en den he put a spell on de cheer de blacksmif was settin' in, en on his sludge-hammer. De man w'at sot in de cheer couldn't git up less'n de black- smif let 'im, en de man w'at pick up de sludge 'ud hatter keep on knockin' wid it twel de blacksmif say quit ; en den he gun 'im money plenty, en off he put. " De blacksmif, he sail in fer ter have his fun, en he have so much dat he done clean forgot 'bout his con- track, but bimeby, one day he look down de road, en dar he see de Bad Man comin', en deri he know'd de year wuz out. Wen de Bad Man got in de do'-, de blacksmif wuz poundin' 'way at a hoss-shoe, but he wa'n't so bizzy dat he didn't ax 'im in. De Bad Man sorter do like he ain't got no time fer ter tarry, but de ' JACKY^MY-LANTERN.' 159 blacksmif say he got some little jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en den he ax de Bad Man fer ter set down a minnit; en de Bad Man, he tuck'n sot down, en he sot in dat cheer w'at he done conju'd en, co'se, dar he wnz. Den de black- smif, he 'gun ter poke fun at de Bad Man, en he ax him don't he want a dram, en won't he hitch his cheer up little nigher de fier, en de Bad Man, he beg en he beg, but 'twan't doin' no good, kase de blacksmif 'low dat he gwineter keep 'im dar twel he promus dat he let 'im off one year mo', en, sho nuff, de Bad Man promus dat ef de blacksmif let 'im up he give 'im 160 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. a n'er showin'. So den de blacksmif gun de wud, en -de Bad Man sa'nter off down de big road, settin' traps en layin' his progance fer ter ketch mo' sinners. " De nex' year hit pass same like t'er one. At de 'p'inted time yer come de Ole Boy atter de blacksmif, but still de blacksmif had some jobs dat he bleedzd ter iinish up, en he ax de Bad Man fer ter take holt er de sludge en he'p 'im out ; en de Bad Man, he 'low dat r'er'n be disperlite, he don't keer ef he do hit 'er a biff er two ; en wid dat he grab up de sludge, en dar he wuz 'gin, kase he done conju'd de sludge so dat who- somedever tuck 'er up can't put 'er down less'n de blacksmif say de wud. Dey perlaver'd dar, dey did, twel bimeby de Bad Man he up'n let 'im off n'er year. " Well, den, dat year pass same ez t'er one. Mont' in en mont' out dat man wuz rollin' in dram, en bimeby yer come de Bad Man. De blacksmif cry en he holler, en he rip 'roun' en t'ar his ha'r, but hit des like he didn't, kase de Bad Man grab 'im up en cram 'im in a bag en tote 'im off. Wiles dey wuz gwine 'long dey come up wid a passel er fokes w'at wuz havin' wunner deze yer fote er July bobbycues, en de Ole Boy, he 'low dat maybe he kin git some mo' game, en w'at do he do but jine in wid um. He jines in en he talk politics same like t'er fokes, twel bimeby din- nertime come 'roun', en dey ax 'im up, w'ich 'greed wid his stummuck, en he pozzit his bag underneed de A PLANTATION WITCH. 153 come in de 'pearunce un a cow en all kinder cree- turs. 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, dars yo' witch fresh fum de Ole Boy. En, fudder- mo', 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 Kemus, with unc- tion. " Down dar in Putmon County yo' Unk Jeems, he make like he gwineter ketch wunner dem dar grave- yard rabbits. Sho nuff, out he goes, en de dogs ain't 23 154 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. 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-bairl 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 'speck tin' un him home, en he call off de dogs en put out. But dem wuz ha'nts. Witches is deze yer kinder fokes wat 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. "Yer come a great big black wolf." A PLANTATION WITCH. 155 " Tooby sho, honey. You see yo' pa pull his shut off ? Well, dat dez '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' miff dat night, des ez de chickens wuz crowin' fer twelve, up jump de brer an 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, en turn it wrongsudout'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'u'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 yaller-jackets. By nex' mawnin' he got so. he could 156 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. 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. " JA CKY-MY-LANTERN." * UPON his next visit to Uncle Remus, the little boy was exceedingly anxious to know more about witches, * This story is popular on the coast and among the rice-planta- tions, and, since the publication of some of the animal-myths in the "JACKY-MY-LANTERN." 157 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. " Wiles 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 tfer lead me inter dat quogmire down in de swamp, en I steer'd cle'r un '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 black- newspapers, I have received a version of it from a planter in south- west Georgia ; but it seems to me to be an intruder among the genuine myth-stories of the negroes. It is a trifle too elaborate. Nevertheless, it is told upon the plantations with great gusto, and there are several versions in circulation. 158 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. smif bin spreein' 'roun' en cussin' might'lj, he hear a sorter rustlin' fuss at de do', en in walk de Bad Man." " Who, Uncle Kemus ? " 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 say he make a trade wid 'im. At de een' er one year de sperit er de blacksmif wuz to be his'n en endurin' er dat time de blacksmif mus' put in his hottes' licks in de intruss er de Bad Man, en den he put a spell on de cheer de blacksmif was settin' in, en on his sludge-hammer. De man w'at sot in de cheer couldn't git up less'n de black- smif let 'im, en de man w'at pick up de sludge 'ud hatter keep on knockin' wid it twel de blacksmif say quit ; en den he gun 'im money plenty, en off he put. " De blacksmif, he sail in fer ter have his fun, en he have so much dat he done clean forgot 'bout his con- track, but bimeby, one day he look down de road, en dar he see de Bad Man comin', en den he know'd de year wuz out. Wen de Bad Man got in de do', de blacksmif wuz poundin' 'way at a hoss-shoe, but he wa'n't so bizzy dat he didn't ax 'im in. De Bad Man sorter do like he ain't got no time fer ter tarry, but de " JACKY-MY-LANTERN." 159 blacksmif say he got some little jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en den he ax de Bad Man fer ter set down a minnit; en de Bad Man, he tuck'n sot down, en he sot in dat cheer w'at he j done conju'd en, co'se, dar he wuz. Den de black- smif, he 'gun ter poke fun at de - Bad Man, en he ax him don't he want a dram, en won't he hitch his cheer up little nigher de fier, en de Bad Man, he beg en he beg, but 'twan't doin' no good, kase de blacksmif 'low dat he gwineter keep 'im dar twel he promus dat he let 'im off one year mo', en, sho nuff, de Bad Man promus dat ef de blacksmif let 'im up he give 'im 160 LEGENDS OP THE OLD PLANTATION. a n'er showin'. So den de blacksmif gun de wud, en de Bad Man sa'nter off down de big road, settin' traps en layin' his progance fer ter ketch mo' sinners. " De nex' year hit pass same like t'er one. At de 'p'inted time yer come de Ole Boy atter de blacksmif, but still de blacksmif had some jobs dat he bleedzd ter finish up, en he ax de Bad Man fer ter take holt er de sludge en he'p 'im out ; en de Bad Man, he 'low dat r'er'n be disperlite, he don't keer ef he do hit 'er a biff er two ; en wid dat he grab up de sludge, en dar he wuz 'gin, kase he done conju'd de sludge so dat who- somedever tuck 'er up can't put 'er down less'n de blacksmif say de wud. Dey perlaver'd dar, dey did, twel bimeby de Bad Man he up'n let 'im off n'er year. " Well, den, dat year pass same ez t'er one. Mont' in en mont' out dat man wuz rollin' in dram, en bimeby yer come de Bad Man. De blacksmif cry en he holler, en he rip 'roun' en t'ar his ha'r, but hit des like he didn't, kase de Bad Man grab 'im up en cram 'im in a bag en tote 'im off. Wiles dey wuz gwine 'long dey come up wid a passel er fokes w'at wuz havin' wunner deze yer fote er July bobbycues, en de Ole Boy, he 'low dat maybe he kin git some mo' game, en w'at do he do but jine in wid um. He jines in en he talk politics same like t'er fokes, twel bimeby din- nertime come 'roun', en dey ax 'im up, w'ich 'greed wid his stummuck, en he pozzit his bag underneed de "JACKY-MY-LANTERN." 16} table 'longside de udder bags w'at de hongry fokes'd brung. " No sooner did de blacksmif git back on de groun' dan he 'gun ter wuk his way outer de bag. He crope out, he did, en den he tuck'n change de bag. He tuck'n tuck a n'er bag en lay it down whar dish yer bag wuz, en den he crope outer de crowd en lay low in de underbresh. " Las', w'en de time come f er ter go, de Ole Boy up wid his bag en slung her on his shoulder, en off he put fer de Bad Place. "W'en he got dar he tuck'n drap de bag off'n his back en call up de imps, en dey des come a squallin' en a caperin', w'ich I speck dey mus' a bin hongry. Leas'ways dey des swawm'd 'roun', hollerin out: " ' Daddy, w'at you brung daddy, w'at you brung ? ' " So den dey open de bag, en lo en beholes, out jump a big bull-dog, en de way he shuck dem little imps wuz a caution, en he kep' on gnyawin' un um twel de Ole Boy open de gate en tu'n 'im out." " And what became of the blacksmith ? " the little boy asked, as Uncle Remus paused to suuff the candle with his fingers. " I'm drivin' on 'roun', honey. Atter 'long time, de blacksmif he tuck'n die, en w'en he go ter de Good Place de man at de gate dunner who he is, en he can" squeeze in. Den he go down ter de Bad Place, er> knock. De Ole Boy, he look out, he did, en he 24 162 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. know'd de blacksmif de minnit he laid eyes on 'im ; but he shake his head en say, sezee : " ' You'll hatter skuze me, Brer Blacksmif, kase I dun had 'speunce 'longer you. You'll hatter go som- e'rs else ef you wanter raise enny . racket,' sezee, en wid dat he shet de do'. " En dey do say," continued Uncle Remus, with unc- tion, " dat sence dat day de blacksmif bin sorter huv'rin' 'roun' 'twix' de heavens en de ye'th, en dark nights he shine out so fokes call 'im Jacky-my-lan- tun. Dat's w'at dey tells me. Hit may be wrong er't maybe right, 2^"" but dat's w'at I years." WHY THE NEGRO IS BLACK. 163 XXXIII. WHY THE NEGRO IS BLACK. ONE night, while the little boy was watching Uncle Remus twisting and waxing some shoe-thread, he made what appeared to him to be a very curious discovery. He discovered that the palms of the old man's hands were as white as his own, and the fact was such a source of wonder that he at last made it the subject of remark. The response of Uncle Remus led to the earnest recital of a piece of unwritten history that must prove inter- esting to ethnologists. " Tooby sho de pa'm er my han's w'ite, honey," he quietly remarked, " en, w'en it come ter dat, dey wuz a time w'en all de w'ite folks 'uz black blacker dan me, kaze I done bin yer so long dat I bin sorter bleach out." The little boy laughed. He thought Uncle Remus was making him the victim of one of his jokes ; but the youngster was never more mistaken. The old man was serious. Nevertheless, he failed to rebuke the ill-timed mirth of the child, appearing to be alto- gether engrossed in his work. After a while he re- sumed : " Yasser. Pokes dunner w'at bin yit, let 'lone w'at gwineter be. Niggers is niggers now, but de time wuz w'en we 'uz all niggers tergedder." 164: LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " When was that, Uncle Kemus ? " " Way back yander. In dem times we 'uz all un us black ; we 'uz all niggers tergedder, en 'cordin' ter all de 'counts w'at I years fokes 'uz gittin 'long 'bout ez well in dem days ez dey is now. But atter Vile de news come dat dere wuz a pon' er water some'rs in de naberhood, w'ich ef dey'd git inter dey'd be wash off nice en w'ite, en den one un um, he fine de place en make er splunge inter de pon', en come out w'ite ez a town gal. En den, bless grashus ! w'en de fokes seed it, dey make a break fer de pon', en dem w'at wuz de soopless, dey got in f us' en dey come out w'ite ; en dem w'at wuz de nex' soopless, dey got in nex', en dey come out merlatters ; en dey wuz sech a crowd un um dat dey mighty nigh use de water up, w'ich w'en dem yuthers come 'long, de merest dey could do wuz ter paddle about wid der foots en dabble in it wid der han's. Dem wuz de niggers, en down ter dis day dey ain't no w'ite 'bout a nigger 'ceppin de pa'ms er der han's en de soles er der foot." The little boy seemed to be very much interested in this new account of the origin of races, and he made some further inquiries, which elicited from Uncle Re- mus the following additional particulars : " De Injun en de Chinee got ter be 'counted 'long er de merlatter. I ain't seed no Chinee dat I knows un, but dey tells me dey er sorter 'twix' a brown en a brindle. Dey er all merlatters." THE SAD FATE OF MR. FOX. 155 " But mamma says the Chinese have straight hair," the little boy suggested. " Co'se, honey," the old man unhesitatingly re- sponded, " dem w'at git ter de pon' time miff fer ter git der head in de water, de water hit onkink der ha'r. Hit bleedzd ter be dat away." xxxrr. THE SAD FATE OF MR. FOX. " Now, den," said Uncle Eemus, with unusual gravity, as soon as the little boy, by taking his seat, announced that he was ready for the evening's enter- tainment to begin ; " now, den, dish yer tale w'at I'm agwine ter gin you is de las' row er stumps, sho. Dish yer's whar ole Brer Fox los' his breff, en he ain't fine it no mo' down ter dis day." " Did he kill himself, Uncle Kenms ? " the little boy asked, with a curious air of concern. " Hole on dar, honey ! " the old man exclaimed, with a great affectation of alarm ; " hole on dar ! Wait ! Gimme room ! I don't wanter tell you no story, en ef you keep shovin' me forrerd, I mout git some er de facks mix up 'mong deyse'f. You gotter gimme room en you gotter gimme time." The little boy had no other premature ques- 166 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. tions to ask, and, after a pause, Uncle Remus re- sumed : " Well, den, one day Brer Rabbit go ter Brer Fox house, he did, en he put up mighty po' mouf . He say his ole 'oman sick, en his chilluns cole, en de fier done gone out. Brer Fox, he feel bad 'bout dis, en he tuck'n s'ply Brer Rabbit widder chunk er fier. Brer Rabbit see Brer Fox cookin' some nice beef, en his mouf gun ter water, but he take de fier, he did, en he put out to'rds home ; but present'y yer he come back, en he say de fier done gone out. Brer Fox 'low dat he want er invite to dinner, but he don't say nuthin', en bimeby Brer Rabbit he up'n say, sezee : " ' Brer Fox, whar you git so much nice beef ? ' sezee, en den Brer Fox he up'n 'spon', sezee : " ' You come ter my house ter-morrer ef yo' fokes ain't too sick, en I kin show you whar you kin git plenty beef mo' nicer dan dish yer,' sezee : " Well, sho nuff, de nex' day fotch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox say, sezee : " ' Der's a man down yander by Miss Meadows's w'at got heap er fine cattle, en he gotter cow name Bookay,' sezee, 'en you des go en say Bookay, en she'll open her mouf, en you kin jump in en git des as much meat ez you