Nights with Uncle Remus (25 page)

Read Nights with Uncle Remus Online

Authors: Joel Chandler Harris

BOOK: Nights with Uncle Remus
4.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The conversation turned on Daddy Jack's story about “haunts” and spirits. Finally, 'Tildy said:
“W'en it come ter tales 'bout ha'nts,” said she, “I year tell er one dat'll des natally make de kinks on yo' head onquile deyse'f.”
“W'at tale dat, chile?” asked Aunt Tempy.
“Unk' Remus, mus' I tell it?”
“Let 'er come,” said Uncle Remus.
“Well, den,” said 'Tildy, rolling her eyes back and displaying her white teeth, “one time dey wuz a 'Oman en a Man. Seem like dey live closer ter one er n'er, en de Man he sot his eyes on de 'Oman, en de 'Oman, she des went 'long en ten' ter her bizness. Man, he keep his eyes sot on 'er. Bimeby, de 'Oman, she ten' ter her bizness so much tell she tuck'n tuck sick en die. Man, he up'n tell de folks she dead, en de folks dey come en fix 'er. Dey ley 'er out, en dey light some candles, en dey sot up wid 'er, des like folks does now; en dey put two great big roun' shiny silver dollars on 'er eyes fer ter hol' 'er eyeleds down.”
In describing the silver dollars 'Tildy joined the ends of her thumbs and fore-fingers together, and made a figure as large as a saucer.
“Dey wuz lots bigger dan dollars is deze days,” she continued, “en dey look mighty purty. Seem like dey wuz all de money de 'Oman got, en de folks dey put um on 'er eyeleds fer to hol' um down. Den w'en de folks do dat dey call up de Man en take'n tell 'im dat he mus' dig a grave en bury de 'Oman, en den dey all went off 'bout der bizness.
“Well, den, de Man, he tuck'n dig de grave en make ready fer ter bury de 'Oman. He look at dat money on 'er eyeleds, en it shine mighty purty. Den he tuck it off en feel it. Hit feel mighty good, but des 'bout dat time de Man look at de 'Oman, en he see 'er eyeleds open. Look like she lookin' at 'im, en he take'n put de money whar he git it fum.
“Well, den, de Man, he take'n git a waggin en haul de 'Oman out ter de buryin'-groun', en w'en he git dar he fix ever'thing, en den he grab de money en kivver up de grave right quick. Den he go home, en put de money in a tin box en rattle it 'roun'. Hit rattle loud en hit rattle nice, but de Man, he aint feel so good. Seem like he know de 'Oman eyeled stretch wide open lookin' fer 'im. Yit he rattle de money 'roun', en hit rattle loud en hit rattle nice.
“Well, den, de Man, he take'n put de tin box w'at de money in on de mantel-shel-uf. De day go by, en de night come, en w'en night come de win' 'gun ter rise up en blow. Hit rise high, hit blow strong. Hit blow on top er de house, hit blow und' de house, hit blow 'roun' de house. Man, he feel quare. He set by de fier en lissen. Win' say
‘Buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!
' Man lissen. Win' holler en cry. Hit blow top er de house, hit blow und' de house, hit blow roun' de house, hit blow in de house. Man git closte up in de chimbly-jam. Win' fin' de cracks en blow in um.
‘Bizzy, bizzy, buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!'
“Well, den, Man, he lissen, lissen, but bimeby he git tired er dis, en he low ter hisse'f dat he gwine ter bed. He tuck'n fling a fresh light'd knot in de fier, en den he jump in de bed, en quile hisse'f up en put his head und' de kivver. Win' hunt fer de cracks—
bizzy-buzz, bizzy-buzz, buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!
Man keep his head und' de kivver. Light'd knot flar' up en flicker. Man aint dast ter move. Win' blow en w'issel
Phew-fee-e-e-e!
Light'd knot flicker en flar'. Man, he keep his head kivvud.
“Well, den, Man lay dar, en git skeer'der en skeer'der. He aint dast ter wink his eye skacely, en seem like he gwine ter have swamp agur. W'iles he layin' dar shakin', en de win' a blowin', en de fier flickin', he year some yuther kind er fuss. Hit mighty kuse kind er fuss.
Clinkity, clinkalinkle!
Man 'low:
“ ‘Hey! who stealin' my money?'
“Yit he keep his head kivvud w'iles he lay en lissen. He year do win' blow, en den he year dat yuther kinder fuss—
Clinkity, clink, clinkity, clinkalinkle!
Well, den, he fling off de kivver en sot right up in de bed. He look, he aint see nothin'. De fier flicker en flar' en de win' blow. Man go en put chain en bar 'cross de do'. Den he go back to bed, en he aint mo'n totch his head on de piller tell he year de yuther fuss—
clink, clink, clinkity, clinkalinkle!
Man rise up, he aint see nothin' 'tall. Mighty quare!
“Des 'bout time he gwine ter lay down 'gin', yer come de fuss—
clinkity, clinkalinkle.
