speshually on Sundays, an’ he ain’t had no better sense dan ter cluck up
his chickens des ter show um what a nice passel he had. When dis happen,
Brer Wolf under-jaw would trimble, an’ Brer Fox would dribble at de mouf
same ez a baby what cuttin’ his toofies. Ez fer Brer Rabbit, he’d des
laugh, an’ nobody ain’t know what he laughin’ at. It went on dis way twel
it look like natur’ can’t stan’ it, an’ den, bimeby, one night when de
moon ain’t shinin’, Brer Rabbit take a notion dat he’d call on Mr. Man;
but when he got ter de place, Mr. Man done gone ter bed. De lights wuz
all out, an’ de dog wuz quiled up un’ de house soun’ asleep.
“Brer Rabbit shake his head. He ’low, ‘Sholy dey’s sump’n wrong, kaze
allers, when I come, Mr. Man call up his chickens whar I kin look at um.’
I dunner what de matter wid ’im. An’ I don’t see no chickens, needer. I
boun’ you sump’n done happen, an’ nobody ain’t tell me de news, kaze dey
know how sorry I’d be. Ef I could git in de house, I’d go in dar an’ see
ef ever’thing is all right; but I can’t git in.’
“He walk all ’roun’, he did, but he ain’t see nobody. He wuz so skeer’d
he’d wake um up dat he walk on his tippy-toes. He ’low, ‘Ef Mr. Man
know’d I wuz here, he’d come out an’ show me his chickens, an’ I des
might ez well look in an’ see ef deyer all right.’ Wid dat he went ter de
chicken-house an’ peep in, but he can’t see nothin’. He went ter de door,
an’ foun’ it onlocked. Brer Rabbit grin, he did, an’ ’low, ‘Mr. Man mos’
know’d dat I’d be ’long some time ter-day, an’ done gone an’ lef’ his
chicken-house open so I kin see his pullets--an’ he know’d dat ef I can’t
see um, I’d wanter feel um fer ter see how slick an’ purty dey is.’
[Illustration: “_Went off home des ez gayly ez a colt in a barley
patch_”]
“Brer Rabbit slap hisse’f on de leg an’ laugh fit ter kill. He ain’t
make fuss nuff fer ter wake Mr. Man, but he woke de fat hens an’ de slick
pullets, an’ dey ax one an’er what de name er goodness is de matter. Brer
Rabbit laugh an’ say ter hisse’f dat ef he’d ’a’ brung a bag, it’d make
a good overcoat fer four er five er de fat hens, an’ six er sev’m er de
slick pullets. Den he ’low, ‘Why, what is I thinkin’ ’bout? I got a bag
in my han’, an’ I fergit dat I had it. It’s mighty lucky fer de chickens
dat I fotch it, kaze a little mo’--an’ dey’d ’a’ been friz stiff!’ So he
scoop in de bag ez many ez he kin tote. He ’low, ‘I’ll take um home an’
kinder git um warm, an’ ter-morrer Mr. Man kin have um back--ef he want
um.’ an’ wid dat he mighty nigh choke hisse’f tryin’ fer ter keep fum
laughin’. De chickens kinder flutter, but dey ain’t make much fuss, an’
Brer Rabbit flung de sack ’cross his shoulders an’ went off home des ez
gayly ez a colt in a barley patch.”
“Wouldn’t you call that stealing, Uncle Remus?” inquired the little boy
very seriously.
“Ef Brer Rabbit had ’a’ been folks, it’d be called stealin’, but you
know mighty well dat de creeturs dunno de diffunce ’twix’ takin’ an’
stealin’. When it come ter dat, dey’s a-plenty folks dat ain’t know de
diffunce, an’ how you gwineter blame de creeturs?” Uncle Remus paused to
see what comment the little boy would make, but he was silent, though it
is doubtful if he was satisfied.
“Brer Rabbit tuck de chickens on home, he did, an’ made way wid um. Now,
dat wuz de las’ er de chickens, but des de beginnin’s er de feathers. Ol’
Miss Rabbit, she wanter burn um in de fier, but Brer Rabbit say de whole
neighborhood would smell um, an’ he ’low dat he got a better way dan dat.
So, nex’ mornin’ atter brekkus, he borried a bag fum ol’ Brer Wolf, an’
inter dis he stuff de feathers, an’ start off down de road.
“Well, suh, ez luck would have it, Brer Rabbit hatter pass by Brer Fox
house, an’ who should be stannin’ at de gate wid his walkin’-cane in
han’, but Brer Fox? Brer Fox, he fetched a bow, wid, ‘Brer Rabbit, whar
you gwine?’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘Ef I had de win’, Brer Fox, I’d be gwine
to mill. Dish yer’s a turrible load I got, an’ I dunner how soon I’ll gi’
out. I ain’t strong in de back an’ limber in de knees like I useter be,
Brer Fox. You may be holdin’ yo’ own, an’ I hope you is, but I’m on de
down grade, dey ain’t no two ways ’bout dat.’ Wid dat, he sot de bag down
by de side er de road, an’ wipe his face wid his hankcher.