kin tote,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. " Well, I'll go 'long,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, < en you kin jump fus' en den I'll come follerin' atter,' sezee. " Wid dat dey put out, en dey went promernadin' THE SAD FATE OF MR. FOX. 167 'roun' 'mong de cattle, dey did, twel bimeby dey struck up wid de one dey wuz atter. Brer Fox, he up, he did, en holler Boo- kay, en de cow flung 'er mouf wide open. Sho nuff, in dey jump, en w'en dey got dar, Brer Fox, he say, sezee : ' You kin cut mos' enny- wheres, Brer Babbit, but don't cut 'roun' de haslett/ sezee. " Den Brer Eabbit, he holler back, he did : I'm a gitten me out a roas'n-piece,' sezee. " ' Eoas'n, er bakin', er fryin',' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ' don't git too nigh de haslett,' sezee. " Dey cut en dey kyarved, en dey kyarved en dey cut, en w'iles dey wuz cuttin' en kyarvin', en slashin' 'way, Brer Eabbit, he tuck'n hacked inter de haslett, en wid dat down fell de cow dead. 168 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' Now, den,' sez Brer Fox, ' we er gone, sho,' " ' Wat we gwine do ? ' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "Til git in de maul,' sez Brer Fox, 'en you'll jump in de gall,' sezee. " Nex' rnawnin' yer cum de man w'at de cow b'long ter, an he ax who kill Bookay. Nobody don't say nuthin'. Den de man say he'll cut 'er open en see, en den he whirl in, en twan't no time 'fo' he had 'er intruls spread out. Brer Rabbit, he crope out'n de gall, en say, sezee : "'Mister Man! Oh, Mister Man! I'll tell you who kill yo' cow. You look in de maul, en dar you'll fine 'im,' sezee. " Wid dat de man tuck a stick and lam down on de maul so hard dat he kill Brer Fox stone-dead. Wen Brer Rabbit see Brer Fox wuz laid out fer good, he make like he mighty sorry, en he up'n ax de man fer Brer Fox head. Man say he ain't keerin', en den Brer Rabbit tuck'n brung it ter Brer Fox house. Dar he see ole Miss Fox, en he tell 'er dat he done fotch her some nice beef w'at 'er ole man sont 'er, but she ain't gotter look at it twel she go ter eat it. " Brer Fox son wuz name Tobe, en Brer Rabbit tell Tobe fer ter keep still w'iles his mammy cook de nice beef w'at his daddy sont 'im. Tobe he wuz mighty hongry, en he look in de pot he did w'iles de cookin' wuz gwine on, en dar he see his daddy head, en wid THE SAD FATE OF MR. FOX. 169 dat he sot up a howl en tole his mammy. Miss Fox, she git mighty mad w'en she fine she cookin' her ole man head, en she call up de dogs, she did, en sickt em on Brer Rabbit ; en ole Miss Fox en Tobe en de dogs, dey push Brer Rabbit so close dat he hatter take a holler tree. Miss Fox, she tell Tobe fer ter stay dar en mine Brer Rabbit, w'ile she goes en git de ax, en w'en she gone, Brer Rabbit, he tole Tobe ef he go ter de branch en git 'im a drink er water dat he'll gin 'irn a dollar. Tobe, he put out, he did, en bring some water in his hat, but by de time he got back Brer Rabbit done out en gone. Ole Miss Fox, she cut and cut twel down come de tree, but no Brer Rabbit dar. Den she lay de blame on Tobe, en she say she gwineter lash 'im, en Tobe, he put out en run, de ole 'oman atter 'im. Bimeby, he come up wid Brer Rabbit, en sot down fer to tell 'im how 'twuz, en w'iles dey wuz a settin' dar, yer come ole Miss Fox a slippin' up en grab um bofe. Den she tell um w'at she gwine do. Brer Rabbit she gwineter kill, en Tobe she gwineter lam ef its de las' ack. Den Brer Rabbit sez, sezee : " ' Ef you please, ma'am, Miss Fox, lay me on de grinestone en groun' off my nose so I can't smell no mo' w'en I'm dead.' " Miss Fox, she tuck dis ter be a good idee, en she fotch bcfe un um ter de grinestone, en set um up on it so dat she co'uld groun' off Brer Rabbit nose. Den Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee : 25 170 LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION. " ' Ef you please, ma'am, Miss Fox, Tobe he kin turn de handle w'iles you goes atter some water fer ter wet de grinestone,' sezee. " Co'se, soon'z Brer Rabbit see Miss Fox go atter de water, he jump down en put out, en dis time he git clean away." " And was that the last of the Rabbit, too, Uncle Remus?" the little boy asked, with something like a sigh. " Don't push me too close, honey," responded the old man ; " don't shove me up in no cornder. I don't wanter tell you no stories. Some say dat Brer Rab- THE SAD FATE OF ME. FOX. 171 bit's ole 'oraan died f urn eatin' some pizen-weed, n dat Brer Kabbit married ole Miss Fox, en some say not. Some tells one tale en some tells nudder ; some say dat fum dat time forrer'd de Rabbits en de Foxes make frien's en stay so ; some say dey kep on quollin'. Hit look like it mixt. Let dem tell you w'at knows. Dat w'at I years you gits it straight like I yeard it." There was a long pause, which was finally broken by the old man : " Hit's 'gin de rules fer you ter be noddin' yer, honey. Bimeby you'll drap off en I'll hatter tote you up ter de big 'ouse. I hear dat baby cryin', en bimeby Miss Sally'll fly up en be a holler'n atter you." " Oh, I wasn't asleep," the little boy replied. " I was just thinking." "Well, dat's diffunt," said the old man. " Ef you'll clime up on my back," he continued, speaking softly, " I speck I ain't too ole fer ter be yo' hoss fum yer ter de house. Many en many's de time dat I toted yo' Unk Jeems dat away, en Mars Jeems wuz heavier sot dan w'at you is." PLANTATION PROVERBS. BIG 'possum clime little tree. Dem w'at eats kin say grace. Ole man Know- All died las' year. Better de gravy dan no grease 'tall. Dram ain't good twel you git it. Lazy f okes' stummucks don't git tired. Rheumatiz don't he'p at de log-rollin' (173) 174: PLANTATION PROVERBS. Mole don't see w'at his naber doin'. Save de pacin' mar' fer Sunday. Don't rain eve'y time de pig squeal. Crow en corn can't grow in de same fieP. Tattlin' 'oman can't make de bread rise. Rails split 'fo' bre'kfus' '11 season de dinner. Dem w'at knows too much sleeps under de ash-hopper. Ef you wanter see yo' own sins, clean up a new groun'. Hog d.unner w'ich part un 'im'll season de turnip salad. Hit's a blessin' de w'ite sow don't shake de plum-tree. Winter grape sour, whedder you kin reach 'im or not. Mighty po' bee dat don't make mo' honey dan he want Kwishins on mule's foots done gone out er fashun. Pigs dunno w'at a pen's fer. Possum's tail good as a paw. Dogs don't bite at de front gate. Colt in de barley-patch kick high. Jay-bird don't rob his own nes'. Pullet can't roost too high for de owl. Meat fried 'f o' day won't las' twel night. Stump water won't kyo de gripes. De howlin' dog know w'at he sees. Bline hoss don't fall w'en he follers de bit. Hongry nigger won't w'ar his maul out. Don't fling away de empty wallet. Black-snake know de way ter de hiri nes'. Looks won't do ter split rails wid. Settin' hens don't hanker arter fresh aigs. PLANTATION PROVERBS. 175 Tater-vine growin' w'ile you sleep. Hit take two birds fer to make a nes'. Ef you bleedzd ter eat dirt, eat clean dirt. Tarrypin walk fast 'nuff fer to go visitin'. Empty smoke-house makes de pullet holler. Wen coon take water he fixin' fer ter fight. Corn makes mo' at de mill dan it does in de crib. Good luck say : " Op'n yo' mouf en shet yo' Nigger dat gets hurt wukkin oughter show de skyars, Fiddlin' nigger say hit's long ways ter de dance. Rooster makes mo' racket dan de hin w'at lay de aig. Meller mush-million hollers at you fum over de fence. Nigger wid a pocket-han'kcher better be looked atter. Rain-crow don't sing no chune, but youk'n 'pen' on 'im. One-eyed mule can't be handled on de bline side. Moon may shine, but a lightered knot's mighty handy. Licker talks mighty loud w'en it git loose fum de jug- De proudness un a man don't count w'en his head's cold. Hongry rooster don't cackle w'en he fine a wum. 1T6 PLANTATION PROVERBS. Some niggers mighty smart, but dey can't drive de pidgins ter roos'. You may know de way, but better keep yo' eyes on de seven stairs. All de buzzards in de settlement '11 come to de gray mule's funer'l. Youk'n hide de fier, but w'at you gwine do wid de smoke ? Ter-morrow may be de carridge-driver's day for ploughin'. Hit's a mighty deaf nigger dat don't year de dinner-ho'n. Hit takes a bee fer ter git de sweetness out'n de hoar-houn' blos- som. Ha'nts don't bodder longer hones' folks, but you better go 'roun' de grave-yard. <, De pig dat runs off wid de <>&, year er corn gits little mo' dan de cob. Sleepin' in de fence-corn- der don't fetch Chrismus in de kitchen. - x ' De spring-house may freeze, but de niggers '11 keep de shuck-pen warm. 'Twix' de bug en de bee-martin 'tain't hard ter tell w'ich gwineter git kotch. PLANTATION PROVERBS. 177 Don't 'spute wid de squinch-owl. Jam de shovel in de fier. You'd see mo' er de mink ef he know'd whar de yard dog sleeps. Troubles is seasonin'. 'Simmons ain't good twel dey 'er fros'-bit. Watch out w'en you'er gittin all you want. Fat- tenin' hogs, ain't in luck. HIS SONGS. REVIVAL HYMN. OH, whar shill we go w'en de great day comes, Wid de blowin' er de trumpits en de bangin' er de drums ? How many po' sinners'll be kotched out late En fine no latch ter de golden gate ? No use fer ter wait twel ter-morrer ! De sun musn't set on yo' sorrer, Sin's ez sharp ez a bamboo-brier Oh, Lord ! fetch de mo'ners up higher ! Wen de nashuns er de earf is a stan'in all aroun', Who's a gwineter be choosen fer ter w'ar de glory- crown ? Who's a gwine fer ter stan' stiff-kneed en bol'. En answer to der name at de callin' er de roll ? You better come now ef you comin' Ole Satun is loose en a bummin' De wheels er distruckshun is a hummin' Oh, come 'long, sinner, ef you comin' ! (181) 182 HIS SONGS. De song er salvashun is a mighty sweet song, En de Pairidise win' blow fur en blow strong, En Aberham's bosom, hit's saft en hit's wide, En right dar's de place whar de sinners oughter hide ! Oh, you nee'nter be a stoppin' en a lookin' ; Ef you fool wid ole Satun you'll git took in ; You'll hang on de aidge en get shook in, Ef you keep on a stoppin' en a lookin'. De time is right now, en dish yer's de place Let de sun er salvashun shine squar' in yo' face ; Fight de battles er de Lord, fight soon en fight late, En you'll allers fine a latch ter de golden gate. No use fer ter wait twel ter-morrer, De sun musn't set on yo' sorrer Sin's ez sharp ez a bamboo-brier, Ax de Lord fer ter fetch you up higher ! n. GAMP-MEETING SONG* OH, de worril is roun' en de worril is wide Lord ! 'member deze chillun in de mornin'- * In the days of slavery, the religious services held by the negroes who accompanied their owners to the camp-meetings were marvels of earnestness and devotion. CAMP-MEETING SONG. 183 Hit's a mighty long ways up de mountain side, En dey ain't no place fer dem sinners fer ter hide, En dey ain't no place whar sin kin abide, Wen de Lord shill come in de mornin' ! Look up en look aroun', Fling yo' burden on de groun', Hit's a gittin' mighty close on ter mornin' ! Smoove away sin's frown Retch up en git de crown, Wat de Lord will fetch in de mornin' ! De han' er ridem'shun, hit's hilt out ter you Lord ! 'member dem sinners in de mornin' ! Hit's a mighty pashent han', but de days is but few, Wen Satun, he'll come a demandin' un his due, En de stiff-neck sinners '11 be smotin' all fru Oh, you better git ready fer de mornin' ! Look up en set yo' face Todes de green hills er grace To' de sun rises up in de mornin' Oh, you better change yo' base, Hits yo' soul's las' race Fer de glory dat's a comin' in de mornin' ! De farmer gits ready w'en de lan's all plowed Fer ter sow dem seeds in de mornin' De sperrit may be puny en de flesh may be proud, But you better cut loose fum de scoffin' crowd, 184: HIS. SONGS. En jine dese Christuns w'at's a cryin' out loud Fer de Lord fer ter come in de mornin'! Shout loud en shout long, Let de ekkoes ans'er strong, "Wen de sun rises up in de mornin' ! Oh, you allers will be wrong Twel you choose ter belong Ter de Marster w'at's a comin' in de mornin' ! in. CORN-SHUCKING SONG. OH, de fus news you know de day'll be a breakin'- (Hey O! Hi O! Up'n down de Bango! *) An' de fier be a burnin' en' de ash-cake a bakin', (Hey O! Hi O! Up'n down de Bango!) An' de hen'll be a hollerin' en de boss '11 be a wakin'- (Hey O! Hi O! Up'n down de Bango!) Better git up, nigger, en give yo'se'f a shakin' (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann!) Oh, honey! w'en you see dem ripe stars a fallin'^ (Hey O! Hi O! Up'n down de Bango!) * So far as I know, " Bango " is a meaningless term, introduced on account of its sonorous ruggedness. The corn-shucking. CORN-SHUCKING SONG. 185 Oh, honey ! w'en you year de rain-crow a callin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Oh, honey ! w'en you year dat red calf a bawlin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Den de day time's comin', a creepin' en a crawlin' (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) Fer de los' ell en yard * is a huntin' fer de mornin', (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) En she'll ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) Oh, honey ! w'en you year dat tin horn a tootin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Oh, honey, w'en you year de squinch owl a hootin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Oh, honey ! w'en you year dem little pigs a rootin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Right den she's a comin' a skippin' en a scootin' (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) Oh, honey, w'en you year dat roan mule whicker (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Wen you see Mister Moon turnin' pale en gittin' sicker (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) * The sword and belt in the constellation of Orion. 27 186 HIS SONGS. Den hit's time f er ter handle dat corn a little quicker (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Ef you wanter git a smell er old Marster's jug er licker (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin ; (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) En she'll ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) You niggers 'cross dar ! you better stop your dancin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) No use fer ter come a flingin' un yo' " sha'n'ts" in (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) No use fer ter come a flingin' un yo' " can't's " in (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Kaze dey ain't no time fer yo' pattin' ner yo' prancin' ! (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) Mr. Rabbit see de Fox, en he sass um en jaws um (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango S) Mr. Fox ketch de Rabbit, en he scratch um en he claws um (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) En he tar off de hide, en he chaws um en he gnyaws um ' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Same like gal chawin' sweet gum en rozzum (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) CORN-SHUCKING SONG. 187 Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin' (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) En she'll ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in (Oh, go 'way, Sindy Ann !) Oh, work on, boys ! give deze shucks a mighty wringin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) 'Fo' de boss come aroun' a dangin' en a dingin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Git up en move aroun' ! set dem big han's ter swingin' (Hey O ! Hi O ! Up'n down de Bango !) Git up'n shout loud ! let de w'ite folks year you singin' t (Hi O, Miss Sindy Ann !) Fer de los' ell en yard is a huntin' fer de mornin' (Hi O ! git 'long ! go 'way !) En she'll ketch up widdus 'fo' we ever git dis corn in. (Oh, go 'way Sindy Aim !) 