Nights with Uncle Remus (11 page)

“Well, den,” Uncle Remus remarked, in a relieved tone, “dat's diffunt. I wuz mos' fear'd it 'uz some er dat ar sillerbug, w'ich a whole jugful aint ska'cely 'nuff fer ter make you seem like you dremp 'bout smellin' dram. Ef I'm gwine ter be fed on foam,” continued the old man, by way of explaining his position on the subject of syllabub, “let it be foam, en ef I'm gwine ter git dram, lemme git in reach un it w'ile she got some strenk lef'. Dat's me up and down. W'en it come ter yo' floatin' ilun, des gimme a hunk er ginger-cake en a mug er 'simmon-beer, en dey wont fine no nigger w'ats got no slicker fellins' dan w'at I is.

“Miss Sally mighty kuse w'ite 'oman,” Uncle Remus went on. “She sendin' all deze doin's en fixin's down yer, en I 'speck deyer monst'us nice, but no longer'n las' Chuseday she had all de niggers on de place, big en little, gwine squallin' 'roun' fer Remus. Hit 'uz Remus yer en Remus dar, en, lo en beholes, w'en I come ter fine out, Miss Sally want Remus fer ter whirl in en cook 'er one er deze yer ole-time ash-cakes. She bleedzd ter have it den en dar; en w'en I git it done, Miss Sally, she got a glass er buttermilk, en tuck'n sot right flat down on de flo', des like she useter w'en she wuz little gal.” The old man paused, straightened up, looked at the child over his spectacles, and continued, with emphasis: “En I be bless ef she aint eat a hunk er dat ash-cake mighty nigh ez big ez yo' head, en den she tuck'n make out 'twa'n't cook right.

“Now, den, honey, all deze done fix. You set over dar, and I'll set over yer, en 'twix' en 'tween us we'll sample dish yer truck en see w'at is it Miss Sally done gone en sont us; en w'iles we er makin' 'way wid it, I'll sorter rustle 'roun' wid my 'membunce, en se ef I kin call ter min' de tale 'bout how ole Brer Rabbit got 'im a two-story house widout layin' out much cash.”

Uncle Remus stopped talking a little while and pretended to be trying to remember something—an effort that was accompanied by a curious humming sound in his throat. Finally, he brightened up and began:

“Hit tu'n out one time dat a whole lot er de creeturs tuck a notion dat dey'd go in cahoots wid buil'n' un um a house. Ole Brer B'ar, he was 'mongs' um, en Brer Fox, en Brer Wolf, en Brer 'Coon, en Brer 'Possum. I wont make sho', but it seem like ter me dat plum down ter ole Brer Mink 'uz 'mongs' um. Leas'ways, dey wuz a whole passel un um, en dey whirl in, dey did, en dey buil' de house in less'n no time. Brer Rabbit, he make lak it make he head swim fer ter climb up on de scaffle, en likewise he say it make 'im ketch de palsy fer ter wuk in de sun, but he got 'im a squar', en he stuck a pencil behime he year, en he went 'roun' medjun
³¹
en markin'—medjun en markin'—en he wuz dat busy dat de yuther creeturs say ter deyse'f he doin' monst'us sight er wuk, en folks gwine 'long de big road say Brer Rabbit doin' mo' hard wuk dan de whole kit en bilin' un um. Yit all de time Brer Rabbit aint doin' nothin', en he des well bin layin' off in de shade scratchin' de fleas off'n 'im. De yuther creeturs, dey buil' de house, en, gentermens! she 'uz a fine un, too, mon. She'd 'a' bin a fine un deze days, let 'lone dem days. She had er upsta'rs en downsta'rs, en chimbleys all 'roun', en she had rooms fer all de creeturs w'at went inter cahoots en hope make it.