Hit soun' like it on de mantel-shel-uf; 'let 'lone dat, hit soun' like it in de tinbox on de mantel-shel-uf; 'let 'lone dat, hit soun' like it de money in de tin box on de mantel-shel-uf. Man say:
“ ‘Hey! rat done got in box!'
“Man look; no rat dar. He shet up de box, en set it down on de shel-uf. Time he do dat yer come de fuss—
clinkity, clinkity, clinkalinkle!
Man open de box en look at de money. Dem two silver dollars layin' in dar des like he put um. W'iles de man dun dis, look like he kin year sump 'n say 'way off yander:
“‘Whar my money? Oh, gim me my money!'
“Man, he sot de box back on de shel-uf, en time he put it down he year de money rattle—
clinkity, clinkalinkle, clink!
—en den fum 'way off yander sump'n say:
“‘Oh, gim me my money! I want my money!'
“Well, den, de Man git skeer'd sho nuff, en he got er flat-iün en put on de tin box, en den he tuck'n pile all de cheers 'gin de do', en run en jump in de bed. He des know dey's a booger comin'. Time he git in bed en kivver his head, de money rattle louder, en sump'n cry 'way off yander:
“‘I want my money! Oh, gim me my money!'
“Man, he shake en he shiver; money, hit clink en rattle; booger, hit holler en cry. Booger come closter, money clink louder. Man shake wusser en wusser. Money say:
‘Clinkity, clinkalinkle!
' Booger cry,
‘Oh, gim me my money!'
Man holler,
‘O Lordy, Lordy!'
“Well, den, hit keep on dis away, tell dreckly Man year de do' open. He peep fum und' de kivver, en in walk de 'Oman w'at he done bury in de buryin'-groun'. Man shiver en shiver, win' blow en blow, money rattle en rattle, 'Oman cry en cry.
‘Buzz-zoo-o-o-o-o!'
sez de win';
‘Clinkalink!'
sez de box;
‘Oh gim me my money!'
sez de 'Oman;
‘O Lordy!'
sez de Man. 'Oman year de money, but look like she aint kin see, en she grope 'roun', en grope 'roun', en grope 'roun' wid 'er han' h'ist in de a'r des dis away.”
Here 'Tildy stood up, pushed her chair back with her foot, raised her arms over her head, and leaned forward in the direction of Daddy Jack.
“Win' blow, fier flicker, money rattle, Man shake en shiver, 'Oman grope 'roun' en say,
‘Gim me my money! Oh, who got my money?'”
'Tildy advanced a few steps.
“Money look like it gwine ter t'ar de tin box all ter flinders. 'Oman grope en cry, grope en cry, tell bimeby she jump on de man en holler:
“‘You got my money!'”
As she reached this climax, 'Tildy sprang at Daddy Jack and seized him, and for a few moments there was considerable confusion in the corner. The little boy was frightened, but the collapsed appearance of Daddy Jack convulsed him with laughter. The old African was very angry. His little eyes glistened with momentary malice, and he shook his cane threateningly at 'Tildy. The latter coolly adjusted her ear-rings, as she exclaimed:
“Dar, now! I know'd I'd git even wid de ole vilyun. Come a-callin' me pidjin-toed!”
“Better keep yo' eye on 'im, chile,” said Aunt Tempy. “He 'witch you, sho.”
“ 'Witch who? Ef he come witchin' 'roun' me, I lay, I break his back. I tell you dat right pine-blank.”
XXX
Brother Rabbit and His Famous Foot
The little boy was very glad, one night shortly after he had heard about Daddy Jack's ghosts and witches and 'Tildy's “ha'nts,” to find Uncle Remus alone in his cabin. The child liked to have his venerable partner all to himself. Uncle Remus was engaged in hunting for tobacco crumbs with which to fill his pipe, and in turning his pockets a rabbit foot dropped upon the hearth.
“Grab it, honey!” he exclaimed. “Snatch it up off'n de h'ath. In de name er goodness, don't let it git in de embers; kase ef dat ar rabbit foot git singe, I'm a goner, sho!”
It was the hind foot of a rabbit, and a very large one at that, and the little boy examined it curiously. He was in thorough sympathy with all the superstitions of the negroes, and to him the rabbit foot appeared to be an uncanny affair. He placed it carefully on Uncle Remus's knee, and after the pipe had been filled, he asked:
“What do you carry that for, Uncle Remus?”
“Well, honey,” responded the old man, grimly, “ef you want me ter make shorts out'n a mighty long tale, dat rabbit foot is fer ter keep off boogers. W'en I hatter run er'n's fer myse'f all times er night, en take nigh cuts thoo de woods, en 'cross by de buryin'-groun', hits monst'us handy fer ter have dat ar rabbit foot. Keep yo' head studdy, now; mine yo' eye; I aint sayin' deyer any boogers anywhars. Brer Jack kin say w'at he mineter; I aint sayin' nothin'. But yit, ef dey wuz any, en dey come slinkin' atter me, I let you know dey'd fine out terreckly dat de ole nigger heel'd wid rabbit foot. I'ud hol' it up des dis away, en I boun' you I'd shoo um off'n de face er de yeth. En I tell you w'at,” continued Uncle Remus, seeing that the little boy was somewhat troubled, “w'en it come to dat pass dat you gotter be dodgin' 'roun' in de dark, ef you'll des holler fer me, I'll loan you dish yer rabbit foot, en you'll be des ez safe ez you is w'en Miss Sally stannin' by yo' bed wid a lit can'le in 'er han'.
“Strip er red flannil tied 'roun' yo' arm'll keep off de rheumatis; stump-water'll kyo 'spepsy; some good fer one 'zeeze,
49
en some good fer n'er, but de p'ints'is dat dish yer rabbit foot'll gin you good luck. De man w'at tote it mighty ap' fer ter come out right een' up wen dey's any racket gwine on in de neighborhoods, let 'er be whar she will en w'en she may; mo' espeshually ef de man w'at got it know 'zactly w'at he got ter do. W'ite folks may laugh,” Uncle Remus went on, “but w'en rabbit run 'cross de big road front er me, w'at does I do? Does I shoo at um? Does I make fer ter kill um? Dat I don't—
dat
I don't! I des squots right down in de middle er de road, en I makes a cross-mark in de san des dis way, en den I spits in it.”
50
Uncle Remus made a practical illustration by drawing a cross-mark in the ashes of the hearth.
“Well, but, Uncle Remus, what good does all this do?” the little boy asked.
“Lots er good, honey; bless yo' soul, lots er good. W'en rabbit crosses yo' luck, w'at you gwine do, less'n you sets down en crosses it out, right den and dar? I year talk er folks shootin' rabbit in de big road, yit I notices dat dem w'at does de shootin' aint come ter no good een'—dat w'at I notices.”
“Uncle Remus,” the little boy asked, after a while, “how did people happen to find out about the rabbit's foot?”
“Oh, you let folks 'lone fer dat, honey! You des let um 'lone. W'at de wimmen aint up'n tell bidout anybody axin' un um, folks mighty ap' fer ter fine out fer deyse'f. De wimmen, dey does de talkin' en de flyin', en de mens, dey does de walkin' en de pryin', en betwixt en betweenst um, dey aint much dat don't come out. Ef don't come out one day it do de nex', en so she goes—Ant'ny over, Ant'ny under—up one row en down de udder, en clean acrosst de bolly-patch!”
It may be that the child didn't understand all this, but he had no doubt of its wisdom, and so he waited patiently for developments.
“Dey's a tale 'bout de rabbit foot,” continued Uncle Remus, “but yo' eye look watery, like ole man Nod 'bout ter slip up behime you; en let 'lone dat, I speck Miss Sally clock clickin' fer you right now.”
“Oh, no, it isn't, Uncle Remus,” said the child, laughing. “Mamma said she'd make 'Tildy call me.”
“Dar, now!” exclaimed the old man, indignantly, “ 'Tildy dis en 'Tildy dat. I dunner w'at yo' mammy dreamin' 'bout fer ter let dat nigger gal be a-holl'in' en a-bawlin' atter you all 'roun' dish yer plan'ation. She de mos' uppity nigger on de hill, en de fus' news you know dey ull all hatter make der bows en call 'er Mistiss. Ef ole Miss wuz 'live, dey wouldn't be no sech gwines on 'roun' yer. But nummine.
51
You des let 'er come a-cuttin' up front er my do', en I lay you'll year squallin'. Now, den,” continued the old man, settling himself back in his chair, “wharbouts wuz I?”
“You said there was a tale about the rabbit foot,” the little boy replied.
“So dey is, honey! so dey is!” Uncle Remus exclaimed, “but she got so many crooks en tu'ns in 'er dat I dunner but w'at I aint done gone en fergotted some un um off'n my min'; kaze old folks lak me knows lots mo' dan w'at dey kin 'member.
“In de days w'ence Brer Rabbit wuz sorter keepin' de neighborhoods stirred up, de yuther creeturs wuz studying' en studyin' de whole blessid time how dey gwine ter nab 'im. Dey aint had no holiday yit, kaze w'en de holiday come, dey'd go ter wuk, dey would, en juggle wid one er n'er fer ter see how dey gwine ter ketch up with Brer Rabbit. Bimeby, w'en all der plans, en der traps, en der jubblements aint do no good, dey all 'gree, dey did, dat Brer Rabbit got some cunjerment w'at he trick um wid. Brer B'ar, he up'n low, he did, dat he boun' Brer Rabbit is a nat'al bawn witch; Brer Wolf say, sezee, dat he speck Brer Rabbit des in cahoots wid a witch; en Brer Fox, he vow dat Brer Rabbit got mo' luck dan smartness. Den Jedge B'ar, he drap he head one side, he did, en he ax how come Brer Rabbit got all de luck on he own side. De mo' dey ax, de mo' dey git pestered, en de mo' dey git pestered, de wuss dey worry. Day in en day out dey wuk wid dis puzzlement; let 'lone dat, dey sot up nights; en bimeby dey 'gree 'mungs deyse'f dat dey better make up wid Brer Rabbit, en see ef dey can't fine out how come he so lucky.

Other books

Draw the Brisbane Line by P.A. Fenton
Winter In August by Mia Villano
By The Shores Of Silver Lake by Wilder, Laura Ingalls