188 HIS SONGS. rv. THE PLOUGH-HANDS' SON&. (JASPER COUNTY 1860.) NIGGER mighty happy w'en he layin' by co'n Dat sun's a slantin' ; Nigger mighty happy w'en he year de dinner-ho'n Dat sun's a slantin' ; En he mo' happy still w'en de night draws on Dat sun's a slantin' ; Dat sun's a slantin' des ez sho's you bo'n ! En it's rise up, Primus ! fetch anudder yell : Dat ole dun cow's des a shakin' up 'er bell, En de frogs chunin' up 'fo' de jew done fell : Good-night, Mr. Killdee ! I wish you mighty well ! Mr. Killdee ! I wish you mighty well ! I wish you mighty well! De co'n '11 be ready 'g'inst dumplin day Dat sun's a slantin' ; But nigger gotter watch, en stick, en stay Dat sun's a slantin' ; Same ez de bee-martin watcfhin' un de jay Dat sun's a slantin' ; Dat sun's a slantin' en a slippin' away ! Den it's rise up, Primus ! en gin it t'um strong ; De cow's gwine home wid der ding-dang-dong CHRISTMAS PLAY-SONG. 189 Sling in anudder tetch er de ole-time song : Good-night, Mr. Whipperwill ! don't stay long ! Mr. Whipperwill ! don't stay long ! Dortt stay long ! v. CHRISTMAS PLAY-SONG. (MYEICK PLACE, PUTNAM COUNTY 1858.) Hi my rinktum ! Black gal sweet, Same like goodies w'at de w'ite folks eat ; Ho my Eiley ! don't you take'n tell 'er name, En den ef sumpin' happen you won't ketch de blame ; Hi my rinktum ! better take'n hide yo' plum ; Joree don't holler eve'y time he fine a wum. Den it's hi my rinktum ! Don't git no udder man ; En it's ho my Kiley ! Fetch out Miss Dilsey Ann I Ho my Kiley ! Yaller gal fine ; She may be yone but she oughter be mine I Hi my rinktum ! Lemme git by, En see w'at she mean by de cut er dat eye ! Ho my Riley ! better shet dat do' De w'ite folks '11 b'leeve we er t'arin up de flo'. 190 HIS SONGS. Den it's ho my Kilej ! Come a siftin' up ter me ! En it's hi my rinktum ! Dis de way ter twis' yo' knee ! Hi my rinktum ! Ain't de eas' gittin' red ? De squinch owl shiver like he wanter go ter bed ; Ho my Riley ! but de gals en de boys, Des now gittin' so dey kin sorter make a noise. Hi my rinktum ! let de yaller gal 'lone ; Niggers don't hanker arter sody in de pone. Den it's hi my rinktum ! Better try anudder plan ; An' it's ho my Riley ! Trot out Miss Dilsey Ann ! Ho my Riley ! In de happy Chrismus' time De niggers shake der cloze a huntin' fer a dime. Hi my rinktum ! En den dey shake der feet, En greaze derse'f wid de good ham meat. Ho my Riley ! dey eat en dey cram, En bimeby ole Miss '11 be a sendin' out de dram. Den it's ho my Riley ! You hear dat, Sam ! En it's hi my rinktum ! Be a sendin' out de dram ! PLANTATION PLAY-SONG. 191 PLANTATION PLAY-SONff. (PUTNAM COUNTY 1856.) HIT'S a gittin' mighty late, w'en de Guinny-hins squall, En you better dance now, ef you gwineter dance a tall, Fer by dis time ter-morrer night you can't hardly crawl, Kaze you'll hatter take de hoe ag'in en likewise de maul Don't you hear dat bay colt a kickin' in his stall ? Stop yo' humpin' up yo' sho'lders Dat'll never do ! Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo ! Hit takes a heap er scrougin' Fer ter git you thoo Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo ! Ef you niggers don't watch, you'll sing anudder chune, Fer de sun'll rise'n ketch you ef you don't be mighty soon ; En de stars is gittin' paler, en de ole gray coon Is a settin' in de grape-vine a watchin' fer de moon. 192 HIS SONGS. Wen a feller comes a knockin' Des holler Oh, shoo! Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo ! Oh, swing dat yaller gal ! Do, boys, do ! Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo ! Oh, tu'n me loose ! Lemme 'lone ! Go way, now ! Wat you speck I come a dancin' fer ef I dunno how ? Deze de ve'y kinder footses w'at kicks up a row ; Can't you jump inter de middle en make yo' gal a bow ? Look at dat merlatter man A follerin' up Sue ; Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo I De boys ain't a gwine Wen you cry loo hoo Hop light, ladies, Oh, Miss Loo ! TRANSCRIPTIONS. 193 VII. TRANSCRIPTIONS* 1. A PLANTATION CHANT. HIT'S eighteen hunder'd forty-en-fo', Christ done open dat He'v.'mly do' An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer; Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-five, * Christ done made dat dead man alive An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. You ax me ter run home, Little childun Run home, dat sun done roll An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-six, Christ is got us a place done fix An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer; Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-sev'm Christ done sot a table in Hev'm An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. * If these are adaptations from songs the negroes have caught from the whites, their origin is very remote. I have transcribed them literally, and I regard them as in the highest degree char- acteristic. 28 194 HIS SONGS. Ton ax me ter run home, Little childun Kun home, dat sun done roll An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-eight, Christ done make dat crooked way straight An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer ; Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-nine, Christ done tr'n dat water inter wine An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. You ax me ter run home, Little childun Run home, dat sun done roll An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-ten, Christ is de mo'ner's onliest fr'en' An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer ; Hit's eighteen hunder'd forty-en-'lev'm, Christ'll be at de do' w'en we all git ter Hev'm An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. You ax me ter run home, Little childun Run home, dat sun done roll An' I don't wanter stay yer no longer. TRANSCRIPTIONS. 195 2. A PLANTATION SERENADE. DE ole bee make de honey-comb, De young bee make de honey, De niggers make de cotton en co'n, En de w'ite folks gits de money. De raccoon he's a cu'us man, He never walk twel dark, En nuthin' never 'sturbs his mine, Twel he hear ole Bringer bark. De raccoon totes a bushy tail, De 'possum totes no ha'r, Mr. Rabbit, he come skippin' by, He ain't got none ter spar'. Monday mornin' break er day, W'ite folks got me gwine, But Sat'dy night, w'en de sun goes down, Dat yaller gal's in my mine. Fifteen poun' er meat a week, Wisky f er ter sell, Oh, how can a young man stay at home, Dem gals dey look so well ! 196 HIS SONGS. Met a 'possum in de road Brer ''Possum, whar you gwi/ne ? I thank my stars, 1 bless my life, I'm a huntirt fer de muscadine. vni. THE BIG BETHEL CHURCH. DE Big Bethel chu'ch! de Big Bethel chu'chl Done put ole Satun behine um ; Ef a sinner git loose f um ennj udder chu'ch, De Big Bethel chu'ch will fine um ! Hit's good ter be dere, en it's sweet ter be dere, Wid de sisterin' all aroun' you A shakin' dem shackles er mussy en' love "Wharwid de Lord is boun' you. Hit's sweet ter be dere en lissen ter de hymes, En hear dem mo'ners a shoutin' Dey done reach de place whar der ain't no room Fer enny mo' weepin' en doubtin'. Hit's good ter be dere w'en de sinners all jine Wid de brudderin in dere singin', En it look like Gaberl gwine ter rack up en blow En set dem heav'm bells ter ringin' ! THE BIG BETHEL CHURCH. 197 Oh, de Big Bethel chu'ch ! de Big Bethel chu'ch, Done put ole Satun behine um ; Ef a sinner git loose fuin enny udder chu'ch De Big Bethel chu'ch will fine um ! TIME GOES BY TURNS. DAK'S a pow'ful rassle 'twix de Good en de Bad, En de Bad's got de ail-under holt ; En w'en de wuss come, she come i'on-clad, En you hatter hole yo' bref fer de jolt. But des todes de las' Good gits de knee-lock, En dey draps ter de groun' ker flop ! Good had de inturn, en he stan' like a rock, En he bleedzd fer ter be on top. De dry wedder breaks wid a big thunder-clap, Fer dey ain't no drout' w'at kin las', But de seasons w'at whoops up de cotton crap, Likewise dey freshens up de grass. De rain fall so saf in de long dark night, Twel you hatter hole yo' han' fer a sign, But de drizzle w'at sets de tater-slips right IB de inakin' er de May-pop vine. 198 HIS SONGS. In de mellerest groun' de clay root'll ketch En hole ter de tongue er de plow, En a pine-pole gate at de gyardin-patch Never'll keep out de ole brindle cow. One en all on us knows who's a pullin' at de bits Like de lead-mule dat g'ides by de rein, En yit, somehow er nudder, de bestest un us gits Mighty sick er de tuggin' at de chain. Hump yo'se'f ter de load en fergit de distress, En dem w'at stan's by ter scoff, Fer de harder de pullin', de longer de res', En de bigger de feed in de trofi. A STORY OF THE WAR. A STORY OF THE WAR. WHEN Miss Theodosia Huntingdon, of Burlington, Vermont, concluded to come South in 1870, she was moved by three considerations. In the first place, her brother, John Huntingdon, had become a citizen of Georgia having astonished his acquaintances by mar- rying a young lady, the male members of whose family had achieved considerable distinction in the Confed- erate army ; in the second place, she was anxious to explore a region which she almost unconsciously pic- tured to herself as remote and semi-barbarous ; and, in the third place, her friends had persuaded her that to 202 A STORY OF THE WAR. some extent she was an invalid. It was in vain that she argued with herself as to the propriety of under- taking the journey alone and unprotected, and she finally put an end to inward and outward doubts by informing herself and her friends, including John Huntingdon, her brother, who was practicing law in Atlanta, that she had decided to visit the South. When, therefore, on the 12th of October, 1870 the date is duly recorded in one of Miss Theodosia's letters she alighted from the cars in Atlanta, in the midst of a great crowd, she fully expected to find her brother waiting to receive her. The bells of several locomotives were ringing, a number of trains were moving in and out, and the porters and baggage-men were screaming and bawling to such an extent that for several moments Miss Huntingdon was considerably confused ; so much so that she paused in the hope that her brother would suddenly appear and rescue her from the smoke, and dust, and din. At that moment some one touched her on the arm, and she heard a strong, half -confident, half -apologetic voice exclaim : " Ain't dish yer Miss Doshy ? " Turning, Miss Theodosia saw at her side a tall, gray-haired negro. Elaborating the incident afterward to her friends, she was pleased to say that the appear- ance of the old man was somewhat picturesque. He stood towering above her, his hat in one hand, a car- riage-whip in the other, and an expectant smile lighting A STORY OF THE WAR. 203 up his rugged face. She remembered a name her brother had often used in his letters, and, with a woman's tact, she held out her hand, and said : "Is this Uncle Remus?" " Law, Miss Doshy ! how you know de ole nigger ? I know'd you by de faver ; but how you know me ? " And then, without waiting for a reply : " Miss Sally, she sick in bed, en Mars John, he bleedzd ter go in de country, en dey tuck'n sont me. I know'd you de minnit I laid eyes on you. Time I seed you, I say ter myse'f, ( I lay dar's Miss Doshy,' en, sho miff, dar you wuz. You ain't gun up yo' checks, is you? Kaze I'll git de trunk sont up by de 'spress wag- gin." The next moment Uncle Kemus was elbowing his way unceremoniously through the crowd, and in a very short time, seated in the carriage driven by the old man, Miss Huntingdon was whirling through the streets of Atlanta in the direction of her brother's home. She took advantage of the opportunity to study the old negro's face closely, her natural curiosity con- siderably sharpened by a knowledge of the fact that Uncle Remus had played an important part in her brother's history. The result of her observation must have been satisfactory, for presently she laughed, and said: " Uncle Remus, you haven't told me how you knew me in that great crowd." 204 A STORY OF THE WAR. The old man chuckled, and gave the horses a gentle rap with the whip. "Who? Me! Iknow'd you by de faver. Dat boy er Mars John's is de ve'y spit en immij un you. I'd a know'd you in New 'Leens, let 'lone down dar in de kyar-shed." This was Miss Theodosia's introduction to Uncle Remus. One Sunday afternoon, a few weeks after her arrival, the family were assembled in the piazza enjoying the mild weather. Mr. Huntingdon was reading a newspaper; his wife was crooning softly as she rocked the baby to sleep; and the little boy was endeavoring to show his Aunt Dosia the out- lines of Kennesaw Mountain through the purple haze that hung like a wonderfully fashioned cur- tain in the sky and almost obliterated the hori- zon. While they were thus engaged, Uncle Remus came around the corner of the house, talking to him- self. " Dey er too lazy ter wuk," he was saying, " en dey specks hones' fokes fer ter stan' up en s'port um. I'm gwine down ter Putmon County whar Mars Jeems is dat's w'at I'm agwine ter do." " What's the matter now, Uncle Remus ? " inquired Mr. Huntingdon, folding up his newspaper. "Nuthin' 'tall, Mars John, 'ceppin deze yer sun- shine niggers. Dey begs my terbacker, en borrys my tools, en steals my vittles, en hit's done come ter dat A STORY OF THE WAR. 205 pass dat I gotter pack up en go. I'm agwine down ter Putmon, dat's w'at." Uncle Remus was accustomed to make this threat several times a day, but upon this occasion it seemed to remind Mr. Huntingdon of something. " Very well," lie said, " I'll come around and help you pack up, but before you go I want you to tell Sister here how you went to war and fought for the Union. Remus was a famous warrior," he continued, turning to Miss Theodosia; "he volunteered for one day, and commanded an army of one. You know the story, but you have never heard Remus's version." Uncle Remus shuffled around in an awkward, embarrassed way, scratched his head, and looked un- comfortable. " Miss Doshy ain't got no time fer ter set dar an year de ole nigger run on." " Oh, yes, I have, Uncle Remus ! " exclaimed the young lady ; " plenty of time." The upshot of it was that, after many ridiculous protests, Uncle Remus sat down on the steps, and pro- ceeded to tell his story of the war. Miss Theodosia listened with great interest, but throughout it all she observed and she was painfully conscious of the fact, as she afterward admitted that Uncle Remus spoke from the standpoint of a Southerner, and with the air of one who expected his hearers to thoroughly sympathize with him. 206 A STORY OF THE WAR. " Co'se," said Uncle Remus, addressing himself to Miss Theodosia, "you ain't bin to Putmon, en you dunner whar de Brad Slaughter place en Harmony Grove