Nights with Uncle Remus (49 page)

“Somebody bleedz to take keer er dat ole nigger, an' I dunner who gwine ter do it ef I don't. Somebody bleedz ter look atter 'im. Good win' come 'long hit 'ud in about blow 'im 'way ef dey want somebody close 'roun' fer ter take keer un 'im. Let 'lone dat, I aint gwineter have dat ole nigger man f'ever 'n 'ternally trottin' atter me. I tell you de Lord's trufe, Unk Remus,” continued 'Tildy, growing confidential, “I aint had no peace er min' sence dat ole nigger man come on dis place. He des bin a pacin' at my heels de whole blessed time, an' I bleedz ter marry 'im fer git rid un 'im.”

“Well,” said Uncle Remus, “hit don't s'prize me. You marry en den youer des lak Brer Fox wid he bag. You know w'at you put in it, but you dunner w'at you got in it.”

'Tildy flounced out without waiting for an explanation, but the mention of Brother Fox attracted the attention of the little boy, and he wanted to know what was in the bag, how it came to be there, and all about it.

“Now, den,” said Uncle Remus, “hit's a tale, en a mighty long tale at dat, but I'll des hatter cut it short, kaze termorrer night you'll wanter be a-settin' up lis'nen at de kyar'n's on er dem ar niggers, w'ich I b'leeve in my soul dey done los' all de sense dey ever bin bornded wid.

“One time Brer Fox wuz gwine on down de big road, en he look ahead en he see ole Brer Tarrypin makin' he way on todes home. Brer Fox 'low dis a mighty good time fer ter nab ole Brer Tarrypin, en no sooner is he thunk it dan he put out back home, w'ich 'twan't but a little ways, en he git 'im a bag. He come back, he did, en he run up behime ole Brer Tarrypin en flip 'im in de bag en sling de bag 'cross he back en go gallin-up back home.

“Brer Tarrypin, he holler, but 'taint do no good; he rip en he r'ar, but 'taint do no good. Brer Fox des keep on a-gwine, en 'twan't long 'fo' he had ole Brer Tarrypin slung up in de cornder in de bag, en de bag tied up hard en fas'.

“But w'iles all dis gwine on,” exclaimed Uncle Remus, employing the tone and manner of some country preacher he had heard, “whar wuz ole Brer Rabbit? Yasser—dats it, whar wuz he? En mo'n dat, w'at you speck he 'uz doin' en whar you reckon he wer' gwine? Dat's de way ter talk it; whar'bouts wuz he?”

The old man brought his right hand down upon his knee with a thump that jarred the tin-plate and cups on the mantel-shelf, and then looked around with a severe frown to see what the chairs and the work-bench, and the walls and the rafters, had to say in response to his remarkable argument. He sat thus in a waiting attitude a moment, and then, finding that no response came from anything or anybody, his brow gradually cleared, and a smile of mingled pride and satisfaction spread over his face, as he continued in a more natural tone:

“Youk'n b'leeve me er not b'leeve des ez youer min' ter, but dat ar long-year creetur—dat ar hoppity-skippity—dat ar up-en-down-en-sailin'-'roun' Brer Rabbit, w'ich you bin year me call he name 'fo' dis, he want so mighty fur off w'iles Brer Fox gwine 'long wid dat ar bag slung 'cross he back. Let 'lone dat, Brer Rabbit uz settin' right dar in de bushes by de side er de road, en w'ence he see Brer Fox go trottin' by, he ax hisse'f w'at is it dat creeter got in dat ar bag.

“He ax hisse'f, he did, but he dunno. He wunder en he wunder, yit de mo' he wunder de mo' he dunno. Brer Fox, he go trottin' by, en Brer Rabbit, he sot in de bushes en wunder. Bimeby he 'low ter hisse'f, he did, dat Brer Fox aint got no business fer ter be trottin' 'long down de road, totin' doin's w'ich yuther folks dunner w'at dey is, en he 'low dat dey won't be no great harm done ef he take atter Brer Fox en fine out w'at he got in dat ar bag.

“Wid dat, Brer Rabbit, he put out. He aint got no bag fer ter tote, en he pick up he foots mighty peart. Mo'n dat, he tuck'n tuck a nigh-cut, en by de time Brer Fox git home, Brer Rabbit done had time fer ter go roun' by de watermillion-patch en do some er he devilment, en den atter dat he tuck'n sot down in de bushes whar he kin see Brer Fox w'en he come home.

“Bimeby yer come Brer Fox wid de bag slung 'cross he back. He onlatch de do', he did, en he go in en sling Brer Tarrypin down in de cornder, en set down front er de h'ath fer ter res' hisse'f.”

Here Uncle Remus paused to laugh in anticipation of what was to follow.