“Brer Rabbit, he pick out one er de upsta'rs rooms, en he tuck'n' got 'im a gun, en one er deze yer brass cannons, en he tuck'n' put um in dar w'en de yuther creeturs aint lookin', en den he tuck'n' got 'im a tub er nasty slop-water, w'ich likewise he put in dar w'en dey aint lookin'. So den, w'en dey git de house all fix, en w'iles dey wuz all a-settin' in de parlor atter supper, Brer Rabbit, he sorter gap en stretch hisse'f, en make his 'skuses en say he b'leeve he'll go ter he room. W'en he git dar, en w'iles all de yuther creeturs wuz a-laughin' en a-chattin' des ez sociable ez you please, Brer Rabbit, he stick he head out er de do' er he room en sing out:

“ ‘W'en a big man like me wanter set down, wharbouts he gwine ter set?' sezee.

“Den de yuther creeturs dey laugh, en holler back:

“ ‘Ef big man like you can't set in a cheer, he better set down on de flo'.'

“ ‘Watch out down dar, den,' sez ole Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘Kaze I'm a gwine ter set down,' sezee.

“Wid dat,
bang!
went Brer Rabbit gun. Co'se, dis sorter 'stonish de creeturs, en dey look 'roun' at one er n'er much ez ter say, W'at in de name er gracious is dat? Dey lissen en lissen, but dey don't year no mo' fuss, en 'twa'n't long 'fo' dey got ter chattin' en jabberin' some mo'. Bimeby, Brer Rabbit stick he head outer he room do', en sing out:

“ ‘W'en a big man like me wanter sneeze, wharbouts he gwine ter sneeze at?'

“Den de yuther creeturs, dey tuck'n' holler back:

“ ‘Ef big man like you aint a gone gump, he kin sneeze anywhar he please.'

“ ‘Watch out down dar, den,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘Kaze I'm gwineter tu'n loose en sneeze right yer,' sezee.

“Wid dat, Brer Rabbit let off his cannon—
bulderum-m-m!
De winder-glass dey shuck en rattle, en de house shuck like she gwine ter come down, en ole Brer B'ar, he fell out de rockin'-cheer—
kerblump!
W'en de creeturs git sorter settle, Brer 'Possum en Brer Mink, dey up'n' 'low dat Brer Rabbit got sech a mons'us bad cole, dey b'leeve dey'll step out and git some fresh a'r, but dem yuther creeturs, dey say dey gwine ter stick it out; en atter w'ile, w'en dey git der h'ar smoove down, dey 'gun ter jower 'mongs' deyse'f. 'Bout dat time, w'en dey get in a good way, Brer Rabbit, he sing out:

“ ‘When a big man like me take a chaw terbacker, wharbouts he gwine ter spit?'

“Den de yuther creeturs, dey holler back, dey did, sorter like deyer mad:

“ ‘Big man er little man, spit whar you please.'

“Den Brer Rabbit, he squall out:

“ ‘Dis de way a big man spit!' en wid dat he tilt over de tub er slop-water, en w'en de yuther creeturs year it come a-sloshin' down de sta'r-steps, gentermens! dey des histed deyse'f outer dar. Some un um went out de back do', en some un um went out de front do', en some un um fell out de winders; some went one way en some went n'er way; but dey all went sailin' out.”

“But what became of Brother Rabbit?” the little boy asked.

“Brer Rabbit, he des tuck'n' shot up de house en fassen de winders, en den he go ter bed, he did, en pull de coverled up 'roun' he years, en he sleep like a man w'at aint owe nobody nuthin'; en needer do he owe um, kaze ef dem yuther creeturs gwine git skeer'd en run off fum der own house, w'at bizness is dat er Brer Rabbit? Dat w'at I like ter know.”

VII

Uncle Remus sighed heavily as he lifted the trivet on the head of his walking-cane, and hung it carefully by the side of the griddle in the cavernous fireplace.

“Folks kin come 'long wid der watchermaycollums,” he said, presently, turning to the little boy, who was supplementing his supper by biting off a chew of shoemaker's-wax, “en likewise dey kin fetch 'roun' der watziz-names. Dey kin walk biggity, en dey kin talk biggity, en, mo'n dat, dey kin feel biggity, but yit all de same deyer gwine ter git kotch up wid. Dey go 'long en dey go 'long, en den bimeby yer come trouble en snatch um slonchways, en de mo' bigger w'at dey is, de wusser does dey git snatched.”