is, but Mars John en Miss Sally, dey bin dar a time er two, en dey knows how de Ian' lays. Well, den, it 'uz right 'long in dere whar Mars Jeems lived, en whar he live now. When de war come 'long he wuz livin' dere longer Ole Miss en Miss Sally. Ole Miss 'uz his ma, en Miss Sally dar 'uz his sister. De war come des like I tell you, en marters sorter rock along same like dey allers did. Hit didn't strike me dat dey wuz enny war gwine on, en ef I hadn't sorter miss de nabers, en seed fokes gwine outer de way fer ter ax de news, I'd a 'lowed ter myse'f dat de war wuz 'way off 'mong some yuther country. But all dis time de fuss wuz gwine on, en Mars Jeems, he wuz des eatchin' fer ter put in. Ole Miss en Miss Sally, dey tuck on so he didn't git off de fus' year, but bimeby news come down dat times wuz gittin putty hot, en Mars Jeems he got up, he did, en say he gotter go, en go he did. He got a overseer fer ter look atter de place, en he went en jined de army. En Jie 'uz a fighter, too, mon, Mars Jeems wuz. Many's en many's de time," continued the old man, reflectively, "dat I hatter take'n bresh dat boy on accounter his 'buzin* en beatin' dem yuther boys. He went off dar fer ter fight, en he fit. Ole Miss useter call me up Sunday en read w'at de papers say 'bout Mars Jeems, en it A STORY OF THE WAR. 207 hope 'er up might'ly. I kin see 'er des like it 'uz yistiddy. " ' Remus,' sez she, ' dish yer's w'at de papers say 'bout my baby,' en den she'd read out twel she couldn't read fer cryin'. Hit went on dis way year in en year out, en dem wuz lonesome times, sho's you bawn, Miss Doshy lonesome times, sho. Hit got hotter en hotter in de war, en lonesomer en mo' lonesomer at home, en bimeby 'long come de conscrip' man, en he des ever- las'nly scoop up Mars Jeems's overseer. "Wen dis come 'bou*, ole Miss, she sont atter me en say, sez she: " * Eemus, I ain't got nobody fer ter look arter de place but you,' sez she, en den I up'n say, sez I : " ' Mistiss, you kin des 'pen' on de ole nigger.' " I wuz ole den, Miss Doshy let 'lone w'at I is now ; en you better b'leeve I bossed dem han's. I had dem niggers up en in de fiel' long 'fo' day, en de way dey did wuk wuz a caution. Ef dey didn't earnt der vittles dat season den I ain't name Remus. But dey wuz tuk keer un. Dey had plenty er cloze en plenty er grub,' en dey wuz de fattes' niggers in de settlement. " Bimeby one day, Ole Miss, she call me up en say de Yankees done gone en tuck Atlanty dish yer ve'y town ; den present'y I year dey wuz a marchin' on down todes Putmon, en, lo en beholes! one day, de fus news I know'd, Mars Jeems he rid up wid a whole gang er men. He des stop long nuff fer ter change 208 A STORY OF THE WAR. bosses en snatch a mouffle er sump'n' ter eat, but 'fo' he rid off, he call me up en say, sez he : " Daddy 'all Ole Miss's chilluns call me daddy ' Daddy,' he say, ' 'pears like dere's gwineter be mighty rough times 'roun' yer. De Yankees, dey er done got ter Madison en Mounticellar, en 't won't be many days 'fo' dey er down yer. 'Tain't likely dey'll pester mother ner sister; but, daddy, ef de wus come ter de wus, I speck you ter take keer un um,' sezee. " Den I say, sez I : ' How long you bin knowin' me, Mars Jeems ? ' sez I. " ' Sence I wuz a baby,' sezee. "'Well, den, Mars Jeems,' sez I, 'you know'd 'twa'nt no use fer ter ax me ter take keer Ole Miss en Miss Sally.' " Den he tuck'n squoze my han' en jump on de filly I bin savin' fer 'im, en rid off. One time he tu'n 'roun' en look like he wanter say sump'n', but he des waf his han' so en gallop on. I know'd den dat trouble wuz brewin'. Nigger dat knows he's gwineter git thumped kin sorter fix hisse'f, en I tuck'n fix up like de war wuz gwineter come right in at de front gate. I tuck'n got all de cattle en bosses tergedder en driv' um ter de fo'-mile place, en I tuck all de corn en fodder en w'eat, en put um in a crib out dar in de woods ; en I bilt me a pen in de swamp, en dar I put de hogs. Den, w'en I fix all dis, I put on my Sunday cloze en groun' my axe. Two whole days I groun' dat A STORY OF THE WAR. 209 axe. De grinestone wuz in sight er de gate en ter de big 'ouse, en dar I tuck my stan'. " Bimeby one day, yer come de Yankees. Two un um come fus, en den de whole face er de yeath swawm'd. wid um. De fus glimpse I kotch un um, I tuck my axe en march inter Ole Miss settin'-room. She done had de sidebode move in dar, en I wish I may drap ef 'twuzn't fa'rly blazin' wid silver silver cups en silver sassers, silver plates en silver dishes, silver mugs en silver pitchers. Look like ter me dey wuz fixin' fer a weddin'. Dar sot Ole Miss des ez prim en ez proud ez ef she own de whole county. Dis kinder hope me up, kaze I done seed Ole Miss look dat away once befo' w'en de overseer struck me in de face wid a w'ip. I sot down by de fier wid my axe 'tween my knees. Dar we sot w'iles de Yankees ransack de place. Miss Sally, dar, she got sorter rest- less, but Ole Miss didn't skasely bat 'er eyes. Bimeby, we hear steps on de peazzer, en yer come a couple er young fellers wid strops on der shoulders, en der sodes a draggin' on de flo', en der spurrers a rattlin'. I won't say I wuz skeer'd," said Uncle Remus, as though endeavoring to recall something he failed to remember, " I won't say I wuz skeer'd, kaze I wuz- ent; but I wuz took'n wid a mighty funny feelin' in de naberhood er de gizzard. Dey wuz mighty perlite, dem young chaps wuz; but Ole Miss, she never tu'n 'er head, en Miss Sally, she look straight 210 A STORY OF THE WAR. at de fier. Bimeby one un um see me, en he say, sezee : " '-Hello, ole man, w'at you doin' in yer?' sezee. " ' Well, boss,' sez I, ' I bin cuttin' some wood fer Ole Miss, en I des stop fer ter worn my han's a little,' sez I. " ' Hit is cole, dat's a fack,' sezee. "Wid dat I got up en tuck my stan' behime Ole Miss en Miss Sally, en de man w'at speak, he went up en worn his han's. Fus thing you know, he raise up sudden, en say, sezee : " < W'at dat on yo' axe ? ' " ' Dat's de fier shinin' on it,' sez I. " ' Hit look like blood,' sezee, en den he laft. " But, bless yo' soul, dat man wouldn't never laft dat day ef he'd know'd de wukkins er Remus's mine. But dey didn't bodder nobody ner tech nuthin', en bimeby dey put out. Well, de Yankees, dey kep' passin' all de mawnin' en it look like ter me dey wuz a string un um ten mile long. Den dey commence gittin' thinner en thinner, en den atter w'ile we hear skummishin' in de naberhood er Armer's fe'y, en Ole Miss 'low how dat wuz Wheeler's men makin' persoot. Mars Jeems wuz wid dem Wheeler fellers, en I know'd ef dey wuz dat close I wa'n't doin' no good settin' 'roun' de house toas'n my shins at de fier, so I des tuck Mars Jeems's rifle fum behime de do' en put out" ter look atter my stock. En wadder you speck I see I ' A STORY OF THE WAR. 211 " Seem like I ain't never see no raw day like dat, needer befo' ner sence. Dey wa'n't no rain, but de wet des sifted down ; mighty raw day. De leaves on de groun' 'uz so wet dey don't make no fuss, en I got in de woods, en w'enever I year de Yankees gwine by, I des stop in my tracks en let um pass. I wuz stan'in' dat away in de aidge er de woods lookin' out 'cross a clearin', rfeupiff out come a little bunch er blue smoke fum de top er wunner dem big lonesome-lookin' pines, en den -pow ! " Sez I ter myse'f, sez I : ' Honey, youer right on my route, en I'll des see w'at kinder bird you got roostin' in you,' en w'iles I wuz a lookin' out bus' de smoke piff ! en den bang! Wid dat I des drapt back inter de woods, en sorted skeerted 'roun' so's ter git de tree 'twix' me en de road. I slid up putty close, en wadder you speck I see ? Des ez sho's youer settin' dar lissenin' dey wuz a live Yankee up dar in dat tree, en he wuz a loadin' en a shootin' at de boys dez ez cool es a cowcumber in de jew, en he had his hoss hitch out in de bushes, kaze I year de creetur tromplin' 'roun'. He had a spy-glass up dar, en w'iles I wuz a watchin' un 'im, he raise 'er up en look thoo 'er, en den he lay 'er down en fix his gun fer ter shoot. I had good eyes in dem days, ef I ain't got um now, en 'way up de big road I see Mars Jeems a comin'. Hit wuz too fur fer ter see his face, but I know'd 'im by de filly w'at I raise fer 'im, en she wuz a prancin' like a school-gal. 212 A STORY OP THE WAR. I know'd dat man wuz gwineter shoot Mars Jeems ef he could, en dat wuz mo'n I could stan'. Manys en manys de time dat I nuss dat boy, en hilt 'im in dese arms, en toted 'im on dis back, en w'en I see dat Yankee lay dat gun 'cross a lim' en take aim at Mars Jeems I up wid my ole rifle, en shet my eyes en let de man have all she had." " Do you mean to say," exclaimed Miss Theodosia, indignantly, " that you shot the Union soldier, when you knew he was fighting for your freedom ? " "Co'se, I know all about dat," responded Uncle Remus, " en it sorter made cole chills run up my back ; but w'en I see dat man take aim, en Mars Jeems gwine home ter Ole Miss en Miss Sally, I des disremembered all 'bout freedom en lammed aloose. En den atter dat, me en Miss Sally tuck en nuss de man right straight along. He los' one arm in dat tree bizness, but me en Miss Sally we nuss 'im en we nuss 'im twel he done got well. Des 'bout dat time I quit nuss'n 'im, but Miss Sally she kep' on. She kep' on," continued Uncle Remus, pointing to Mr. Huntingdon, " en now dar he is." " But you cost him an arm," exclaimed Miss Theo^ dosia. " I gin 'im dem," said Uncle Remus, pointing to Mrs. Huntingdon, "en I gin 'im deze" holding up his own brawny arms. " En ef dem ain't nufl: fer enny man den I done los' de way." HIS SAYINGS JEEMS ROBER'SOWS LAST ILLNESS. A JONESBOKO negro, while waiting for the train to go out, met up with Uncle Kemus. After the usual " time of day " had been passed between the two, the former inquired about an acquaintance. " How's Jeems Rober'son ? " he asked. " Ain't you year 'bout Jim ? " asked Uncle Remus. "Dat I ain't," responded the other ; " I ain't hear talk er Jem sence he cut loose fum de chain-gang. Dat w'at make I ax. He ain't down wid de biliousness, is he ? " "Not dat I knows un," responded Uncle Remus, gravely. "He ain't sick, an' he ain't bin sick. He des tuck'n say he wuz gwineter ride dat ar roan mule er Mars John's de udder Sunday, an' de mule, she up'n do like she got nudder (215) 216 HIS SAYINGS. ingagement. I done bin fool wid dat mule befo', an' I tuck'n tole Jim dat he better not git tangle up wid 'er ; but Jim, he up'n 'low dat he wuz a hoss-doctor, an' wid dat he ax me fer a chaw terbarker, en den he got de bridle, en tuck'n kotch de mule en got on her Well," continued Uncle Eemus, looking uneasily around, "I speck you better go git yo' ticket. Dey tells me dish yer train goes a callyhootin'." " Hole on dar, Uncle Eemus ; you ain't tell me 'bout Jim," exclaimed the Jonesboro negro. " I done tell you all I knows, chile. Jim, he tuck'n light on de mule, an' de mule she up'n hump 'erse'f, an den dey wuz a skuffle, an' w'en de dus' blow 'way, dar lay de nigger on de groun' , an' de mule she stood eatin' at de troff wid wunner Jim's gallusses wrop 'roun' her behime-leg. Den atterwuds, de ker'ner, he come 'roun', an' he tuck'n gin it out dat Jim died sorter accidental like. Hit's des like I tell you: de nigger wern't sick a minnit. So long ! Bimeby you won't ketch yo' train. I got ter be knockin' long." n. UNCLE REMUS'S CHURCH EXPERIENCE. THE deacon of a colored church met Uncle Eemus recently, and, after some uninteresting remarks about the weather, asked : UNCLE REMUS'S CHURCH EXPERIENCE. 217 " How dis you don't come down ter chu'ch no mo', Brer Remus? We er bin er havin' some mighty 'freshen' times lately." ' " Hit's bin a long time sence I bin down dar, Brer Rastus, an' hit'll be longer. I done got my dose." "You ain't done gone an' unjined, is you, Brer Remus?" "Not zackly, Brer Rastus. I des tuck'n draw'd out. De members 'uz a blame sight too mutuel fer ter suit my doctrines." " How wuz dat, Brer Remus ? " " Well, I tell you, Brer Rastus. W'en I went ter dat chu'ch, I went des ez umbill ez de nex' one. I went dar fer ter sing, an' fer ter pray, an' fer ter wushup, an' I mos' giner'lly allers had a stray shinplarster w'ich de ole 'oman say she want sont out dar ter dem cullud fokes 'cross de water. Hit went on dis way twel bimeby, one day, de fus news I know'd der was a row got up in de amen cornder. Brer Dick, he 'nounced dat dey wern't nuff money in de box ; an' Brer Sim said if dey wern't he speck Brer Dick know'd whar it disappeared ter ; an' den Brer Dick 'low'd dat he won't stan' no 'probusness, an' wid dat he haul off an' tuck Brer Sim under de jaw ker Uap ! an' den dey clinched an' drapped on de flo' an' fout under de benches an' 'mong de wimmen. " 'Bout dat time Sis Tempy, she lipt up in de a'r, an' sing out dat she done gone an' tromple on de Ole 31 218 HIS SAYINGS. Boy, an' she kep' on lippin' up an' slingin' out 'er ban's twel bimeby Uip ! she tuck Sis Becky in de mouf, an' den Sis Becky riz an' fetch a grab at Sis Tempy, an' I 'clar' ter grashus ef didn't 'pear ter me like she got a poun' er wool. Atter dat de revivin' sorter het up like. Bofe un um had kin 'mong de mo'ners, an' ef you ever see skufflin' an' scramblin' hit wuz den an' dar. Brer Jeems Henry, he mounted Brer Plato an' rid 'irn over de railin', an' den de preacher he start down fum de pulpit, an' des ez he wuz skippin' enter de flatform a hyme-book kotch 'im in de bur er de year, an' I be bless ef it didn't soun' like a bung- shell'd busted. Des den, Brer Jesse, he riz up in his Beat, sorter keerless like, an' went down inter his britches atter his razer, an' right den I know'd sho* nuff trubble wuz begun. Sis Dilsey, she seed it herse'f, an' she tuck'n let off wunner dem hallyluyah hollers, an' den I disremember w'at come ter pass. " I'm gittin' sorter ole, Brer Eastus, an' it seem like de dus' sorter shet out de pannyrammer. Fuddermo', my lim's got ter akin, mo' speshully w'en I year Brer Sim an' Brer Dick a snortin' and a skufflin under de UNCLE REMUS'S CHURCH EXPERIENCE. 219 benches like ez dey wuz sorter makin' der way ter my pew. So I kinder hump myse'f an' scramble out, and de f us man w'at I seed was a p'leeceman, an' he had a nigger 'rested, an' de fergiven name er dat nigger wuz Kemus." " He didn't 'res' you, did he, Brer Kemus ? " " Hit's des like I tell you, Brer Kastus, an' I hatter git Mars John fer to go inter my bon's fer me. Hit ain't no use fer ter sing out chu'ch ter me, Brer Rastus. I done bin an' got my dose. Wen I goes ter war, I wanter know w'at I'm a doin'. I don't wanter git hemmed up 'mong no wimmen and preachers. I wants elbow-room, an' I'm bleedzd ter have it. Des gimme elbow-room." " But, Brer Remus, you ain't : " I mout drap in, Brer Rastus, an' den ag'in I moutn't, but w'en you duz see me santer in de do', wid my specs on, youk'n des say to de congergashun, sorter familious like, ' Yer come ole man Remus wid his hoss-pistol, an' ef dar's much uv a skuffle 'roun' yer dis evenin' youer gwineter year fum 'im.' Dat's me, an' dat's what you kin tell um. So long ! Member me to Sis Abby." 220 HIS SAYINGS. III. UNCLE REMUS AND THE SAVANNAH DARKEY. THE notable difference existing between the negroes in the interior of the cotton States and those on the seaboard a difference that extends to habits and opin- ions as well as to dialect has given rise to certain ineradicable prejudices which are quick to display themselves whenever an opportunity offers. These prejudices were forcibly, as well as ludicrously, illus- trated in Atlanta recently. A gentleman from Savan- nah had been spending the summer in the mountains of north Georgia, and found it convenient to take along a body-servant. This body-servant was a very fine specimen of the average coast negro sleek, well- conditioned, and consequential disposed to regard with undisguised contempt everything and everybody not indigenous to the rice-growing region and he paraded around the streets with quite a curious and critical air. Espying Uncle Remus languidly sunning himself on a corner, the Savannah darkey approached. "Mornin', sah." " I'm sorter up an' about," responded Uncle Remus, carelessly and calmly. " How is you stannin' it ? " " Tanky you, my helt mos' so-so. He mo' hot dun in de mountain. Seem so lak man mus' git need* * Underneath. UNCLE REMUS AND THE SAVANNAH DARKEY. 