Nights with Uncle Remus (36 page)

“ ‘W'at you come pesterin' 'long wid us fer, w'en we aint bin a pesterin' you? You got de consate dat I dunner who you is, but I does. Youer de same ole Cousin Wildcat w'at my gran'-daddy use ter kick en cuff w'en you 'fuse ter 'spon'. I let you know I got a better man yer dan w'at my gran'daddy ever is bin, en I boun' you he 'ull make you talk. Dat w'at I boun' you.'

“De creetur lean mo' harder 'gin' de tree, en sorter ruffle up he bristle, but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit, he 'low:

“ ‘Go up dar, Brer Fox, en ef he 'fuse ter 'spon' slap 'im down! Dat de way my gran'daddy done. You go up dar, Brer Fox, en ef he dast ter try ter run, I'll des whirl in en ketch 'im.'

“Brer Fox, he sorter jub'ous, but he start todes de creetur. Ole Cousin Wildcat walk all 'roun' de tree, rubbin' hisse'f, but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit, he holler:

“ ‘Des walk right up en slap 'im down, Brer Fox—de owdashus vilyun! Des hit 'im a surbinder, en ef he dast ter run, I boun' you I'll ketch 'im.'

“Brer Fox, he went up little nigher. Cousin Wildcat stop rubbin' on de tree, en sot up on he behime legs wid he front paws in de a'r, en he balance hisse'f by leanin' 'g'in de tree, but he aint sayin' nothin'. Brer Rabbit, he squall out, he did:

“ ‘Oh, you nee'nter put up yo' han's en try ter beg off. Dat de way you fool my old Grandaddy; but you can't foll we-all. All yo' settin' up en beggin' aint gwine ter he'p you. Ef youer so humble ez all dat, wa't make you come pesterin' 'longer we-all? Hit 'im a clip, Brer Fox! Ef he run, I'll ketch 'im!'

“Brer Fox see de creetur look so mighty humble, settin' up dar lak he beggin' off, en he sorter take heart. He sidle up todes 'im, he did, en des ez he 'uz makin' ready for ter slap 'im, old Cousin Wildcat drawd back en fotch Brer Fox a wipe 'cross de stomach.”

Uncle Remus paused here a moment, as if to discover some term strong enough to do complete justice to the catastrophe. Presently he went on:

“Dat ar Cousin Wildcat creetur fotch Brer Fox a wipe 'cross de stomach, en you mought a yeard 'eim squall fum yer ter Harmony Grove. Little mo' en de creetur would er to' Brer Fox in two. W'ence de creetur made a pass at 'im, Brer Rabbit knew w'at gwine ter happen, yit all de same, he tuck'n holler:

“ ‘Hit 'im ag'in, Brer Fox! Hit 'im ag'in! I'm a-backin' you, Brer Fox! Ef he dast ter run, I'll inabout cripple 'im—dat I will. Hit 'im ag'in!'

“All dis time, w'iles Brer Rabbit gwine on dis away, Brer Fox, he 'uz a squattin' down, hol'in' he stomach wid bofe han's en des a moanin':

“ ‘I'm ruint, Brer Rabbit! I'm ruint! Run fetch de doctor! I'm teetotally ruint!'

“ 'Bout dat time, Cousin Wildcat, he tuck'n tuck a walk. Brer Rabbit, he make lak he 'stonish' dat Brer Fox is hurted. He tuck'n 'zamin' de place, he did, en he up'n 'low:

“ ‘Hit look lak ter me, Brer Fox, dat dat owdashus vilyun tuck'n struck you wid a reapin'-hook.'

“Wid dat Brer Rabbit lit out fer home, en w'en he git out er sight, he tuck'n suck he han's des lak cat does w'en she git water on 'er foots, en he tuck'n laugh en laugh twel it make 'im sick fer ter laugh.”

XLV

The little boy thought that the story of how the wildcat scratched Brother Fox was one of the best stories he had ever heard, and he didn't hesitate to say so. His hearty endorsement increased Uncle Remus's good-humor; and the old man, with a broad grin upon his features, and something of enthusiasm in his tone, continued to narrate the adventures of Brother Rabbit.

“After Brer Fox git hurted so bad,” said Uncle Remus, putting an edge upon his axe with a whetstone held in his hand, “hit wuz a mighty long time 'fo' he could ramble 'roun' en worry ole Brer Rabbit. Des time Cousin Wildcat fetch'd 'im dat wipe 'cross de stomach, he tuk'n lay de blame on Brer Rabbit, en w'en he git well, he des tuck'n juggle wid de yuther creeturs, en dey all 'gree dat dem en Brer Rabbit can't drink out er de same branch, ner walk de same road, ner live in de same settlement, ner go in washin' in de same wash-hole.