“Brer Fox aint mo'n lit he pipe,” the old man continued, after a tantalizing pause, “ 'fo' Brer Rabbit stick he head in de do' en holler:

“‘Brer Fox! O Brer Fox! You better take yo' walkin'-cane en run down yan. Comin' 'long des now I year a mighty fuss, en I look 'roun' en dar wuz a whole passel er folks in yo' watermillion-patch des a tromplin' 'roun' en a t'arin' down. I holler'd at um, but dey aint pay no 'tention ter little man lak I is. Make 'a'se, Brer Fox! make a'se! Git yo' cane en run down dar. I'd go wid you myse'f, but my ole 'oman ailin' en I bleedz ter be makin' my way todes home. You better make 'a'se, Brer Fox, ef you wanter git de good er yo' watermillions. Run, Brer Fox! run!'

“Wid dat Brer Rabbit dart back in de bushes, en Brer Fox drap he pipe en grab he walkin'-cane en put out fer he watermillion-patch, w'ich 'twer' down on de branch; en no sooner is he gone dan ole Brer Rabbit come out de bushes en make he way in de house.

“He go so easy dat he aint make no fuss; he look roun' en dar wuz de bag in de cornder. He kotch holt er de bag en sorter feel un it, en time he do dis, he year sum'n holler:

“ ‘Ow! Go 'way! Lem me 'lone! Tu'n me loose! Ow!'

“Brer Rabbit jump back 'stonish'd. Den 'fo' you kin wink yo' eye-ball, Brer Rabbit slap hisse'f on de leg en break out in a laugh. Den he up'n 'low:

“ ‘Ef I aint make no mistakes, dat ar kinder fuss kin come fum nobody in de 'roun' worl' but ole Brer Tarrypin.'

“Brer Tarrypin, he holler, sezee: ‘Aint dat Brer Rabbit?'

“ ‘De same,' sezee.

“ ‘Den whirl in en tu'n me out. Meal dus' in my th'oat, grit in my eye, en I aint kin git my breff, skacely. Tu'n me out, Brer Rabbit.'

“Brer Tarrypin talk lak somebody down in a well. Brer Rabbit, he holler back:

“ ‘Youer lots smarter dan w'at I is, Brer Tarrypin—lots smarter. Youer smarter en pearter. Peart ez I come yer, you is ahead er me. I know how you git in de bag, but I dunner how de name er goodness you tie yo'se'f up in dar, dat I don't.'

“Brer Tarrypin try ter splain, but Brer Rabbit keep on laughin', en he laugh twel he git he fill er laughin'; en den he tuck'n ontie de bag en take Brer Tarrypin out en tote 'im way off in de woods. Den, w'en he done dis, Brer Rabbit tuck'n run off en git a great big hornet-nes' w'at he see w'en he comin' long—”

“A hornet's nest, Uncle Remus?” exclaimed the little boy, in amazement.

“Tooby sho', honey. 'Taint bin a mont' sence I brung you a great big hornet-nes', en yer you is axin' dat. Brer Rabbit tuck'n slap he han' 'cross de little hole whar de hornets goes in at, en dar he had um. Den he tuck'n tuck it ter Brer Fox house, en put it in de bag whar Brer Tarrypin bin'.

“He put de hornet-nes' in dar,” continued Uncle Remus, lowering his voice, and becoming very grave, “en den he tie up de bag des lak he fine it. Yit 'fo' he put de bag in de cornder, w'at do dat creetur do? I aint settin' yer,” said the ole man, seizing his chair with both hands, as if by that means to emphasize the illustration, “I aint settin' yer ef dat ar creetur aint grab dat bag en slam it down 'g'in de flo', en hit it 'g'in de side er de house twel he git dem ar hornets all stirred up, en den he put de bag back in de cornder, en go out in de bushes ter whar Brer Tarrypin waitin', en den bofe un um sot out dar en wait fer to see w'at de upshot gwine ter be.

“Bimeby, yer come Brer Fox back fum he watermillion-patch en he look lak he mighty mad. He strak he cane down 'pun de groun', en do lak he gwine take he revengeance out'n po' ole Brer Tarrypin. He went in de do', Brer Fox did, en shot it atter 'im. Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin lissen', but dey aint year nothin'.

“But bimeby, fus news you know, dey year de mos'owdashus racket, tooby sho'. Seem lak, fum whar Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin settin' dat dey 'uz a whole passel er cows runnin' 'roun' in Brer Fox house. Dey year de cheers a fallin', en de table turnin' over, en de crock'ry breakin', en den de do' flew'd open, en out come Brer Fox, a-squallin' lak de Ole Boy wuz atter 'im. En sech a sight ez dem t'er creeturs seed den en dar aint never bin seed befo' ner sence.