221 de shade. I enty fer see no rice - bud in dis pa'ts." " In dis w'ich ? " inquired Uncle Remus, with a sudden affectation of interest. " In dis pa'ts. In dis country. Da plenty in Sawanny." " Plenty whar ? " " Da plenty in Sawanny. I enty fer see no crab an' no oscher ; en swiinp, he no stay 'roun'. I lak some rice-bud now." "Youer talkin' 'bout deze yer sparrers, w'ich dey er all head, en 'lev'm un makes one mouffle, * I speck," suggested Uncle Eemus. " Well, dey er yer," he continued, " but dis ain't no climate whar de rice-birds flies inter yo' pockets en gits out de money an' makes de change derse'f ; an' de isters don't shuck off der shells en run over you on de street, an' no mo' duz de s'imp hull derse'f an' drap in yo' mouf. But dey er yer, dough. De scads '11 fetch um." " Him po' country fer true," commented the Sa- vannah negro ; " he no like Sawanny. Down da, we set need de shade an' eaty de rice-bud, an'.de crab, an' de swimp tree time de day ; an' de buckra man drinky * Mouthful. 222 HIS SAYINGS. him wine, an' smoky him seegyar all troo de night. Plenty fer eat an' not much fer wuk." " Hit's mighty nice, I speck," responded Uncle Remus, gravely. " De nigger dat ain't hope up 'longer high feedin' ain't got no grip. But up yer whar fokes is gotter scramble 'roun' an' make der own livin', de vittles wat's kumerlated widout enny sweatin' mos' allers gener'lly b'longs ter some yuther man by rights. One hoe-cake an' a rasher er middlin' meat las's me fum Sunday ter Sunday, an' I'm in a mighty big streak er luck w'en I gits dat." The Savannah negro here gave utterance to a loud, contemptuous laugh, and began to fumble somewhat ostentatiously with a big brass watch-chain. " But I speck I struck up wid a payin' job las' Chuseday," continued Uncle Remus, in a hopeful tone. " Wey you gwan do ? " " Oh, I'm a waitin' on a culled gemmun fum Sa- vannah wunner deze yer high livers you bin tellin' 'bout." "How dat?" " I loant 'im two dollars," responded Uncle Remus, grimly, " an' I'm a waitin' on 'im fer de money. Hit's wunner deze yer jobs w'at las's a long time." The Savannah negro went off after his rice-birds, while Uncle Remus leaned up against the wall and laughed until he was in imminent danger of falling down from sheer exhaustion. TURNIP SALID AS A TEXT. 223 IV. TURNIP SALAD AS A TEXT. As Uncle Remus was going down the street re- cently he was accosted by several acquaintances. " Heyo ! " said one, " here comes Uncle Remus. He look like he gwine fer ter set up a bo'din-house." Several others bantered the old man, but he appeared to be in a good humor. He was carrying a huge basket of vegetables. " How many er you boys," said he, as he put his basket down, "is done a han's turn dis day? En yit de week's done commence. I year talk er niggers dat's got money in de bank, but I lay hit ain't none er you fellers. "Whar you speck you gwineter git yo' dinner, en how you speck you gwineter git 'long ? " " Oh, we sorter knocks 'roun' an' picks up a livin'," responded one. "Dat's w'at make I say w'at I duz," said Uncle Remus. " Fokes go 'bout in de day-time an' makes a livin', an' you come 'long w'en dey er res'in' der bones 224 HIS SAYINGS. an' picks it up. I ain't no ban' at figgers, but I lay I k'n count up right yer in de san' en number up how menny days hit'll be 'fo' you'er cuppled on ter de chain-gang." " De ole man's holler 'n now sho'," said one of the listeners, gazing with admiration on the venerable old darkey. "I ain't takin' no chances 'bout vittles. Hit's proned inter me fum de fus dat I got ter eat, en I knows dat I got fer ter grub fer w'at I gits. Hit's agin de mor'l law fer niggers fer ter eat w'en dey don't wuk, an' w'en you see um 'pariently fattenin' on a'r, you k'n des bet dat ruinashun's gwine on some'rs. I got mustard, en poke salid, en lam's quarter in dat baskit, en me en my ole 'oman gwineter sample it. Ef enny you boys git a invite you come, but ef you don't you better stay 'way. I gotter muskit out dar w'at's used ter persidin' 'roun' whar dey's a cripple nigger. Don't you fergit dat off'n yo' mine." v. A CONFESSION. " WAT'S dis yer I see, great big niggers gwine 'lopin' 'roun' town wid cakes 'n pies fer ter sell ? " asked Uncle Remus recently, in his most scornful tone. A CONFESSION. 225 " That's what they are doing," responded a young man ; " that's the way they make a living." " Dat w'at make I say w'at I duz dat w'at keep me grum'lin' w'en I goes in cullud fokes s'ciety. Some niggers ain't gwine ter wuk nohow, an' hit's flingin' 'way time fer ter set enny chain-gang traps fer ter ketch um." " "Well, now, here ! " exclaimed the young man, in a dramatic tone, " what are you giving us now ? Isn't it just as honest and just as regular to sell pies as it is to do any other kind of work ? " " 'Tain't dat, boss," said the old man, seeing that he was about to be cornered ; " 'tain't dat. Hit's de nas'ness un it w'at gits me." " Oh, get out ! " " Dat's me, boss, up an' down. Ef dere's ruinashun ennywhar in de known wurril, she goes in de comp'ny uv a hongry nigger w'at's a totin' pies 'roun'. Sometimes w'en I git kotch wid emptiness in de pit er de stummuck, an' git ter fairly honin' arter sump'n' w'at got substance in it, den hit look like unto me dat I kin stan' flat-footed aa' make more cle'r money eatin' pies dan I could if I wuz ter sell de las' one 226 HIS SAYINGS. 'twixt dis an' Chrismus. An' de nigger w'at k'n trapes 'round wid pies and not git in no alley-way an' sample um, den I'm bleedzd ter say dat nigger out- niggers me an' my fambly. So dar now ! " UNCLE REMUS WITH THE TOOTHACHE. WHEN Uncle Remus put in an appearance one morning recently, his friends knew he had been in trouble. He had a red cotton handkerchief tied under his chin, and the genial humor that usually makes his aged face its dwelling-place had given way to an ex- pression of grim melancholy. The young men about the office were inclined to chaff him, but his look of sullen resignation remained unchanged. " What revival did you attend last night ? " inquired one. " What was the color of the mule that did the ham- mering ? " asked another. " I always told the old man that a suburban chicken, coop would fall on him," remarked some one. " A strange pig has been squealing in his ear," sug> gested some one else. But Uncle Remus remained impassive. He seemed to have lost all interest in what was going on around him, and he sighed heavily as he seated himself on the UNCLE REMUS WITH THE TOOTHACHE. 27 edge of the trash-box in front of the office. Finally some one asked, in a sympathetic tone : "What is the matter, old man? You look like you'd been through the mill." " Now you'er knockin' at de back do' sho'. Ef I ain't bin thoo de mill sence day' fo' yistiddy, den dey ain't no mills in de Ian'. Ef wunner deze yer scurshun trains had runned over me I couldn't er bin wuss off. I bin trompin' 'roun' in de low-groun's now gwine on seventy-fi' year, but I ain't see no sich times ez dat w'at I done spe'unst now. is enny er you all ever rastled wid de toofache ? " " Oh, hundreds of times ! The toothache isn't any- thing." " Den you des played 'roun' de aidges. You ain't had de kine w'at kotch me on de underjaw. You mout a had a gum-bile, but you ain't bin boddered wid de toofache. I wuz settin' up talkin' wid my ole 'oman, kinder puzzlin' 'roun' fer ter see whar de nex' meal's vittles wuz a gwineter cum fum, an' I feel a 228 HIS SAYINGS. little ache sorter crawlin' 'long on my jaw-bone, kinder feelin' his way. But de ache don't stay long. He sorter hankered 'roun' like, en den crope back whar he come fum. Bimeby I feel 'im comin' agin, an' dis time hit look like he come up closer kinder skummishin' 'roun' fer ter see how de Ian' lay. Den he went off. Present'y I feel 'im comin', an' dis time hit look like he kyar'd de news unto Mary, fer hit feel like der wuz anudder wun wid 'im. Dey crep' up an' crep' 'roun', an' den dey crope off. Bimeby dey come back, an' dis time dey come like dey wuzent 'fear'd er de s'roundin's, fer dey trot right up unto de toof, sorter zamine it like, an' den trot all roun' it, like deze yer circuous hosses. I sot dar mighty ca'm, but I spected dat sump'n' wuz gwine ter happ'n." " And it happened, did it ? " asked some one in the group surrounding the old man. " Boss, don't you fergit it," responded Uncle Kemus, fervidly. " Wen dem aches gallop back dey galloped fer ter stay, an' dey wuz so mixed up dat I couldn't tell one fum de udder. All night long dey racked an' dey galloped, an' w'en dey got tired er rackin' an' gallopin', dey all close in on de ole toof an' thumped it an' gouged at it twel it 'peared unto me dat dey had got de jaw- bone loosened up, an' wuz tryin' fer ter fetch it up thoo de top er my head an' out at der back er my neck. An' dey got wuss nex' day. Mars John, he seed I wuz 'stracted, an' he tole me fer ter go roun' yere an' git THE PHONOGRAPH. 229 sump'n' put on it, an' de drug man he 'lowed dat I bet- ter have 'er draw'd, an' his wuds wuzent more'n cole 'fo' wunner deze yer watchyoumaycollums wunner deze dentis' mens had retched fer it wid a pa'r er tongs w'at don't tu'n loose w'en dey ketches a holt. Leas'ways dey didn't wid me. You oughter seed dat toof , boss. Hit wuz wunner deze yer f o'-prong fellers. Ef she'd a grow'd wrong eend out'ard, I'd a bin a bad nigger long arter I jin'd de chu'ch. You year'd my ho'n ! " VII. THE PHONOGRAPH. " UNC REMUS," asked a tall, awkward-looking negro, who was one of a crowd surrounding the old man, " w'at's dish 'ere w'at dey calls de fonygraf dish yer inst'ument w'at kin holler 'roun' like little chillun in de back yard ? " " I ain't seed um," said Uncle Eemus, feeling in his pocket for a fresh chew of tobacco. " I ain't seed um, but I year talk un um. Miss Sally wuz a readin' in de papers las' Chuseday, an' she say dat's it's a mighty big watchyoumaycollum." " A mighty big w'ich ? " asked one of the crowd. " A mighty big w'atzisname," answered Uncle Re- mus, cautiously. " I wuzent up dar close to whar Miss 230 HIS SAYINGS. Sarah wuz a readin', but I kinder geddered in dat it wuz one er deze 'ere w'atzfsnames w'at you hollere inter one year an' it comes out er de udder. Hit's mighty funny unter me how dese fokes kin go an' prognosticate der eckoes inter one er deze yer i'on boxes, an' dar hit'll stay on twel de man comes 'long an' tu'ns de handle an' let's de fuss come pilin' out. Bimeby dey'll git ter makin' sho' nuff fokes, an' den dere'll be a racket 'roun' here. Dey tells me dat it goes off like one er deze yer torpedoes." " You year dat, don't you ? " said one or two of the younger negroes. " Dat's w'at dey tells me," continued Uncle Eemus. "Dat's w'at dey sez. Hit's one er deze yer kinder w'atzisnames w'at sasses back w'en you hollers at it." " Wat dey fix urn fer, den ? " asked one of the practical negroes. "Dat's w'at I wanter know," said Uncle Kemus, contemplatively. "But dat's w'at Miss Sally wuz a readin' in de paper. All you gotter do is ter holler at de box, an' dar's yo' remarks. Dey goes in, an' dar dey er tooken and dar dey hangs on twel you shakes RACE IMPROVEMENT. 231 de box, an' den dey draps out des ez fresh ez deze yer fishes w'at you git fum Savannah, an' you ain't got time fer ter look at dere gills, nudder." vm. RACE IMPROVEMENT. " DEKE'S a kind er limberness 'bout niggers dese days dat's mighty cu'us," remarked Uncle Remus yes- terday, as he deposited a pitcher of fresh water upon the exchange table. " I notisses it in de alley- ways an' on de street-cornders. Dey er rackin' up, mon, deze yer cullud f okes is." " What are you trying to give us now ? " inquired one of the young men, in a bilious tone. "The old man's mind is wandering," said the society editor, smoothing the wrinkles out of hia lavender kids. Uncle Remus laughed. " I speck I is a gittin' mo frailer dan I wuz 'fo' de fahmin days wuz over, but I sees wid my eyes an' I years wid my year, same ez enny er dese yer young bucks w'at goes a gallopin' 'roun' huntin' up devilment, an' w'en I sees de limber- ness er dese yer cullud people, an' w'en I sees how dey er dancin' up, den I gits sorter hopeful. Dey er kinder ketchin' up wid me." "How is that?" 232 HIS SAYINGS. "Oh, dey er movin'," responded Uncle Remus " Dey er sorter comin' 'roun'. Dey er gittin' so dey b'leeve dat dey ain't no better dan de w'ite fokes. Wen freedom come out de niggers sorter got dere humps up, an' dey staid dat way, twel bimeby dey begun fer ter git hongry, an' den dey begun fer ter drap inter line right srnartually ; an' now," continued the old man, em- phatically, " dey er des ez palaver- ous ez dey wuz befo' de war. Dey er gittin' on solid groun', mon." " You think they are improving, then?" "Youer chawin' guv'nment now, boss. You slap de law onter a nigger a time er two, an' larn 'im dat he's got fer to look atter his own rashuns an' keep out'n udder fokes's chick'n-coops, an' sorter coax 'im inter de idee dat he's got ter feed 'is own chilluns, an' I be blessed ef you ain't got 'im on risin' groun'. An', mo'n dat, w'en he gits holt er de fack dat a nigger k'n have yaller fever same ez w'ite folks, you done got 'im on de mo'ners' bench, an' den ef you come down strong on de p'int dat he oughter stan' fas' by de fokes w'at hope him w'en he wuz in trouble de job's done. Wen you does dat, ef you ain't got yo' han's on a new-made nigger, den my name ain't Remus, IN THE R6LE OF A TARTAR. 