[Illustration: “‘_Brer Rabbit, whar you gwine?_’”]
“Brer Fox, he come on whar Brer Rabbit wuz a-settin’ at, an’ ax ef it’s
corn er wheat. Brer Rabbit ’low dat tain’t na’er one; it’s des some
stuff dat he gwine ter sell ter de miller. Brer Fox, he want ter know
what ’tis so bad he ain’t know what ter do, an’ he up an’ ax Brer Rabbit
p’intedly. Brer Rabbit say he fear’d ter tell ’im kaze de truck what he
got in de bag is de onliest way he kin make big money. Brer Fox vow he
won’t tell nobody, an’ den Brer Rabbit say dat bein’ ez him an’ Brer Fox
is sech good frien’s--neighbors, ez you might say--he don’t min’ tellin’
’im, kaze he know dat atter Brer Fox done prommus, he won’t breave a word
’bout it. Den he say dat de truck what he got in de bag is roots er de
Winniannimus grass, an’ when deyer groun’ up at de mill, dey er wuff nine
dollars a poun’.
“Dis make Brer Fox open his eyes. He felt de heft er de bag, he did, an’
he say dat it’s mighty light, an’ he dunner what make Brer Rabbit pant
an’ grunt when ’tain’t no heftier dan what it is.
“Brer Rabbit ’low dat de bag wouldn’t ’a’ felt heavy ter him ef he wuz
big an’ strong like Brer Fox. Dat kinder talk make Brer Fox feel biggity,
an’ he ’low dat he’ll tote de bag ter mill ef Brer Rabbit feel like it’s
too heavy. Brer Rabbit say he’ll be mighty much erbleeged, an’ be glad
fer ter pay Brer Fox sump’n ter boot. An’ so, off dey put down de road,
Brer Fox a-trottin’ an’ Brer Rabbit gwine in a canter.
“Brer Fox ax what dey does wid de Winniannimus grass atter dey gits it
groun’ up at de mill. Brer Rabbit ’low dat rich folks buys it fer ter
make Whipmewhopme puddin’. Brer Fox say he’ll take some home when de
miller git it groun’ an’ see how it tas’es, an’ Brer Rabbit say he’s mo’
dan welcome. Atter dey been gwine on some little time, Brer Rabbit look
back an’ see Mr. Man a-comin’, an’ he say ter Brer Fox, sezee, ‘Brer Fox,
you is de outdoinist man I ever is see. You done got me plum’ wo’ out,
an’ I’m bleeze ter take a res’. You go on an’ I’ll ketch up wid you ef I
kin; ef not, des wait fer me at de mill.’ Brer Fox ’low, ‘Shucks, Brer
Rabbit! you ain’t ’quainted wid me; you dunner nothin’ ’tall ’bout me. I
kin go on dis a-way all day long an’ half de night.’ Brer Rabbit roll his
big eyes, an’ say, ‘Well, suh!’
“An’ den he sot down by de side er de road, an’ ’twuz all he kin do fer
ter keep fum bustin’ out in a big laugh.
“Bimeby, Mr. Man come ’long an’ say, ‘Who dat wid de big bag on his
back?’ Brer Rabbit make answer dat it’s Brer Fox. Mr. Man say, ‘What he
got in his bag?’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘I ax ’im, an’ he say it’s some kinder
grass what he takin’ ter de mill fer ter git groun’, but I seed mo’ dan
one chicken feather stickin’ ter de bag.’ Mr. Man say, ‘Den he’s de chap
what tuck an’ tuck my fat hens an’ my slick pullets, an’ I’ll make ’im
sorry dat he yever is see a chicken.’
“Wid dat he put out atter Brer Fox, an’ Brer Rabbit, he put out too,
but he stay in de bushes, so dat nobody can’t see ’im. Mr. Man he cotch
up wid Brer Fox, an’ ax ’im what he got in de bag. Brer Fox say he got
Winniannimus grass what he gwineter have groun’ at de mill. Mr. Man say
he wanter see what Winniannimus grass look like. Brer Fox sot de bag
down an’ say dat when it’s groun’ up de rich folks buys it fer ter make
Whipmewhopme puddin’. Mr. Man open de bag, an’ dey wa’n’t nothin’ in it
but chicken feathers. He ’low, ‘Whipmewhopme puddin’! I’ll whip you an’
whop you,’ an’ wid dat he grab Brer Fox in de collar, an’ mighty nigh
frailed de life out’n ’im.
“Brer Rabbit seed it well done, an’ he des fell down in de bushes an’
roll an’ laugh twel he can’t laugh no mo’.”
“Well, I don’t see why he should think it was funny,” the little boy
remarked.
