Nights with Uncle Remus (17 page)

“Dey went on dis a way twel, bimeby, Brer Rabbit 'gun ter cas' 'roun', he did, fer ter see ef he can't bus' inter some er Brer Fox 'rangerments, en, atter w'ile, one day w'en he wer' settin' down by de side er de road wukkin up de diffunt oggyment w'at strak pun he mine, en fixin' up he tricks, des 'bout dat time he year a clatter up de long green lane, en yer come ole Brer Fox—
too-bookity—bookity—bookity-book
—lopin' 'long mo' samer dan a bay colt in de bolly-patch. En he wuz all primp up, too, mon, en he look slick en shiny lak he des come outen de sto'. Ole Man Rab., he sort dar, he did, en w'en ole Brer Fox come gallopin' long, Brer Rabbit, he up'n hail 'im. Brer Fox, he fotch up, en dey pass de time er day wid one er nudder monst'us perlite; en den, bimeby atter w'ile, Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee, dat he got some mighty good news fer Brer Fox; en Brer Fox, he up'n ax 'im w'at is it. Den Brer Rabbit, he sorter scratch he year wid his behime foot en say, sezee:

“ ‘I wuz takin' a walk day 'fo' yistiddy,' sezee, ‘w'en de fus' news I know'd I run up gin de bigges' en de fattes' bunch er grapes dat I ever lay eyes on. Dey wuz dat fat en dat big,' sezee, ‘dat de natal juice wuz des drappin' fum um, en de bees wuz a swawmin' atter de honey, en little ole Jack Sparrer en all er his fambly conneckshun wuz skeetin' 'roun' dar dippin' in der bills,' sezee.

“Right den en dar,” Uncle Remus went on, “Brer Fox mouf 'gun ter water, en he look outer he eye like he de bes' frien' w'at Brer Rabbit got in de roun' worl'. He done fergit all 'bout de gals, en he sorter sidle up ter Brer Rabbit, he did, en say, sezee:

“ ‘Come on, Brer Rabbit,' sezee, ‘en less you'n me go git dem ar grapes 'fo' deyer all gone,' sezee. En den ole Brer Rabbit, he laff, he did, en up'n 'spon', sezee:

“ ‘I hungry myse'f, Brer Fox,' sezee, ‘but I aint hankering' atter grapes, en I'll be in monst'us big luck ef I kin rush 'roun' yer some'rs en scrap up a bait er pusley time nuff fer ter keep de breff in my body. En yit,' sezee, ‘ef you take'n rack off atter deze yer grapes, w'at Miss Meadows en de gals gwine do? I lay dey got yo' name in de pot,' sezee.

“ ‘Ez ter dat,' sez ole Brer Fox, sezee, ‘I kin drap 'roun' en see de ladies atterwards,' sezee.

“ ‘Well, den, ef dat's yo' game,' sez ole man Rab., sezee, ‘I kin squot right flat down yer on de groun' en p'int out de way des de same ez leadin' you dar by de han',' sezee; en den Brer Rabbit sorter chaw on he cud lak he gedder'n up his 'membunce, en he up'n say, sezee:

“ ‘You know dat ar place whar you went atter sweetgum fer Miss Meadows en de gals t'er day?' sezee.

“Brer Fox 'low dat he know dat ar place same ez he do he own tater-patch.

“ ‘Well, den,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘de grapes aint dar. You git ter de sweetgum,' sezee, ‘en den you go up de branch twel you come ter a little patch er bamboo-brier—but de grapes aint dar. Den you follow yo' lef' han' en strike 'cross de hill twel you come ter dat big red-oak root—but de grapes aint dar. On you goes down de hill twel you come ter n'er branch, en on dat branch dars a dog-wood tree leanin' 'way over, en nigh dat dogwood dars a vine, en in dat vine, dar you'll fine yo' grapes. Deyer dat ripe,' sez ole Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘dat dey look like deyer done melt tergedder, en I speck you'll fine um full er bugs, but you kin take dat fine bushy tail er yone, Brer Fox,' sezee, ‘en bresh dem bugs away.'

“Brer Fox 'low he much 'blige, en den he put out atter de grapes in a han'-gallop, en w'en he done got outer sight, en likewise outer year'n, Brer Rabbit, he take'n git a blade er grass, he did, en tickle hisse'f in de year, en den he holler en laff, en laff en holler, twel he hatter lay down fer ter git he breff back 'gin.

“Den, atter so long time, Brer Rabbit he jump up, he do, en take atter Brer Fox, but Brer Fox, he aint look ter de right ner de lef', en needer do he look behime; he des keep a rackin' 'long twel he come ter de sweetgum-tree, en den he tu'n up de branch twel he come ter de bamboo-brier, en den he tu'n squar ter de lef' twel he come ter de big red-oak root, en den he keep on down he hill twel he come ter de yuther branch, en dar he see de dogwood; en mo'n dat, dar nigh de dogwood he see de vine, en in dat vine dar wuz de big bunch er grapes. Sho' nuff, dey wuz all kivvud wid bugs.