233 an* ef dat name's bin changed I ain't seen her abber- tized." IX. IN THE RdLE OF A TARTAR. A CHARLESTON negro who was in Atlanta on the Fourth of July made a mistake. He saw Uncle Remus edging his way through the crowd, and thought he knew him. " Howdy, Daddy Ben ? " the stranger exclaimed. " I tink I nubber see you no mo'. Wey you gwan ? He hot f er true, ain't he ? " " Daddy who ? " asked Uncle Remus, straightening himself up with dignity. " Wich ? " " I know you in Charl'son, an' den in Sewanny. I spec I dun grow away from 'membrance." "You knowed me in Charlstun, and den in Sa- vanny ? " " He been long time, ain't he, Daddy Ben ?" " Dat's w'at's a pesterin' un me. How much you reckon you know'd me ? " "He good while pas'; when I wer' pickaninny. He long time ago. Wey you gwan, Daddy Ben ? " "Wat does you season your recollection wid fer ter make it hole on so ? " inquired the old man. " I dunno. He stick hese'f . I see you comin' 'long 'n I say ' Dey Daddy Ben.' I tink I see you no mo', 234 HIS SAYINGS. an' I shaky you by de ban'. Wey you gwan ? Dey no place yer wey we git wine ? " Uncle Remus stared at the strange darkey curiously for a moment, and then he seized him by the arm. " Come yer, son, whar dey ain't no folks an' lemme drap some Jawjy 'intment in dem years er-yone. Youer mighty fur ways fum home, an' you wanter be a lookin' out fer yo'se'f. Fus and fo'mus, youer thump- up de wrong chube. I ain't tromped roun' de country much. I ain't bin to Charlstun an' needer is I tuck in Savanny ; but you couldn't rig up no game on me dat I wouldn't tumble on to it de minit I laid my eyeballs on you. T^'en hit come ter dat I'm ole man Tumbler, fum Tumblersville I is dat. Hit takes one er deze yer full-blooded w'ite men fur ter trap my jedgment. But w'en a nigger comes a jabberin' 'roun' like he got a mouf full er rice straw, he ain't got no mo' chance 'long side er me dan a sick sparrer wid a squinch-owl. You gotter travel wid a circus 'fo' you gits away wid A CASE OF MEASLES. 235 me. You better go 'long an' git yo' kyarpet-sack and skip de town. Youer de freshest nigger w'at I seen yit." The Charleston negro passed on just as a policeman came up. " Boss, you see dat smart Ellick ? " " Yes ; what's the matter with him ? " " He's one er deze yer scurshun niggers from Charl- stun. I seed you a stannin' over agin de cornder yan- der, an' ef dat nigger'd a drawd his monty kyards on me, I wuz a gwineter holler fer you. Would youer come, boss ? " " Why, certainly, Uncle Eemus." "Dat's w'at I 'lowd. Little more'n he'd a bin aboard er de wrong waggin. Dat's w'at he'd a bin." A CASE OF MEASLES. " YOU'VE been looking like you were rather under the weather for the past week or two, Uncle Remus," said a gentleman to the old man. " You'd be sorter puny, too, boss, if you'der bin -whar I bin." " Where have you been ? " " Tear ter me like ev'eybocly done year 'bout dat. 236 HIS SAYINGS. Dey ain't no ole nigger my age an' size dat's had no rattliner time dan I is." "A kind of picnic?" " Go 'long, boss ! w'at you speck I be doin' sailin* 'roun' ter dese yer cullud picnics? Much mo' an' I wouldn't make bread by wukkin fer't, let 'lone follerin* up a passel er boys an' gals all over keration. Boss, ain't you year 'bout it, sho' 'nuff ? " " I haven't, really. What was the matter ? " " I got strucken wid a sickness, an' she hit de ole nigger a joe-darter 'fo' she tu'n 'im loose." " What kind of sickness ? " " Hit look sorter cu'ous, boss, but ole an' steddy ez I is, I tuck'n kotch de meezles." " Oh, get out ! You are trying to get up a sensa- tion." "Hit's a natal fack, boss, I declar' ter grashus ef 'tain't. Dey sorter come on wid a cole, like leas'ways dat's how I commence fer ter suffer, an' den er koff got straddle er de cole one dese yer koffs w'at look like hit goes ter de foundash'n. I kep' on linger'n' 'roun' sorter keepin' one eye on the rheumatiz an' de udder on de distemper, twel, bimeby, I begin fer ter feel de trestle-wuk give way, an' den I des know'd dat I wuz gwineter gitter racket. I slipt inter bed one Chuseday night, an' I never slip out no mo' fer mighty .nigh er mont'. " Nex' mornin' de meezles 'd done kivered me, an' A CASE OP MEASLES. 237 den ef I didn't git dosted by de ole 'oman I'm a Chinee. She gimme back rashuns er sassafac tea. I des natallj hankered an' got hongry atter water, an' ev'y time I sing out fer water I got b'ilin' hot sassafac tea. Hit got so dat w'en I wake up in de mornin' de ole 'oman 'd des come 'long wid a kittle er tea an' fill me up. Dey tells me 'roun' town dat chilluns don't git hurted wid de meezles, w'ich ef dey don't I wanter be a baby de nex' time dey hits dis place. All dis yer meezles bizness is bran'-new ter me. In ole times, 'fo' de wah, I ain't heer tell er no seventy-fi'-year-ole nigger grap- plin' wid no meezles. Dey ain't ketchin' no mo', is dey, boss?" 238 HIS SAYINGS. " Oh, no I suppose not." '"Ease ef dey is, youk'n des put my name down wid de migrashun niggers." XI. THE EMIGRANTS. WHEN Uncle Remus went down to the passenger depot one morning recently, the first sight that caught his eye was an old negro man, a woman, and two chil- dren sitting in the shade near the door of the baggage- room. One of the children was very young, and the quartet was altogether ragged and forlorn-looking. The sympathies of Uncle Remus were immediately aroused. He approached the group by forced marches,, and finally unburdened his curiosity : " Whar is you m'anderin' unter, pard ? " The old negro, who seemed to be rather suspicious,, looked at Uncle Remus coolly, and appeared to be con- sidering whether he should make any reply. Filially,, however, he stretched himself and said : "We er gwine down in de naberhoods er Tally- poosy, an' we ain't makin' no fuss 'bout it, nudder." " I disremember," said Uncle Remus, thoughtfully,. " whar Tallypoosy is." " Oh, hit's out yan," replied the old man, motion- ing his head as if it was just beyond the iron gates of THE EMIGRANTS. 239 the depot. "Hit's down in Alabam. When we git dar, maybe we'll go on twel we gits ter Massasip." " Is you got enny folks out dar ? " inquired Uncle Remus. " None dat I knows un." "An' youer takin' dis 'oman an' deze chillun out dar whar dey dunno nobody ? Whar's yo' perwisions ? " eying a chest with a rope around it. " Dem's our bed-cloze," the old negro ex- plained, noticing the glance of Uncle Kemus. "All de vittles what we got we e't 'fo' we started." " An' you speck ter retch dar safe an' soun' ? Whar's yo' ticket ? " " Ain't got none. De man say ez how dey'd pass us thoo. I gin a man a fi'-dollar bill 'fo' I lef ' Jones- boro, an' he sed dat settled it." " Lemme tell you dis," said Uncle Remus, straighten- ing up indignantly : " you go an' rob somebody an' git on de chain-gang, an' let de 'oman scratch 'roun' yer an' make 'er livin' ; but don't you git on dem kyars don't 240 HIS SAYINGS. you do it. Yo' bes' holt is de chain-gang. You kin make yo' livin' dar w'en you can't make it nowhars else. But don't you git on dem kyars. Ef you do, youer gone nigger. Ef you ain't got no money fer ter walk back wid, you better des b'il' yo' nes' right here. I'm a-talkin' wid de bark on. I done seed deze yer Arkin- saw emmygrants come lopein' back, an' some un 'em didn't have rags miff on 'em fer ter hide dere nakid- ness. You leave dat box right whar she is, an' let de 'oman take wun young un an' you take de udder wun, an' den you git in de middle er de big road an' pull out fer de place whar you come fum. I'm preachin' now." Those who watched say the quartet didn't take the XII. AS A MURDERER. UNCLE REMUS met a police officer recently. " You ain't hear talk er no dead nigger nowhar dis mawnin', is you, boss ? " asked the old man earnestly. " No," replied the policeman, reflectively. " No, I believe not. Have you heard of any ? " " 'Pears unter me dat I come mighty nigh gittin' some news 'bout dat size, an' dat's w'at I'm a huntin' fer. Bekaze ef dey er foun' a stray nigger layin' 'roun' loose, wid 'is bref gone, den I wanter go home an' git my AS A MURDERER. 241 brekf us, an' put on some clean cloze, an' 'liver myse'f up ter wunner deze yer jestesses er de peace, an' git a fa'r trial." " Why, have you killed anybody ? " " Dat's w'at's I'm a 'quirin' inter now, but I wouldn't be sustonished ef I ain't laid a nigger out some'rs on de subbubs. Hit's done got so it's agin de law fer ter bus' loose an' kill a nigger, ain't it, boss ? " " Well, I should say so. You don't mean to tell me that you have killed a colored man, do you ? " " I speck I is, boss. I speck I done gone an' done it dis time, sho'. Hit's bin sorter growin' on me, an' it come ter a head dis mawnin', less my name ain't Ke- mus, an' dat's w'at dey bin er callin' me sence I wuz ole er 'nuff fer ter scratch myse'f wid my lef han'." " Well, if you've killed a man, you'll have some fun, sure enough. How was it ? " " Hit wuz dis way, boss : I wuz layin' in my bed dis mawnin' sorter ruminatin' 'roun', when de fus news I know'd I year a fus 'mong de chickens, an' den my brissels riz. I done had lots er trubble wid dem chickens, an' w'en I years wun un um squall my ve'y shoes comes ontied. So I des sorter riz up an' retch fer my ole muskit, and den I crope out er de back do', an' w'atter you reckin I seed ? " " I couldn't say." " I seed de biggest, blackest nigger dat you ever laid eyes on. He shined like de paint on 'im was fresh. 34 242 HIS SAYINGS. He bed done grabbed fo'er my forwardes' pullets. I crope up nigh de do', an' hollered an' axed 'im how he wuz a gittin' on, an' den he broke, an' ez he broke I jammed de gun in de small er his back and banged He let a yell like forty yaller cats a courtin', an' den he broke. You ain't seed no nigger hump hisse'f like dat nigger. He tore down de well shelter and fo' pannils er fence, an' de groun' look like wunner deze yer harrycanes had lit dar and fanned up de yeath." " Why, I thought you killed him ? " HIS PRACTICAL VIEW OF THINGS. 243 "He bleedzed ter be dead, boss. Ain't I put de gun right on 'im ? Seem like I feel 'im give way w'en she went off." " Was the gun loaded ? " " Dat's w'at my ole 'oman say. She had de powder in dar, sho', but I disremember wedder I put de buck- shot in, er wedder I lef um out. Leas'ways, I'm gwineter call on wunner deze yer jestesses. So long, boss." XIII. HIS PRACTICAL VIEW OF THINGS. " BRER KEMUS, is you heern tell er deze doin's out yer in de udder eend er town ? " asked a colored deacon of the church the other day. " Wat doin's is dat, Brer Ab ? " " Deze yer signs an' wunders whar dat cullud lady died day 'fo' yistiddy. Mighty quare goin's on out dar, Brer Remus, sho's you bawn." " Sperrits ? " inquired Uncle Remus, sententiously. " Wuss'n dat, Brer Remus. Some say dat jedgment- day ain't fur off, an' de folks is flockin' 'roun' de house a hollerin' an' a shoutin' des like dey wuz in er re- vival. In de winder glass dar you kin see de flags a flyin', an' Jacob's lather is dar, an' dar's writin' on de pane w'at no man can't read leas' wise dey ain't none read it yit." 244 HIS SAYINGS. " Wat kinder racket is dis youer givin' un me now, Brer Ab ? " " I done bin dar, Brer Remus ; I done seed um wid bofe my eyes. Cullud lady what wuz intranced done woke up an' say dey ain't much time fer ter tarry. She say she meet er angel in de road, an' he p'inted straight fer de mornin' star, an' tell her fer ter prepar'. Hit look mighty cu'us, Brer Remus." ."Cum down ter dat, Brer Ab," said Uncle Remus, wiping his spectacles carefully, and readjusting them "cum down ter dat, an' dey ain't nuthin' dat ain't cu'us. I ain't no spishus nigger myse'f, but I 'spizes fer ter year dogs a howlin' an' squinch-owls havin' de ager out in de woods, an' w'en a bull goes a bellerin' by de house den my bones git cole an' my flesh commences fer ter creep ; but w'en it comes ter deze yer sines in de a'r an' deze yer sperrits in de woods, den I'm out den I'm done. I is, fer a fack. I bin livin' yer more'n seventy year, an' I year talk er niggers seein' ghos'es all times er night an' all times er day, but I ain't never THAT DECEITFUL JUG. 245 seed none yit ; an' deze yer flags an' Jacob's lathers, I ain't seed dem, nudder." " Dey er dar, Brer Kemus." " Hit's des like I tell you, Brer Ab. I ain't 'sputin' 'bout it, but I ain't seed um, an' I don't take no chances deze days on dat w'at I don't see, an' dat w'at I sees I got ter 'zamine mighty close. Lemme tell you dis, Brer Ab : don't you let deze sines onsettle you. Wen old man Gabrile toot his ho'n, he ain't gwinter hang no sine out in de winder-panes, an' when ole Fadder Jacob lets down dat lather er his'n you'll be mighty ap' fer ter hear de racket. An' don't you bodder wid jedgment-day. Jedgment-day is lierbul fer ter take keer un itse'f." " Dat's so, Brer Kemus." "Hit's bleedzed ter be so, Brer Ab. Hit don't bodder me. Hit's done got so now dat w'en I gotter pone er bread, an' a rasher er bacon, an' nuff grease fer ter make gravy, I ain't keerin' much w'edder f okes sees ghos'es er no." XIV. THAT DECEITFUL JUG. UNCLE REMUS was in good humor one evening recently when he dropped casually into the editorial room of "The Constitution," as has been his custom for the past year or two. He had a bag slung across 246 HIS SAYINGS. his shoulder, and in the bag was a jug. The presence of this humble but useful vessel in Uncle Remus's bag was made the occasion for several suggestive jokes at his expense by the members of the staff, but the old man's good humor was proof against all insinuations. " Dat ar jug's bin ter wah, mon. Hit's wunner deze yer ole timers. I got dat jug down dar in Putmon County w'en Mars 'Lisha Ferryman wuz a young man, an' now he's done growed up, an' got ole an' died, an' his chilluns is growed up an' dey kin count dere gran'- chilluns, an' yit dar's dat jug des ez lively an' ez lierbul fer ter kick up devilment ez w'at she wuz w'en she come fum de foundry." " That's the trouble," said one of the young men. " That's the reason w'd like to know what's in it now." "Now youer gittin' on ma' shy groun'," replied Uncle Remus. " Dat's de p'int. Dat's w'at make me say w'at I duz. I bin knowin' dat jug now gwine on sixty-fi' year, an' de jug w'at's more seetf ul dan dat jug ain't on de topside er de worrul. Dar she sets," con- tinued the old man, gazing at it reflectively, " dar she sets dez ez natchul ez er ambertype, an' yit whar's de man w'at kin tell w'at kinder confab she's a gwineter carry on w'en dat corn-cob is snatched outen 'er mouf ? Dat jug is mighty seetf ul, mon." " Well, it don't deceive any of us up here," re- marked the agricultural editor, dryly. "We've seen jugs before." THAT DECEITFUL JUG. 247 " I boun' you is, boss ; I boun' you is. But you ain't seed no seetful jug like dat. Dar she sets a bellyin' out an' lookin' mighty fat an' full, an' yit she'd set dar a bellyin' out ef dere wuzent nuthin' but win' under dat stopper. You knows dat she ain't got no aigs in her, ner no bacon, ner no grits, ner no termar- tusses, ner no shellotes, an' dat's 'bout all you duz know. Dog my cats ef de seetf ulness er dat jug don't git away wid me," continued Uncle Remus, with a chuckle. " I wuz comin' 'cross de bridge des now, an r Brer John Henry seed me wid de bag slung onter my back, an' de jug in it, an' he ups an' sez, sezee : " ' Heyo, Brer Remus, ain't it gittin' late for water- millions ? ' " Hit wuz de seetfulness er dat jug. If Brer John Henry know'd de color er dat watermillion, I speck he'd snatch me up 'fo' de confunce. I 'clar' ter grashus ef dat jug ain't a caution ! " " I suppose it's full of molasses now," remarked one of the young men, sarcastically. " Hear dat ! " exclaimed Uncle Kemus, triumphantly "hear dat! Wat I tell you? I sed dat jug wuz seetful, an' I sticks to it. I bin knowin' dat " " What has it got in it ? " broke in some one ; " molasses, kerosene, or train-oil ? " " Well, I lay she's loaded, boss. I ain't shuk her up sence I drapt in, but I lay she's loaded." " Yes," said the agricultural editor, " and it's the 24:8 HIS SAYINGS. meanest bug-juice in town regular sorghum skim- mings." " Dat's needer yer ner dar," responded Uncle Ke- mus. " Po' fokes better be fixin' up for Chrismus now w'ile rashuns is cheap. Dat's me. Wen I year Miss Sally gwine 'bout de house w'isslin' ' Wen I k'n Read my Titles Cler ' an' w'en I see de martins swawmin' atter sundown an' w'en I year de peckerwoods con- fabbin' tergedder dese moonshiny nights in my een' er town den I knows de hot wedder's a breakin' up, an' I knows it's 'bout time fer po' fokes fer ter be rastlin' 'roun' and huntin' up dere rashuns. Dat's me, up an' down." " Well, we are satisfied. Better go and hire a hall," remarked the sporting editor, with a yawn. " If you are engaged in a talking match you have won the money. Blanket him somebody, and take him to the stable." " An' w'at's mo'," continued the old man, scorning to notice the insinuation, " dough I year Miss Sally w'isslin', an' de peckerwoods a chatterin', I ain't seein' none er deze yer loafin' niggers fixin' up fer ter 'migrate. Dey kin holler Kansas all 'roun' de naber- hood, but ceppin' a man come 'long an' spell it wid greenbacks, he don't ketch none er deze yer town nig- gers. You year me, dey ain't gwine." "Stand him up on the table," said the sporting editor ; " give him room." THAT DECEITFUL JUG. 249 " Better go down yer ter de calaboose, an' git some news fer ter print," said Uncle Remus, with a touch of irony in his tone. " Some new nigger mighter broke inter jail." "You say the darkeys are not going to emigrate this year ? " inquired the agricultural editor, who is interested in these things. " Shoo ! dat dey ain't ! I done seed an' I knows." " Well, how do you know ? " " How you tell w'en crow gwineter light ? Niggers bin prom'nadin' by my house all dis summer, holdin' dere heads high up an' de w'ites er dere* eyeballs shinin' in de sun. Dey wuz too bigitty fer ter look over de gyardin' palin's. 