“Dem ar hornets des swarmed on top er Brer Fox. 'Lev'm dozen un um 'ud hit at one time, en look lak dat ar creetur bleedz ter fine out fer hisse'f w'at pain en suffin' is. Dey bit 'im en dey stung 'im, en fur ez Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin kin year 'im, dem hornets 'uz des a nailin' 'im. Gentermens! dey gun 'im binjer!

“Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin, dey sot dar, dey did, en dey laugh en laugh, twel bimeby, Brer Rabbit roll over en grab he stomach, en holler:

“ ‘Don't, Brer Tarrypin! don't! One giggle mo' en you'll hatter tote me.'

“En dat aint all,” said Uncle Remus, raising his voice. “I know a little chap w'ich ef he set up yer 'sputin' 'longer me en de t'er creeturs, he won't have much fun termorrer night.”

The hint was sufficient, and the little boy ran out laughing.

LXXI

The day and the night before Christmas were full of pleasure for the little boy. There was pleasure in the big house, and pleasure in the humble cabins in the quarters. The peculiar manner in which the negroes celebrated the beginning of the holidays was familiar to the child's experience, but strange to his appreciation, and he enjoyed everything he saw and heard with the ready delight of his years—a delight, which, in this instance, had been trained and sharpened, if the expression may be used, in the small world over which Uncle Remus presided.

The little boy had a special invitation to be present at the marriage of Daddy Jack and 'Tildy, and he went, accompanied by Uncle Remus and Aunt Tempy. It seemed to be a very curious affair, but its incongruities made small impression upon the mind of the child.

'Tildy wore a white dress and had a wreath of artificial flowers in her hair. Daddy Jack wore a high hat, which he persisted in keeping on his head during the ceremony, and a coat the tails of which nearly dragged the floor. His bright little eyes glistened triumphantly, and he grinned and bowed to everybody again and again. After it was all over, the guests partook of cake baked by Aunt Tempy, and persimmon beer brewed by Uncle Remus.

It seemed, however, that 'Tildy was not perfectly happy; for, in response to a question asked by Aunt Tempy, she said:

“Yes'm, I'm gwine down de country 'long wid my ole man, an' I lay ef eve'ything don't go right, I'm gwineter pick up an' come right back.”

“No-no!” exclaimed Daddy Jack, “ 'e no come bahck no'n 'tall. 'E bin stay dey-dey wit' 'e nice ole-a man.”

“You put yo' pennunce in dat!” said 'Tildy, scornfully. “Dey aint nobody kin hol' me w'en I takes a notion, 'cep'n hits Miss Sally; en, goodness knows, Miss Sally aint gwine ter be down dar.”

“Who Miss Sally gwine put in de house?” Aunt Tempy asked.

“Humph!” exclaimed 'Tildy, scornfully, “Miss Sally say she gwine take dat ar Darkess
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nigger an' put 'er in my place. An' a mighty nice mess Darkess gwine ter make un 'it! Much she know 'bout waitin' on w'ite folks! Many's an' many's de time Miss Sally 'll set down in 'er rockin'-cheer an' wish fer 'Tildy—many's de time.”

This was 'Tildy's grievance—the idea that some one could be found to fill her place; and it is a grievance with which people of greater importance than the humble negro house-girl are more or less familiar.

But the preparations for the holidays went on in spite of 'Tildy's grievance. A large platform, used for sunning wheat and seed cotton, was arranged by the negroes for their dance, and several wagon-loads of resinous pine—known as lightwood—were placed round about it in little heaps, so that the occasion might lack no element of brilliancy.

At nightfall the heaps of lightwood were set on fire, and the little boy, who was waiting impatiently for Uncle Remus to come for him, could hear the negroes singing, dancing, and laughing. He was just ready to cry when he heard the voice of his venerable partner.

“Is dey a'er passenger anywhar's 'roun' yer fer Thump-town? De stage done ready en de hosses a-prancin'. Ef dey's a'er passenger 'roun' yer, I lay he des better be makin' ready fer ter go.”

The old man walked up to the back piazza as he spoke, held out his strong arms, and the little boy jumped into them with an exclamation of delight. The child's mother gave Uncle Remus a shawl to wrap around the child, and this shawl was the cause of considerable trouble, for the youngster persisted in wrapping it around the old man's head, and so blinding him that there was danger of his falling. Finally, he put the little boy down, took off his hat, raised his right hand, and said:

“Now, den, I bin a-beggin' un you fer ter quit yo' 'haveishness des long ez I'm a gwineter, en I aint gwine beg you no mo', kaze I'm des tetotally wo' out wid beggin', en de mo' I begs de wuss you gits. Now I'm done! You des go yo' ways en I'll go mine, en my way lays right spang back ter de big house whar Miss Sally is. Dat's whar I'm a-gwine!”

Uncle Remus started to the house with an exaggerated vigor of movement comical to behold; but, however, comical it may have been, it had its effect. The little boy ran after him, caught him by the hand, and made him stop.