“Ole Brer Rabbit, he'd bin a pushin' 'long atter Brer Fox, but he des hatter scratch gravel fer ter keep up. Las' he hove in sight, en he lay off in de weeds, he did, fer ter watch Brer Fox motions. Present'y Brer Fox crope up de leanin' dogwood-tree twel he come nigh de grapes, en den he sorter ballunce hisse'f on a lim' en gun um a swipe wid his big bushy tail, fer ter bresh off de bugs. But, bless yo' soul, honey! no sooner is he done dat dan he fetch a squall w'ich Miss Meadows vow atterwards she year plum ter her house, en down he come—
ker-blim!
”

“What was the matter, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked.

“Law, honey! dat seetful Brer Rabbit done fool ole Brer Fox. Dem ar grapes all so fine wuz needer mo' ner less dan a great big was'-nes', en dem bugs wuz deze yer red wassies—deze yer speeshy wat's rank pizen fum een' ter een'. W'en Brer Fox drap fum de tree de wassies dey drap wid 'im, en de way dey wom ole Brer Fox up wuz sinful. Dey aint mo'n tetch 'im 'fo' dey had 'im het up ter de b'ilin' p'int. Brer Fox, he run, en he kick, en he scratch, en he bite, en he scramble, en he holler, en he howl, but look lak dey git wuss en wuss. One time, hit seem lak Brer Fox en his new 'quaintance wuz makin' todes Brer Rabbit, but dey aint no sooner p'int dat way, dan ole Brer Rabbit, he up'n make a break, en he went sailin' thoo de woods wuss'n wunner dese whully-win's, en he ain't stop twel he fetch up at Miss Meadows.

“Miss Meadows en de gals, dey ax 'im, dey did, wharbouts wuz Brer Fox, en Brer Rabbit, he up'n 'spon' dat he done gone a grape-huntin', en den Miss Meadows, she 'low, she did:

“ ‘Law, gals! is you ever year de beat er dat? En dat, too, w'en Brer Fox done say he comin' ter dinner,' sez she. ‘I lay I done wid Brer Fox, kaze you can't put no pennunce in deze yer men-folks, ' sez she. ‘Yer de dinner bin done dis long time, en we bin a waiting lak de quality. But now I'm done wid Brer Fox,' sez she.

“Wid dat, Miss Meadows en de gals dey ax Brer Rabbit fer ter stay ter dinner, en Brer Rabbit, he sorter make like he wanter be skuze, but bimeby he tuck a cheer en sot um out. He tuck a cheer,” continued Uncle Remus, “en he aint bin dar long twel he look out en spy old Brer Fox gwine 'long by, en w'at do Brer Rabbit do but call Miss Meadows en de gals en p'int 'im out? Soon's dey seed 'im dey sot up a monst'us gigglement, kaze Brer Fox wuz dat swell up twel little mo'n he'd a bus'. He head wuz swell up, en down ter he legs, dey wuz swell up. Miss Meadows, she up'n say dat Brer Fox look like he done gone en got all de grapes dey wuz in de neighberhoods, en one er de yuther gals, she squeal, she did, en say:

“ ‘Law, aint you 'shame,' en right yer 'fo' Brer Rabbit!'

“En den dey hilt der han's 'fo' der face en giggle des like gals duz deze days.”

XVII

The next night the little boy had been thoughtful enough to save some of his supper for Uncle Remus, and to this “Miss Sally” had added, on her own account, a large piece of fruit-cake. The old man appeared to be highly pleased.

“Ef ders enny kinder cake w'at I likes de mos', hits dish yer kine w'at's got reezins strowed 'mongs' it. Wid sick folks, now,” he continued, holding up the cake and subjecting it to a critical examination, “dish yer hunk 'ud mighty nigh las' a mont', but wid a well man lak I is, hit won't las' a minnit.”

And it didn't. It disappeared so suddenly that the little boy laughed aloud, and wanted Uncle Remus to have some more cake; but the latter protested that he didn't come there “fer ter git founder'd,” but merely to see “ef somebody's strenk uz strong nuff fer ter stan' n'er tale.” The little boy said if Uncle Remus meant him, he was sure his health was good enough to listen to any number of stories. Whereupon, the old man, without any tantalizing preliminaries, began:

“Brer Fox done bin fool so much by Brer Rabbit dat he sorter look 'roun' fer ter see ef he can't ketch up wid some er de yuther creeturs, en so, one day, w'iles he gwine long down de big road, who should he strak up wid but old Brer Tarrypin. Brer Fox sorter lick his chops, en 'low dat ef he kin fling enny-body en gin um all-under holt, Brer Tarrypin de man, en he march up, mighty biggity, like he gwine ter make spote un 'im. W'en he git up nigh nuff, Brer Fox hail 'im:

“ ‘How you speck you fine yo'se'f dis mawnin', Brer Tarrypin? ' sezee.

“ ‘Slow, Brer Fox—mighty slow,' sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. ‘Day in en day out I'm mighty slow, en it look lak I'm a-gittin' slower; I'm slow en po'ly, Brer Fox—how you come on?' sezee.

“ ‘Oh, I'm slanchindickler, same ez I allers is,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. ‘W'at make yo' eye so red, Brer Tarrypin?' sezee.