'Long 'bout den de wedder wuz fetchin' de nat'al sperrits er turkentime outen de pine- trees an' de groun' wuz fa'rly smokin' wid de hot- Now dat it's gittin' sorter airish in de mornin's, dey don't 'pear like de same niggers. Dey done got so dey'll look over in de yard, an' nex' news you know 35 250 HIS SAYINGS. dey '11 be tryin' fer ter scrape up 'quaintence wid de dog. Wen dey passes now dey looks at de chicken- coop an' at de tater-patch. Wen you see niggers gittin' dat familious, you kin 'pen' on dere campin' wid you de ballunce er de season. Day 'fo' yistiddy I kotch one un um lookin' over de fence at my shoats, an' I. sez, sez I : " ' Duz you wanter purchis dem hogs ? ' " ' Oh, no,' sezee, ' I wuz des lookin' at dere p'ints.' "'Well, dey ain't p'intin' yo' way,' sez I, 'an', fuddermo', ef you don't bodder 'longer dem hogs dey ain't gwineter clime outer dat pen an' 'tack you, nudder,' sez I. "An' I boun'," continued Uncle Kemus, driving the corn-cob stopper a little tighter in his deceitful jug and gathering up his bag " an' I boun' dat my ole muskit'll go off 'tween me an' dat same nigger yit, an' he'll be at de bad een', an' dis seetful jug'll 'fuse ter go ter de funer'l." xv. THE FLORIDA WATERMELON. "LooK yer, boy," said Uncle Kemus yesterday, stopping near the railroad crossing on Whitehall Street, and gazing ferociously at a small colored youth ; " look yer, boy, I'll lay you out flat ef you come flingin' yo' watermillion rimes under my foot you watch ef I "An' I sot down an' wrop myse'f roun' de whole blessid chunk." THE FLORIDA WATERMELON. 251 don't. You k'n play yo' pranks on deze yer w'ite fokes, but w'en you come a cuttin' up yo' capers roun' me you'll Ian' right in de middle uv er spell er sickness now you mine w'at I tell you. An' I ain't gwine fer ter put up wid none er yo' sassness nudder let 'lone flingin' watermillion rimes whar I kin git mixt up wid um. I done bad nuff watermillions yistiddy an' de day befo'. 5 ' " How was tbat, Uncle Remus ? " asked a gentle- man standing near. "Hit wuz sorter like dis, boss. Las' Chuseday, Mars Jobn he fotch home two er deze yer Flurridy watermillions, an him an' Miss Sally sot down fer ter eat um. Mars John an' Miss Sally ain't got nuthin' dat's too good fer me, an' de fus news I know'd Miss Sally wuz a hollerin' fer Remus. I done smelt de watermillion on de a'r, an' I ain't got no better sense dan fer ter go w'en I years w'ite fokes a hollerin' I larnt dat w'en I wa'n't so high. Leas'ways I galloped up ter de back po'ch, an' dar sot de watermillions dez ez natchul ez ef dey'd er bin raised on de ole Spivey place in Putmon County. Den Miss Sally, she cut me off er slishe wunner deze yer ongodly slishes, big ez yo' hat, an' I sot down on de steps an' wrop myse'f roun' de whole blessid chunk, 'cepin' de rime." Uncle Remus paused and laid his hand upon his stomach as if feeling for something. " Well, old man, what then ? " 252 HIS SAYINGS. " Dat's w'at I'm a gittin' at, boss," said Uncle Hemus, smiling a feeble smile. " I santered roun' 'bout er half nour, an' den I begin fer ter feel sorter squeemish sorter like I done bin an' swoller'd 'bout fo' pouu's off'n de ruff een' uv er scantlin'. Look like ter me dat I wuz gwineter be sick, an' den - hit look like I wuzent. Bimeby a little pain showed 'is head an' sorter in'an- dered roun' like he wuz a lookin' fer a good place fer ter ketch holt, an' den a great big pain jump up an' take atter de little one an' chase 'im 'roun' an' 'roun', an' he mus' er kotch 'im, kaze bimeby de big pain retch down an' grab dis yer lef leg so an' haul 'im up, an' den he retch down an' grab de udder one an' pull him up, an' den de wah begun, sho miff. Fer mighty nigh fo' hours dey kep' up dat racket, an' des tz soon ez a little pain 'ud jump up de big un 'ud light enter it an' gobble it up, an' den de big un 'ud go sailin' roun' huntin' fer mo'. Some fokes is mighty cu'us, dough. Nex' mornin' I hear Miss Sally a laugh- UNCLE REMUS PREACHES TO A CONVERT. 253 in', an' singin' an' a w'isslin' des like dey want no water-millions raise in Flurridy. But somebody better pen dis yer nigger boy up w'en I'm on de town I kin tell you dat." XVI. UNCLE REMUS PREACHES TO A CONVERT. " DEY tells me you done jine de chu'ch," said Uncle Remus to Pegleg Charley. " Yes, sir," responded Charley, gravely, " dat's so." " Well, I'm mighty glad er dat," remarked Uncle Remus, with unction. " It's 'bout time dat I wuz spectin' fer ter hear un you in de chain-gang, an', stidder dat, hit's de chu'ch. Well, dey ain't no tellin' deze days whar a nigger's gwineter Ian'." " Yes," responded Charley, straightening himself up and speaking in a dignified tone, " yes, I'm fixin' to do better. I'm preparin' fer to shake worldliness. I'm done quit so'shatin' wid deze w'ite town boys. Dey've been a goin' back on me too rapidly here lately, an' now I'm a goin' back on dem." " Well, ef you done had de speunce un it, I'm mighty glad. Ef you got 'lijjun, you better hole on to it 'twell de las' day in de mornin'. Hit's mighty good fer ter kyar 'roun' wid you in de day time an' likewise in de night time. Hit'll pay you mo' dan 254 HIS SAYINGS. politics, an' ef you stan's up like you oughter, hit'll las' longer dan a bone-fellum. But you wanter have one er deze yer ole-time grips, an' you des gotter shet yo' eyes an' swing on like wiinner deze yer bull-tarrier dogs." " Oh, I'm goin' to stick, Uncle Remus. You km put your money on dat. Deze town boys can't play no more uv dere games on me. I'm fixed. Can't you lend me a dime, Uncle Remus, to buy me a pie? I'm dat hongry dat my stomach is gittin' ready to go in nio'nin'." Uncle Remus eyed Charley curi- ously a moment, while the latter looked quietly at his timber toe. Finally, the old man sighed and spoke : " How long is you bin in de chu'ch, son ? " "Mighty near a week," re- plied Charley. " Well, lemme tell you dis, now, 'fo' you go enny fudder. You ain't bin in dar long nuff fer ter go 'roun' takin up conterbutions. Wait ontwell you gits sorter seasoned like, an' den I'll hunt 'roun' in my cloze an' see ef I can't run out a thrip er two fer you. But don't you levy taxes too early." AS TO EDUCATION. 255- Charley laughed, and said he would let the old man off if he would treat to a watermelon. AS TO EDUCATION. As Uncle Kemus came up Whitehall Street recently, he met a little colored boy carrying a slate and a num- ber of books. Some words passed between them, but their exact purport will probably never be known. They were unpleasant, for the attention of a wandering policeman was called to the matter by hearing the old man bawl out : " Don't you come f oolin' longer me, nigger. Youer flippin' yo' sass at de wrong color. You k'n go roun' yer an' sass deze w'ite people, an' maybe dey'll stan' it, but w'en you come a slingin' yo' jaw at a man w'at wuz gray w'en de fahmin' days gin out, you better go an' git yo' hide greased." " What's the matter, old man ? " asked a sympathiz- ing policeman. , "Nothin', boss, 'ceppin I ain't gwineter hav' no nigger chillun a hoopin' an' a hollerin' at me w'en I'm gwine 'long de streets." " Oh, well, school-children you know how they are." " Dat's w'at make I say w'at I duz. Dey better be 256 HI S SAYINGS. home pickin' up chips. Wat a nigger gwineter I'arn outen books? I kin take a bar'l stave an' fling mo' sense inter a nigger in one minnit dan all de school-houses betwixt dis en de State er Midgigin. Don't talk, honey! Wid one bar'l stave I kin fa'rly lif de vail er ignunce." " Then you don't believe in educa- tion?" " Hit's de ruinashun er dis country. Look at my gal. De ole 'oman sont 'er ter school las' year, an' now we dassent hardly ax 'er fer ter kyar de washin' home. She done got beyant 'er bizness. I ain't larnt nuthin' in books, 'en yit I kin count all de money I gits. No use talkin', boss. Put a spellin'-book in a nigger's han's, en right den en dar' you loozes a plow-hand. I done had de speunce un it." XVIII. A TEMPERANCE REFORMER. come Uncle Eemus," said a well-dressed negro, who was standing on the sidewalk near James's bank recently, talking to a crowd of barbers. " Yer come Uncle Kemus. I boun' he'll sign it," A TEMPERANCE REFORMER. 257 "You'll fling yo' money away ef you bet on it," responded Uncle Remus. "I ain't turnin' nothin' loose on chu'ch 'scriptions. I wants money right now fer ter git a pint er meal." " 'Tain't dat" " An' I ain't heppin fer ter berry nobody. Much's I kin do ter keep de bref in my own body." " 'Tain't dat, nudder." " An' I ain't puttin' my han' ter no reckommends. I'm fear'd fer ter say a perlite wud 'bout myse'f, an' I des know I ain't gwine 'roun' flatter'n up deze udder niggers." " An' 'tain't dat," responded the darkey, who held a paper in his hand. " We er gittin' up a Good Tempel- er's lodge, an' we like ter git yo' name." " Eh-eh, honey ! I done see. too much er dis nigger tempunce. Dey stan' up mighty squar' ontwell dere dues commence ter cramp um, an' dey don't stan' de racket wuf a durn. 'No longer'n yistiddy I seed one er de head men er one er dese Tempeler's s'cieties totin' water fer a bar-room. He had de water in a bucket, but dey ain't no tellin' how much red licker he wuz a totin'. G'long, chile jine yo' s'ciety an' be good ter yo'se'f. 258 HIS SAYINGS. I'm a gittin' too ole. Gimme th'ee er fo' drams endurin' er de day, an' I'm mighty nigh ez good a tempunce man ez de next un. I got ter scuffle fer eump'n t'eat." AS A WEATHER PROPHET. UNCLE REMUS was enlightening a crowd of negroes at the car-shed yesterday. " Dar ain't nuthin'," said the old man, shaking his head pensively, " dat ain't got no change wrote on it. Dar ain't nothin dat ain't spotted befo' hit begins fer ter commence. We all speunces dat p'over- dence w'at lifts us up fum one place an' sets us down in de udder. Hit's continerly a movin' an' a movin'." "Dat'sso!" "Youer talkin' now ! " came from several of his hearers. " I year Miss Sally readin' dis mawnin," continued the old man, " dat a man wuz comin' down yer fer ter take keer er de wedder wunner deze yer Euro mens w'at goes 'roun' a puttin' up an' pullin' down." " W'at he gwine do 'roun' yer ? " asked one. AS A WEATHER PROPHET. 259 "He's a gwineter regelate de wedder," replied Uncle Kemus, sententiously. " He's a gwineter fix hit up so dat dere won't be so much worriment 'mong de w'ite fokes 'bout de kinder wedder w'at falls to dere lot." " He gwine dish em up," suggested one of the older ones, " like man dish out sugar." " No," answered Uncle Remus, mopping his benign features with a very large and very red bandana. " He's a gwineter fix um better'n dat. He's a gwineter fix um up so you kin have any kinder wedder w'at you want widout totin' her home." " How's dat ? " asked some one. " Hit's dis way," said the old man, thoughtfully. " In co'se you knows w'at kinder wedder you wants. Well, den, w'en de man comes 'long, w'ich Miss Sally say he will, you des gotter go up dar, pick out yo' wed- der an' dere'll be a clock sot fer ter suit yo' case, an' w'en you git home, dere'll be yo' wedder a settin' out in de yard waitin' fer you. I wish he wuz yer now," the old man continued. " I'd take a p'ar er frosts in mine, ef I kotched cold fer it. Dat's me ! " There were various exclamations of assent, and the old man went on his way singing, " Don't you Grieve Atter Me." 260 HIS SAYINGS. XX. THE OLD MAN'S TROUBLES. " WHAT makes you look so lonesome, Brer Eeinus ? " asked a well-dressed negro, as the old man came shuf- fling down the street by James's corner yesterday. " Youer mighty right, I'm lonesome, Brer John Henry. Wen a ole nigger like me is gotter paddle de canoe an' do de fishin' at de same time, an' w'en you bleedzd ter ketch de fish an' dassent turn de paddle loose fer ter bait de hook, den 1 tell you, Brer John, youer right whar de mink had de goslin'. Mars John and Miss Sally, dey done bin gone down unto Putmon County fer ter see dere kin- folks mighty nigh fo' days, an' you better b'leeve I done bin had ter scratch 'roun' mighty lively fer ter make de rashuns run out even." " I wuz at yo' house las' night, Brer Kemus," re- marked Brer John Henry, " but I couldn't roust you outer bed." " Hit was de unseasonableness er de hour, I speck," said Uncle Remus, dryly. " Tears unto me dat you all chu'ch deacons settin' up mighty late deze cole nights. THE OLD MAN'S TROUBLES. 