The little boy didn't understand this harangue at all, but he appreciated it because he recognized it as the prelude to a story.

“Dar wuz Mr. Lion,” Uncle Remus went on; “he tuck'n' sot hisse'f up fer ter be de boss er all de yuther creeturs, en he feel so biggity dat he go ro'in' en rampin' 'roun' de neighborhoods 'wuss'n dat ar speckle bull w'at you see down at yo' Unk' Jeems Abercrombie place las' year. He went ro'in' 'roun', he did, en eve'ywhar he go he year talk er Mr. Man. Right in de middle er he braggin', some un 'ud up'n' tell 'im 'bout w'at Mr. Man done done. Mr. Lion, he say he done dis, en den he year 'bout how Mr. Man done dat. Hit went on dis away twel bimeby Mr. Lion shake he mane, he did, en he up'n' say dat he gwine ter s'arch 'roun' en 'roun', en high en low, fer ter see ef he can't fine Mr. Man, en he 'low, Mr. Lion did, dat w'en he do fine 'im, he gwine ter tu'n in en gin Mr. Man sech n'er larrupin' w'at nobody aint never had yit. Dem yuther creeturs, dey tuck'n' tell Mr. Lion dat he better let Mr. Man 'lone, but Mr. Lion say he gwine ter hunt 'im down spite er all dey kin do.

“Sho' nuff, atter he done tuck some res', Mr. Lion, he put out down de big road. Sun, she rise up en shine hot, but Mr. Lion, he keep on; win', hit come up en blow, en fill de elements full er dust; rain, hit drif' up en drizzle down; but Mr. Lion, he keep on. Bimeby, w'iles he gwine on dis away, wid he tongue hangin' out, he come up wid Mr. Steer, grazin' 'long on de side er de road. Mr. Lion, he up'n' ax 'im howdy, he did, monst'us perlite, en Mr. Steer likewise he bow en scrape en show his manners. Den Mr. Lion, he do lak he wanter have some confab wid 'im, en he up'n' say, sezee:

“ ‘Is dey anybody 'roun' in deze parts name Mr. Man?' sezee.

“ ‘Tooby sho' de is,' sez Mr. Steer, sezee; ‘anybody kin tell you dat. I knows 'im mighty well,' sezee.

“ ‘Well, den, he de ve'y chap I'm atter,' sezee.

“ ‘W'at mought be yo' bizness wid Mr. Man?' sez Mr. Steer, sezee.

“ ‘I done come dis long ways fer ter gin 'im a larrupin,' sez Mr. Lion, sezee. ‘I'm gwine ter show 'im who de boss er deze neighborhoods,' sezee, en wid dat Mr. Lion, he shake he mane, en switch he tail, en strut up en down wuss'n one er deze yer town niggers.

“ ‘Well, den, ef dat w'at you come atter,' sez Mr. Steer, sezee, ‘you des better slew yo'se'f 'roun' en p'int yo' nose todes home, kaze you fixin' fer ter git in sho' 'nuff trouble,' sezee.

“ ‘I'm gwine ter larrup dat same Mr. Man,' sez Mr. Lion, sezee; ‘I done come fer dat, en dat w'at I'm gwine ter do,' sezee.

“Mr. Steer, he draw long breff, he did, en chaw he cud slow, en atter w'ile he say, sezee:

“ ‘You see me stannin' yer front er yo' eyes, en you see how big I is, en w'at long, sharp hawns I got. Well, big ez my heft is, en sharp dough my hawns be, yit Mr. Man, he come out yer en he ketch me, en he put me und' a yoke, en he hitch me up in a kyart, en he make me haul he wood, en he drive me anywhar he min' ter. He do dat. Better let Mr. Man 'lone,' sezee. ‘Ef you fool 'long wid 'im, watch out dat he don't hitch you up en have you prancin' 'roun' yer pullin' he kyart,' sezee.