“ ‘Hit's all 'longer de trouble I see, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. ‘I see trouble en you see none; trouble come en pile up on trouble,' sezee.

“ ‘Law, Brer Tarrypin!' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ‘you aint see no trouble yit. Ef you wanter see sho' nuff trouble, you des oughter go 'longer me; I'm de man w'at kin show you trouble,' sezee.

“ ‘Well, den,' sez ole Brer Tarrypin, sezee, ‘ef youer de man w'at kin show me trouble, den I'm de man w'at want a glimpse un it,' sezee.

“Den Brer Fox, he ax Brer Tarrypin is he seed de Ole Boy, en den Brer Tarrypin, he make answer dat he aint seed 'im yit, but he year tell un 'im. Wid dat, Brer Fox 'low de Ole Boy de kinder trouble he bin talkin' 'bout, en den Brer Tarrypin, he up'n ax how he gwine see 'im. Brer Fox, he tak'n lay out de pogrance, en he up'n tell Brer Tarrypin dat ef he'll step up dar in de middle er dat ole broom-sage fiel', en squot dar a spell, 'twon't be no time 'fo' he'll ketch a glimpse er de Ole Boy.

“Brer Tarrypin know'd ders sump'n wrong some'rs, yit he mos' too flat-flooted fer ter have enny scuffle wid Brer Fox, en he say ter hisse'f dat he'll go 'long en des trus' ter luck; en den he 'low dat ef Brer Fox he'p 'im 'cross de fence, he b'lieve he'll go up en resk one eye on de Old Boy. Co'se Brer Fox hope 'im 'cross, en no sooner is he good en gone, dan Brer Fox, he fix up fer ter make 'im see trouble. He lipt out ter Miss Meadows house, Brer Fox did, en make like he wanter borry a chunk er fier fer ter light he pipe, en he tuck dat chunk, en he run 'roun' de fiel', en he sot de grass a fier, en 'twan't long 'fo' it look lak de whole face er de yeth waz a-blazin' up.”

“Did it burn the Terrapin up?” interrupted the little boy.

“Don't push me, honey; don't make me git de kyart 'fo' de hoss. W'en ole Brer Tarrypin 'gun ter wade thoo de straw, de ve'y fus' man w'at he strak up wid wuz ole man Rabbit layin' dar sleepin' on de shady side uv a tussock. Brer Rabbit, he one er deze yer kinder mens w'at sleep wid der eye wide open, en he wuz 'wake d'reckly he year Brer Tarrypin scufflin' en scramblin' 'long thoo de grass. Atter dey shuck han's en ax 'bout one er n'er fambly, hit aint take long fer Brer Tarrypin fer ter tell Brer Rabbit w'at fotch 'im dar, en Brer Rabbit, he up'n say, sezee:

“ ‘Hit's des natally a born blessin' dat you struck up wid me w'en you did,' sezee, ‘kaze little mo' en bofe un us would a bin bobbycu'd,' sezee.

“Dis kinder tarrify Brer Tarrypin, en he say he wanter git out frum dar; but Brer Rabbit he 'low he'd take keer un 'im, en he tuck'n tuck Brer Tarrypin in de middle er de fiel' whar dey wuz a big holler stump. Onter dis stump Brer Rabbit lif' Brer Tarrypin, en den he lip up hisse'f en crope in de holler, en, bless yo' soul, honey, w'en de fier come a-snippin' en a-snappin', dar dey sot des ez safe en ez snug ez you iz in yo' bed dis minit.

“W'en de blaze blow over, Brer Tarrypin look 'roun', en he see Brer Fox runnin' up'n down de fence lak he huntin' sump'n. Den Brer Rabbit, he stick his head up outen de hole, en likewise he seed 'im, and den he holler like Brer Tarrypin” (Here Uncle Remus puckered his voice, so to say, in a most amusing squeak):

“ ‘Brer Fox! Brer Fox! O Brer Fox! Run yer—we done kotch Brer Rabbit!'

“En den Brer Fox, he jump up on de top rail er de fence en fetch a spring dat lan' 'im 'way out in de bu'nin' grass, en it hurted 'im en sting 'im in de footses dat bad, dat he squeal en he roll, en de mo' he roll de wus it bu'n him, en Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin dey des holler en laff. Bimeby Brer Fox git out, en off he put down de road, limpin' fus on one foot en den on de yuther.”

The little boy laughed, and then there was a long silence—so long, indeed, that Uncle Remus's “Miss Sally,” sewing in the next room, concluded to investigate it. An exceedingly interesting tableau met her sight. The little child had wandered into the land of dreams with a smile on his face. He lay with one of his little hands buried in both of Uncle Remus's, while the old man himself was fast asleep, with his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. “Miss Sally” shook him by the shoulder and held up her finger to prevent him from speaking. He was quiet until she held the lamp for him to get down the back steps, and then she heard him say, in an indignantly mortified tone:

“Now den, Miss Sally'll be a-riggin' me 'bout noddin', but stidder dat she better be glad dat I aint bus loose en sno' en 'larm de house—let 'lone dat sick baby. Dat's w'at!”