261 You'll be slippin' round arter hours some time er nud- der, an' you'll slip bodaciously inter de calaboose. You mine w'at I tell you." " It's mighty cole wedder," said Brer John Henry, evidently wishing to change the subject. "Cole!" exclaimed Uncle Kemus; "hit got pas' cole on de quarter stretch. You oughter come to my house night 'fo' las'. Den you'd a foun' me 'live an' kickin'." "How's dat?" " Well, I tell you, Brer John Henry, de cole wuz so cole, an' de kiver wuz so light, dat I thunk I'd make a raid on Mars John's shingle pile, an' out I goes an' totes in a whole armful. Den I gits under de kiver an' tells my ole 'oman fer ter lay 'em onto me like she was roofin' a house. Bimeby she crawls in, an' de shingles w'at she put on her side fer ter kiver wid, dey all drap off on de flo'. Den up I gits an' piles 'em on agin, an' w'en I gits in bed my shingles draps off, an' dat's de way it wuz de whole blessid night. Fus' it wuz me up an' den de ole 'oman, an' it kep' us pow'ful warm, too, dat kinder exercise. Oh, you oughter drapt roun' 'bout dat time, Brer John Henry. You'd a year'd sho' nuff cussin' ! " " You don't tell me, Brer Remus ! " " My ole 'oman say de Ole Boy wouldn't a foun' a riper nigger, ef he wer' ter scour de country fum Fer- ginny ter de Alabam ! " 262 HIS SAYINGS. XXI. THE FOURTH OF JULY. UNCLE KEMUS made his appearance recently with his right arm in a sling and his head bandaged to that extent that it looked like the stick made to accompany the Centennial bass-drum. The old man evidently ex- pected an attack all around, for he was unusually quiet, and fumbled in his pockets in an embarrassed manner. He was not mistaken. The agricultural editor was the first to open fire : " Well, you old villain ! what have you been up to now?" " It is really singular," remarked a commencement orator, " that not even an ordinary holiday a holiday, it seems to me, that ought to arouse all the latent in- stincts of patriotism in the bosom of American citizens can occur without embroiling some of our most valu- able citizens. It is really singular to me that such a day should be devoted by a certain class of our popula- tion to broils and fisticuffs." This fine moral sentiment, which was altogether an impromptu utterance, and which was delivered with the air of one who addresses a vast but invisible audi- ence of young ladies in white dresses and blue sashes, seemed to add to the embarrassment of Uncle Kemus, and at the same time to make an explanation necessary. THE FOURTH OF JULY. 263 " Dey ain't none er you young w'ite men never had no 'casion fer ter strike up wid one er deze Mobile nig- gers ? " asked Uncle Reinus. " 'Kaze ef you iz, den you knows wliarbouts de devilment come in. Show me a Mobile nigger," continued the old man, " an' I'll show you a nigger dat's marked for de chain-gang. Hit may be de fote er de fif er July, er hit may be de twelf er Jinawerry, but w'en a Mobile nigger gits in my naber- hood right den an' dar trubble sails in an' 'gages bode fer de season. I speck I'm ez fon' er deze Nunited States ez de nex' man w'at knows dat de Euro is busted up ; but long ez Eemus kin stan' on his nine legs no Mobile nigger can't flip inter dis town longer noWes' P'int 'schushun an' boss 'roun' 'mong de cullud fokes. Dat's me, up an' down, an' I boun' dere's a nig- ger some'rs on de road dis blessid day dat's got dis put away in his 'membunce." "How did he happen to get you down and maul you in this startling manner ? " asked the commence- ment orator, with a tone of exaggerated sympathy in his voice. " Maul who ? " exclaimed Uncle Eemus, indignantly. "Maul who? Boss, de nigger dat mauled me ain't bornded yit, an' dey er got ter have anudder war 'fo one is bornded." " Well, what was the trouble ? " " Hit wuz sorter dis way, boss. I wuz stannin' down dere by Mars John Jeems's bank, chattin' wid Sis 264 HIS SAYINGS. Tempy, w'ich I ain't seed 'er befo' now gwine on seven year, an' watchin' de folks trompin' by, w'en one er deze yer slick-lookin' niggers, wid a bee-gum hat an' a brass watch ez big ez de head uv a beer-bar'l, coine 'long an' bresh up agin me so. Dere wuz two "un um, an' dey went 'long gigglin' an' laffin' like a nes'ful ei jailer - hammers. Bimeby dey come 'long agin an' de smart Ellick brush up by me once mo'. Den I say to myse'f, ' I lay I fetch you ef you gimme anudder invite.' An', sho' 'nuff, yer he come agin, an' dis time he rub a piece er watermillion rime under my lef year." "What did you do?" " Me ? I'm a mighty long-sufferin' nigger, but he hadn't no mo'n totch me 'fo' I flung dese yer bones in his face." Here Uncle Remus held up his damaged hand triumphantly. " I sorter sprained my han', boss, but dog my cats if I don't b'leeve I spattered de nig- ger's eyeballs on de groun', and w'en he riz his count'- THE FOURTH OF JULY. 265 nence look fresh like beef-haslett. I look mighty spindlin' an' puny now, don't I, boss ? " inquired the old man, with great apparent earnestness. " Bather." ""Well, you des oughter see me git my Affikin up. Dey useter call me er bad nigger long 'fo' de war, an' hit looks like ter me dat I gits wuss an' wuss. Brer John Henry say dat I oughter supdue my rashfulness, an' I don't 'spute it, but tu'n a Mobile nigger loose in dis town, fote er July or no fote er July, an', me er him, one is got ter Ian' in jail. Hit's proned inter me." (SO) THE END. 37 A NOVEL THAT IS ALL TRUE. Bethany : A Story of the Old South. By THOMAS E. WATSON, author of "The Life and Times of Thomas Jefferson," etc. Illustrated. I2mo. Ornamental Cloth, $1.50. " Few writers of the present day have reached the deserved literary emi- nence and prominence that has been achieved by Thomas E. Watson, Presi- dential candidate of the People's Party, author of ' The Life and Times of Thomas Jefferson' and other important historical works. Mr. Watson is a student, historian, and biographer, as well as a finished orator. It comes in the nature of a pleasant surprise, therefore, to find that this brilliant author has turned his attention to fiction. Probably no writer of the present day brings just such broad knowledge, scholarly attainments, and intimate style into the composition of his books as does Mr. Watson. He is particularly rified to bring to a successful termination any literary work he may attempt. Bethany ' he tells in his brilliant style of the old South as he knew it in his boyhood. This work is only in part fiction. Mr. Watson has succeeded admirably in picturing the life of the people of Georgia during the anti- slavery controversy and the war itself. In doing this he has written a book that throbs with human emotions on every page and pulsates with strong, virile life in every sentence. Mr. Watson has written ' Bethany ' from the heart as well as from the head. With broad comprehension and unfailing accuracy he has drawn characters and depicted incidents which deserve to be considered as models of the people." "The Hon. Thomas E. Watson of Georgia is a man of many parts. Above all he is still able to learn, as those who will compare the second part of his ' Story of France ' with the first may easily see. In ' Bethany : A Story of the Old South,' he plunges into romance, it seems to us with complete suc- cess. The story is told directly, clearly, in excellent English, and is as vivid a Dicture of a Southern family during the war as anyone could wish for." New York Sun. "As a ' true picture of the times and the people,' as of war and its horrors, the book will be welcomed by both North and South. Clear, simple, occa- sionally abrupt, the story is always subordinated to the historical facts that lie back of it. Yet it cannot be gainsaid that each illumines the other, nor that 4 Bethany ' possesses distinct value as a just and genuine contribution to the literature of the present ' Southern revival.' " Chicago Record- Herald. "The love-story of the young soldier and his faithful sweetheart is a per- fect idyll of old plantation life, and its sad ending fits properly into the tragedy of that fearful war." St. Louis Globe-Democrat. D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. UNLIKE ANY OTHER BOOK. A Virginia Girl in the Civil War. Being the Authentic Experiences of a Confederate Major's Wife who followed her Husband into Camp at the Outbreak of the War. Dined and Supped with General J. E. B. Stuart, ran the Blockade to Baltimore, and was in Richmond when it was Evacuated. Collected and edited by MYRTA LOCKE rx AVARY. izmo. Cloth, $1.25 net ; postage additional. " The people described are gentlefolk to the back-bone, and the reader must be a hard-hearted cynic if ht- does not fall in love with the ingenuous and delightful girl who tells the story." New York Sun. " The narrative is one that both interests and charms. The beginning of the' end of the long and desperate struggle is unusually well told, and how the survivors lived during the last days of the fading Confederacy forms a vivid picture of those distressful times." Baltimore Herald. "The style of the narrative is attractively informal and chatty. Its pathos is that of simplicity. It throws upon a cruel period of our national career a side-light, bringing out tender and softening interests too little visi- ble in the pages of formal history." New York World. " This is a tale that will appeal to every Southern man and woman, and can not fail to be of interest to every reader. It is as fresh and vivacious, even in dealing with dark days, as the young soul that underwent the hard- ships of a most cruel we." Louisville Courier-Journal . " The narrative is not formal, is often fragmentary, and is always warmly human. . . . There are scenes among the dead and wounded, but as one winks back a tear the next page presents a negro commanded to mount a strange mule in midstream, at the injustice of which he strongly protests." New York Telegram. ", Taken at this time, when the years have buried all resentment, dulled all sorrows, and brought new generations to the scenes, a work of this kind can not fail of value just as it can not fail in interest. Official history moves with two great strides to permit of the smaller, more intimate events ; fiction lacks the realistic, powerful appeal of actuality ; such works as this must be depended upon to fill in the unoccupied interstices, to show us just what were the lives of those who were in this conflict or who lived in the midst of it without being able actively to participate in it. And of this type ' A Vir- ginia Girl in the Civil War' is a truly admirable example." Philadelphia Record. D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. VIVID, MOVING, SYMPATHETIC HUMOROUS. A Diary from Dixie. By MARY BOYKIN CHESNUT. Being her Diary from November, 1861, to August, 1865. Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary. Illustrated. 8vo. Orna- mental Cloth, $2.50 net; postage additional. Mrs. Chesnut was the most brilliant woman that the South has ever produced, and the charm of her writing is such as to make all Southerners proud and all Northerners envious. She was the wife of James Chesnut, Jr., who was United States Senator from South Carolina from 1859 to 1861, and acted as an aid to President Jefferson Davis, and was subsequently a Brigadier-Gen- eral in the Confederate Army. Thus it was that she was intimately acquainted with all the foremost men in the Southern cause. " In this diary is preserved the most moving and vivid record of the South- ern Confederacy of which we have any knowledge. It is a piece of social history of inestimable value. It interprets to posterity the spirit in which the Southerners entered upon and struggled through the war that ruined them. It paints poignantly but with simplicity the wreck of that old world which had so much about it that was beautiful and noble as well as evil. Students of American life have often smiled, and with reason, at the stilted and extrava- gant fashion in which the Southern woman had been described south of Mason and Dixon's line the unconscious self-revelations of Mary Chesnut explain, if they do not justify, such extravagance. For here, we cannot but believe, is a creature of a fine type, a ' very woman,' a very Beatrice, frank, impetuous, loving, full of sympathy, full of humor. Like her prototype, she had preju- dices, and she knew little of the Northern people she criticised so severely ; but there is less bitterness in these pages than we might have expected. Per- haps the editors have seen to that. However this may be they have done nothing to injure the writer's own nervous, unconventional style a style breathing character and temperament as the flower breathes fragrance." New York Tribune, "It is written straight from the heart, and with a natural grace of style that no amount of polishing could have imparted." Chicago Record-Herald. "The editors are to be congratulated ; it is not every day that one comes on such material as this long-hidden diary." Louisville Evening Post. " It is a book that would have delighted Charles Lamb." Houston Chronicle. D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. THE AUTHENTIC LIFE OF LINCOLN. Abraham Lincoln: The True Story of a Great Life. By WILLIAM H. HERNDON and JESSE W. WEIK. With numerous Illustrations. New and revised edition, with an Introduction by Horace White. In two volumes. i2mo. Cloth, $3.00. This is probably the most intimate life of Lincoln ever written. The book, by Lincoln's law-partner, William H. Herndon, and his friend Jesse W. Weik, shows us Lincoln the man. It is a true picture of his surround- ings and influences and acts. It is not an attempt to construct a political history, with Lincoln often in the background, nor is it an effort to apotheo- size the American who stands first in our history next to Washington. The writers knew Lincoln intimately. Their book is the result of unreserved association ; hence, it has taken rank as the best and most illuminating study of Lincoln's character and personality. " Truly, they who wish to know Lincoln as he really was must read the biog- raphy by his friend and law-partner, W. H. Herndon. This book was imperatively needed to brush aside the rank growth of myth and legend which was threatening to hide the real lineaments of Lincoln from the eyes of posterity. . . . There is no doubt about the faithfulness of Mr. Herndon's delineation. The marks of unflinch- ing veracity are patent in every line." New York Sun. "The three portraits of Lincoln are the best that exist ; and not the least char- acteristic of these, the Lincoln of the Douglas debates, has never before been engraved. . . . Herndon's narrative gives, as nothing else is likely to give, the material from which we may form a true picture of the man from infancy to matu- rity." The Nation. " Mr. Herndon is naturally a very direct writer, and he has been industrious in gathering material. Whether an incident happened before or behind the scenes, is all the same to him. He gives it without artifice or apology. He describes the life of his friend Lincoln just as he saw it." Cincinnati Commercial Gazette. " A remarkable piece of literary achievement remarkable alike for its fidelity to facts, its fulness of details, its constructive skill, and its literary charm." New York Timet. " It will always remain the authentic life of Abraham Lincoln." Chicago Herald. Lincoln in Story. $ W The Life of the Martyr President told in Authenticated Anecdotes. Edited by SILAS G. PRATT. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, 75 cents net ; postage, 9 cents additional. " An excellent compilation on a subject of which the American people never grow tired." Boston Transcript. "A valuable and exceedingly interesting addition to Lincoln literature." Brooklyn Standard-Union. D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. CAUFORNU AtiMINIV 09 OCT.]? 45 ^mi APR 15 1936 1V 10 DEC -6 s gl\ <2 JWr ^ ,_ . )CTl8i|88 * L| ' ^ JO^ r I linn mi 111 NNII ii INI L 006 130 890 4 % SV-v-*^ k j 2 3 ? g 1 ? J5 I 1 1 3 S % iWWfr ^[ \ i II ^i r\F.rAIIFAD<, ^uc