“Mr. Lion, he fotch a roar, en put out down de road, en 'twa'n't so mighty long 'fo' he come up wid Mr. Hoss, w'ich he wuz a-nibblin' en a-croppin' de grass. Mr. Lion make hisse'f know'd, en den he tuck'n' ax Mr. Hoss do he know Mr. Man.

“ ‘Mighty well,' sez Mr. Hoss, sezee, ‘en mo'n dat, I bin a-knowin' 'im a long time. W'at you want wid Mr. Man?' sezee.

“ ‘I'm a huntin' 'im up fer ter larrup 'im,' sez Mr. Lion, sezee. ‘Dey tels me he mighty stuck up,' sezee, ‘en I gwine take 'im down a peg,' sezee.

“Mr. Hoss look at Mr. Lion like he sorry, en bimeby he up'n say:

“ ‘I 'speck you better let Mr. Man 'lone,' sezee. ‘You see how big I is, en how much strenk w'at I got, en how tough my foots is,' sezee; ‘well dish yer Mr. Man, he kin take'n' take me en hitch me up in he buggy, en make me haul 'im all 'roun', en den he kin tak'n' fassen me ter de plow en make me break up all his new groun',' sezee. ‘You better go 'long back home. Fus' news you know, Mr. Man'll have you breakin' up his new groun',' sezee.

“Spite er all dis, Mr. Lion, he shake he mane en say he gwine ter larrup Mr. Man anyhow. He went on down de big road, he did, en bimeby he come up wid Mr. Jack Sparrer, settin' up in de top er de tree. Mr. Jack Sparrer, he whirl 'roun' en chirp, en flutter 'bout up dar, en 'pariently make a great 'miration.

“ ‘Heyo yer!' sezee; ‘who'd er 'speckted fer ter see Mr. Lion 'way down yer in dis neighborhoods?' sezee. ‘Whar you gwine, Mr. Lion?' sezee.

“Den Mr. Lion ax ef Mr. Jack Sparrer know Mr. Man, en Mr. Jack Sparrer say he know Mr. Man mighty well. Den Mr. Lion, he ax ef Mr. Jack Sparrer know whar he stay, w'ich Mr. Jack Sparrer say dat he do. Mr. Lion ax wharbouts is Mr. Man, en Mr. Jack Sparrer say he right 'cross dar in de new groun', en he up'n' ax Mr. Lion w'at he want wid 'im, w'ich Mr. Lion 'spon' dat he gwine larrup Mr. Man, en wid dat, Mr. Jack Sparrer, he up'n' say, sezee:

“ ‘You better let Mr. Man 'lone. You see how little I is, en likewise how high I kin fly; yit, 'spite er dat, Mr. Man, he kin fetch me down w'en he git good and ready,' sezee. ‘You better tuck yo' tail en put out home,' sez Mr. Jack Sparrer, sezee, ‘kaze bimeby Mr. Man'll fetch you down,' sezee.

“But Mr. Lion des vow he gwine atter Mr. Man, en go he would, en go he did. He aint never see Mr. Man, Mr. Lion aint, en he dunner w'at he look lak, but he go on todes de new groun'. Sho' 'nuff, dar wuz Mr. Man, out dar maulin' rails fer ter make 'im a fence. He 'uz rippin' up de butt cut, Mr. Man wuz, en he druv in his wedge en den he stuck in de glut. He 'uz splittin' 'way, w'en bimeby he year rustlin' out dar in de bushes, en he look up, en dar wuz Mr. Lion. Mr. Lion ax 'im do he know Mr. Man, en Mr. Man 'low dat he know 'im mo' samer dan ef he wer' his twin brer. Den Mr. Lion 'low dat he wanter see 'im, en den Mr. Man say, sezee, dat ef Mr. Lion will come stick his paw in de split fer ter hol' de log open twel he git back, he go fetch Mr. Man. Mr. Lion he march up en slap his paw in de place, en den Mr. Man, he tuck'n' knock the glut out, en de split close up, en dar Mr. Lion wuz. Mr. Man, he stan' off en say, sezee: