WHEN Miss Sallys little boy went to Uncle Remus the next
night to hear the conclusion of the adventure in which the Rabbit
made a riding-horse of the Fox to the great enjoyment and
gratification of Miss Meadows and the girls, he found the old man
in a bad humor.
I aint tellin no tales ter bad chilluns, said Uncle Remus curtly.
But, Uncle Remus, I aint bad, said the little boy plaintively.
Who dat chunkin dem chickens dis mawnin? Who dat knockin
out fokess eyes wid dat Yallerbammer sling des fo, dinner? Who
dat sickin dat pinter puppy atter my pig? Who dat scatterin my
ingun sets? Who dat flingin rocks on top er my house, wich a little
mo en one un em would er drap spang on my head?
Well, now, Uncle Remus, I didnt go to do it. I wont do so any
more. Please, Uncle Remus, if you will tell me, Ill run to the house
and bring you some tea-cakes.
Seein ums bettern hearin tell un um, replied the old man, the
severity of his countenance relaxing somewhat; but the little boy
darted out, and in a few minutes came running back with his
pockets full and his hands full.
I lay yo mammy ll spishun dat de rats stummucks is widenin in
dis neighborhood wen she come fer ter count up er cakes, said
Uncle Remus, with a chuckle. Deze, he continued, dividing the
cakes into two equal partsdese Ill tackle now, en dese Ill lay by
Lemme see. I mos dismember wharbouts Brer Fox en Brer
The rabbit rode the fox to Miss Meadowss, and hitched him to
the horse-rack, said the little boy.
Wy cose he did, said Uncle Remus. Cose he did. Well, Brer
Rabbit rid Brer Fox up, he did, en tied im to de rack, en den sot
out in de peazzer wid de gals a smokin er his seegyar wid mo
proudness dan wat you mos ever see. Dey talk, en dey sing, en dey
play on de peanner, de gals did, twel bimeby hit come time fer
Brer Rabbit fer to be gwine, en he tell urn all good-by, en strut out
to de boss-rack sames ef he wuz de king er de patter-rollers, en
den he mount Brer Fox en ride off.
Brer Fox aint sayin nuthin tall. He des rack off, he did, en keep
his mouf shet, en Brer Rabbit knowd der wuz bizness cookin up
fer him, en he feel monstus skittish. Brer Fox amble on twel he git
in de long lane, outer sight er Miss Meadowss house, en den he
tun loose, he did. He rip en he rar, en he cuss, en he swar; he snort
en he cavort.
What was he doing that for, Uncle Remus? the little boy
He wuz tryin fer ter fling Brer Rabbit offn his back, bless yo
soul! But he des might ez well er rastle wid his own shadder. Every
time he hump hissef Brer Rabbit slap de spurrers in im, en dar dey
had it, up en down. Brer Fox farly to up de groun he did, en he
jump so high en he jump so quick dat he mighty nigh snatch his
own tail off. Dey kep on gwine on dis way twel bimeby Brer Fox
lay down en roll over, he did, en dis sorter onsettle Brer Rabbit,
but by de time Brer Fox got back on his footses agin, Brer Rabbit
wuz gwine thoo de underbresh mo samer dan a race-hoss. Brer
Fox he lit out atter im, he did, en he push Brer Rabbit so close dat
it wuz bout all he could do fer ter git in a holler tree. Hole too
little fer Brer Fox fer ter git in, en he hatter lay down en res en
gedder his mine tergedder.
While he wuz layin dar, Mr. Buzzard come floppin long, en
seein Brer Fox stretch out on de groan, he lit en view de
premusses. Den Mr. Buzzard sorter shake his wing, en put his head
on one side, en say to hissef like, sezee:
Brer Fox dead, en I so sorry, sezee.
No I aint dead, nudder, sez Brer Fox, sezee. I got ole man
Rabbit pent up in yer, sezee, en Im a gwine ter git im dis time ef
it take twel Chrismus, sezee.
Den, atter some mo palaver, Brer Fox make a bargain dat Mr.
Buzzard wuz ter watch de hole, en keep Brer Rabbit dar wiles Brer
Fox went atter his axe. Den Brer Fox, he lope off, he did, en Mr.
Buzzard, he tuck up his stan at de hole. Bimeby, wen all git still,
Brer Rabbit sorter scramble down close ter de hole, he did, en
Brer Fox! Oh! Brer Fox!
Brer Fox done gone, en nobody say nuthin. Den Brer Rabbit
squall out like he wuz mad; sezee:
You neednt talk less you wanter, sezee; I knows youer dar, en I
aint keerin, sezee. I des wanter tell you dat I wish mighty bad
Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz here, sezee.
Den Mr. Bnzzard try ter talk like Brer Fox:
Wat you want wid Mr. Buzzard? sezee.
Oh, nuthin in tickler, cep deres de fattes gray squirl in yer dat
ever I see, sezee, en ef Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz roun hed be
mighty glad fer ter git im, sezee.
How Mr. Buzzard gwine ter git im? sez de Buzzard, sezee.
Well, dars a little hole roun on de udder side er de tree, sez Brer
Rabbit, sezee, en ef Brer Tukkey Buzzard wuz here so he could
take up his stan dar, sezee, Id drive dat squirl out, sezee.
Drive im out, den, sez Mr. Buzzard, sezee, en Ill see dat Brer
Tukkey Buzzard gits im, sezee.
Den Brer Rabbit kick up a racket, like he wer drivin sumpin out,
en Mr. Buzzard he rush roun fer ter ketch de squirl, en Brer
Rabbit, he dash out, he did, en he des fly fer home.
At this point Uncle Remus took one of the teacakes, held his head
back, opened his mouth, dropped the cake in with a sudden
motion, looked at the little boy with an expression of
astonishment, and then closed his eyes, and begun to chew,
mumbling as an accompaniment the plaintive tune of Dont you
Grieve atter Me.
The seance was over; but, before the little boy went into the big
house, Uncle Remus laid his rough hand tenderly on the childs
shoulder, and re-marked, in a confidential tone:
Honey, you mus git up soon Chrismus mawnin en open de do;
kase Im gwineter bounce in on Marse John en Miss Sally, en
holler Chrismus gif des like I useter endurin de farmin days fo de
war, wen ole Miss wuz live. I bound dey dont fergit de ole
nigger, nudder. Wen you hear me callin de pigs, honey, you des
hop up en onfassen de do. I lay Ill give Marse John one er dese yer