“Tooby sho' Brer Rabbit bleedz to take notice er all dish yer kinder jugglements en gwines on, en he des tuck'n strenken he house, in de neighborhood er de winders, en den he put 'im up a steeple on tep er dat. Yasser! A sho' 'nuff steeple, en he rise 'er up so high dat folks gwine 'long de big road stop en say, “Hey! W'at kinder meetin'-house dat?' ”

The little boy laughed loudly at Uncle Remus's graphic delineation of the astonishment and admiration of the passers-by. The old man raised his head, stretched his eyes, and seemed to be looking over his spectacles right at Brother Rabbit's steeple.

“Folks 'ud stop en ax, but Brer Rabbit aint got time fer ter make no answer.
He
hammer'd,
he
nailed,
he
knock'd,
he
lam-m'd! Folks go by, he aint look up; creeturs come stan' en watch 'im, he aint look 'roun'; wuk, wuk, wuk, from sun-up ter sundown, twel dat ar steeple git done. Den ole Brer Rabbit tuck'n draw long breff, en wipe he forrerd, en 'low dat ef dem t'er creeturs w'at bin atter 'im so long is got any de 'vantage er him, de time done come fer um fer ter show it.

“Wid dat he went en got 'im a snack er sump'n t' eat, en a long piece er plough-line, en he tole he ole 'oman fer ter put a kittle er water on de fire, en stan' 'roun' close by, en eve'ything he tell 'er not ter do dat de ve'y thing she sho'ly mus' do. Den ole Brer Rabbit sot down in he rockin'-cheer en lookt out fum de steeple fer ter see how de lan' lay.

“ 'Twan't long 'fo' all de creeturs year talk dat Brer Rabbit done stop wuk, en dey 'gun ter come 'roun' fer ter see w'at he gwin do nex'. But Brer Rabbit, he got up dar, he did, en smoke he seegyar, en chaw he 'backer, en let he min' run on. Brer Wolf, he stan' en look up at de steeple, Brer Fox, he stan' en look up at it, en all de t'er creeturs dey done de same. Nex' time you see a crowd er folks lookin' at sump'n right hard, you des watch um, honey. Dey'll walk 'roun' one er n'er en swap places, en dey'll be constant on de move. Dat des de way de creeturs done. Dey walk 'roun' and punch one er n'er en swap places, en look en look. Ole Brer Rabbit, he sot up dar, he did, en chaw he 'backer, en smoke he seegyar, en let he min' run on.

“Bimeby ole Brer Tarrypin come 'long, en ole Brer Tarrypin bin in cohoots wid Brer Rabbit so long dat he does nat'ally know dey wuz gwine ter be fun er plenty 'roun' in dem neighborhoods 'fo' de sun go down. He laugh 'way down und' de roof er he house, ole Brer Tarrypin did, en den he hail Brer Rabbit:

“ ‘Heyo, Brer Rabbit! W'at you doin' 'way up in de elements lak dat?'

“ ‘I'm a sojourneyin' up yer fer ter res' myse'f, Brer Tarrypin. Drap up en see me.'

“ ‘Twix' you en me, Brer Rabbit, de drappin's all one way. S'posin' you tu'n loose en come. Man live dat high up bleedz ter have wings. I aint no high-flyer myse'f. I fear'd ter shake han's wid you so fur off, Brer Rabbit.'

“ ‘Not so, Brer Tarrypin, not so. My sta'rcase is a mighty limbersome one, en I'll des let it down ter you.'

“Wid dat, Brer Rabbit let down de plough-line.

“ ‘Des ketch holt er dat, Brer Tarrypin,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en up you comes,
linktum sinktum binktum boo!'
sezee.”

“What was that, Uncle Remus?” said the little boy, taking a serious view of the statement.

“Creetur talk, honey—des creetur talk. Bless yo' soul, chile!” the old man went on, with a laughable assumption of dignity, “ef you think I got time fer ter stop right short off en stribbit
⁸¹
out all I knows, you er mighty much mistaken—mighty much mistaken.

“Ole Brer Tarrypin know mighty well dat Brer Rabbit ain't got nothin' 'g'in 'im, yet he got sech a habit er lookin' out fer hisse'f, dat he tuck'n ketch de plough-line in he mouf, he did, en try de strenk un it. Ole Brer Rabbit, he holler ‘Swing on, Brer Tarrypin!' en Brer Tarrypin, he tuck'n swing on, en 'twant long 'fo he uz settin' up dar side er Brer Rabbit.

“But I wish ter goodness you'd a bin dar,” continued Uncle Remus, very gracefully leaving it to be inferred that
he
was there; “I wish ter goodness you'd a bin dar so you could er seed ole Brer Tarrypin w'iles Brer Rabbit 'uz haulin' 'im up, wid he tail a-wigglin' en he legs all spraddled out, en him a whirlin' 'roun' en 'roun' en lookin' skeer'd.

“De t'er creeturs dey see Brer Tarrypin go up safe en soun', en dey see de vittles passin' 'roun', en day 'gun ter feel lak dey watner see de inside er Brer Rabbit steeple. Den Brer Wolf, he hail 'im:

“ ‘Heyo dar, Brer Rabbit! Youer lookin' mighty scrumptious 'way up dar! How you come on?'

“Brer Rabbit, he look down, he did, en he see who 'tis hollerin', en he 'spon':

“ ‘Po'ly, mighty po'ly, but I thank de Lord I'm able to eat my 'lowance.
⁸²
Won't you drap up, Brer Wolf?'

“ ‘Hit's a mighty clumsy journey fer ter make, Brer Rabbit, yit I don't keer ef I does.'

“Wid dat, Brer Rabbit let down de plough-line, en Brer Wolf kotch holt, en dey 'gun ter haul 'im up. Dey haul en dey haul, en w'en Brer Wolf git mos' ter de top, he year Brer Rabbit holler out:

“ ‘Stir 'roun', ole 'oman, en set de table; but 'fo' you do dat, fetch de kittle fer ter make de coffee.'

“Dey haul and dey haul on de plough-line, en Brer Wolf year Brer Rabbit squall out:

“ ‘Watch out dar, ole 'oman! You'll spill dat b'ilin' water on Brer Wolf!'

“En, bless yo' soul!” continued Uncle Remus, turning half around in his chair to face his enthusiastic audience of one, “dat 'uz 'bout all Brer Wolf did year, kaze de nex' minit, down come de scaldin' water, en Brer Wolf des fetch one squall en turn't hisse'f aloose, en w'en he strak de groun' he bounces des same ez one er deze yer injun-rubber balls w'at you use ter play wid 'long in dem times 'fo' you tuck'n broke yo' mammy lookin'-glass. Ole Brer Rabbit, he lean fum out de steeple en 'pollygize de bes' he kin, but no 'pollygy aint gwine ter make ha'r come back whar de b'ilin' water hit.”

“Did they spill the hot water on purpose, Uncle Remus?” the little boy inquired.

“Now, den, honey, youer crowdin' me. Dem ar creeturs wuz mighty kuze—mo' speshually Brer Rabbit. W'en it come down ter dat,” said Uncle Remus, lowering his voice and looking very grave, “I speck ef youder s'arch de country fum hen-roost to river-bank,
⁸³
you won't fine a no mo' kuser man dan Brer Rabbit. All I knows is dat Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin had a mighty laughin' spell des 'bout de time Brer Wolf hit de groun'.”

XLVI

“En still we er by ourse'fs,” exclaimed Uncle Remus, as the little boy ran into his cabin, the night after he had heard the story of how Brother Rabbit scalded Brother Wolf. “We er by ourse'fs en time's a passin'. Dem ar folks dunner w'at dey er missin'. We er des gittin' ter dat p'int whar we kin keep de run er creeturs, en it keeps us dat busy we aint got time fer ter bolt our vittles skacely.

“I done tell you 'bout Brer Rabbit makin' 'im a steeple; but I aint tell you 'bout how Brer Rabbit got ole Brer Wolf out'n er mighty bad fix.”

“No,” said the little boy, “you haven't, and that's just what I have come for now.”

Uncle Remus looked at the rafters, then at the little boy, and finally broke into a loud laugh.

“I 'clar ter goodness,” he exclaimed, addressing the imaginary third person to whom he related the most of his grievances, “I 'clar ter goodness ef dat ar chile aint gittin' so dat he's eve'y whit ez up-en-spoken ez w'at ole Miss ever bin. Dat he is!”

The old man paused long enough to give the little boy some uneasiness, and then continued:

“Atter ole Brer Wolf de natal hide tuck off'n 'im on de 'counter er Brer Rabbit kittle, co'se he hatter go way off by hisse'f fer ter let de ha'r grow out. He 'uz gone so long dat Brer Rabbit sorter 'low ter hisse'f dat he speck he kin come down out'n he steeple, en sorter rack 'roun' mungs de t'er creaturs.

“He sorter primp up, Brer Rabbit did, en den he start out 'pun he journeys hether en yan.
⁸⁴
He tuck'n went ter de cross-roads,en dar he stop en choose 'im a road. He choose 'im a road, he did, en den he put out des lak he bin sent fer in a hurry.

“Brer Rabbit gallop on, he did, talkin' en laughin' wid hisse'f, en eve'y time he pass folks, he'd tu'n it off en make lak he singin'. He 'uz gwine on dis away, w'en fus' news you know, he tuck'n year sump'n. He stop talkin' en 'gun ter hum a chune, but he aint meet nobody. Den he stop en lissen en he hear sump'n holler:

“ ‘O Lordy! Lordy! Won't somebody come he'p me?' ”

The accent of grief and despair and suffering that Uncle Remus managed to throw into this supplication was really harrowing.

“Brer Rabbit year dis, en he stop en lissen. 'Twan't long 'fo' sump'n n'er holler out:

“ ‘O Lordy, Lordy! Please, somebody, come en he'p me.'

“Brer Rabbit, he h'ist up he years, he did, en make answer back:

“ ‘Who is you, nohow, en w'at de name er goodness de marter?'