Uncle Remus looked hard at this modern little boy before he answered:
“Maybe you dunno Brer Fox, honey; I don’t speck you hear talk er de way
he try ter git de inturn on Brer Rabbit. But on top er dat, Brer Rabbit
wuz so ticklish dat mos’ anything would make ’im laugh. It sholy wuz
scan’lous de way Brer Rabbit kin laugh.”
V
LITTLE MISTER CRICKET AND THE OTHER CREATURES
Uncle Remus was very anxious to know what the child thought about
the story of Brother Rabbit and the chicken feathers, but he made no
inquiries; he was willing to let the youngster’s preferences show
themselves without any urging on his part.
When the little boy did speak, he made no reference to Brother Rabbit
and the chicken feathers: his thoughts were elsewhere. “Uncle Remus,” he
said, “I never saw a cricket. What do they look like?”
“You ain’t never see no cricket!” exclaimed Uncle Remus, with a
great display of amazement. “Well, dat bangs my time! What yo’ ma an’
pa--speshually yo’ pa--what dey been doin’ all deze lonesome years dat
they ain’t never show’d you no cricket? How dey speck you ter git ’long
in de worl’ ef dey ain’t gwine ter tell you ’bout de things you oughter
know, an’ show you de things dat you oughter see? You ain’t never see no
cricket, an’ here you is mos’ ready ter shave off de down on your face!”
The child blushed. “Why, I have no down on my face, Uncle Remus,” he
protested.
“Well, you will have some er deze days, an’ den what will folks think uv
a great big man what ain’t never seed no cricket?”
“Mother has never seen one,” replied the little boy, somewhat
triumphantly.
“She’s a lady,” Uncle Remus explained, “an’ dat’s diffunt. She been
brung up in ’Lantamatantarum, an’ I speck she’d fall down an’ faint ef
she wuz ter see one. Folks ain’t like dey use ter be; in my day an’ time,
ef man er boy wuz ter say dat he ain’t never seed no cricket, dem what he
tol’ de news ter would git up an’ go ’way fum ’im; but deze days I boun’
you dey’d huddle up close ’roun’ ’im, an’ j’ine in wid ’im, an’ say dey
ain’t never is seed one nudder.”
“If you had never seen one, you wouldn’t talk that way, Uncle Remus,”
remarked the little boy quite seriously. “How can I help myself, if I
have never seen one? It isn’t my fault, is it?”
“Tooby sho’ it ain’t, honey. Nobody ain’t blamin’ you. Yit when I see a
great big boy what ain’t never seed no cricket, I bleeze ter ax myse’f
whar he come fum an’ what he been doin’. I boun’ ef you’d ’a’ been wid
yo’ gran’mammy an me you’d ’a’ seed crickets twel you got tired er seein’
um. Dat’s de kinder folks we-all is. ’Tain’t no trouble ter we-all ter
show chillun what dey oughter see. I bet you, you’ pa know’d what a
cricket wuz long ’fo’ he wuz ol’ ez you is. Dey wa’n’t nothin’ fer ter
hender ’im. Miss Sally des turned ’im over ter me, an’ say, ‘Don’t let
’im git hurted,’ an’ dar he wuz. Ef he ain’t seed all dey wuz ter be
seed, it ’uz kaze it ’uz in a show, an’ de show in town whar he can’t git
at it. Dat’s de way we done wid him, an’ dat’s de way I’d like ter do wid
you. It’s a mighty pity you wa’n’t brung up here at home, stidder up dar
in ’Lantamatantarum, whar dey ain’t nothin’ ’tall but dust, an’ mud, an’
money. De folks up dar ain’t want de mud an’ dust, an’ de mo’ dey wash
it off de mo’ dey gits on um; but dey does want de money, an’ de mo’ dey
scuffles fer it, de mo’ dey has ter scuffle.”
“Is a cricket like a grasshopper, Uncle Remus?” inquired the little boy,
who took no interest in the old man’s prejudice against Atlanta.
“Dey mos’ly is, an’ den ag’in dey mos’ly ain’t. Befo’ de time dat
ol’ Grandaddy Cricket kick down de chimbley, dey wa’n’t no mo’ like
grasshoppers dan I’m like a steer, but atter dat, when he git his knees
on wrongsudouterds, dey sorter look like grasshoppers ’cepin’ when you
look at um right close, an’ den dey don’t look like um.
“Dey got lots mo’ sense dan de yuther crawlin’ an’ hoppin’ creeturs. Dey
ought not ter be put wid de hoppin’ creeturs, kaze dey don’t b’long wid
’um, an’ dey wouldn’t be a-hoppin’ in deze days ef ol’ Grandaddy Cricket
hadn’t ’a’ got cripple’ when he kick de chimbley down. In de times when
ol’ Boss Elephant, an’ Brer Lion, an’ Brer Tiger wuz meanderin’ roun’ in
deze parts, little Mr. Cricket wuz on mighty good terms wid um. Ez dey
say er folks, he stood mighty well whar dey know’d ’im--mighty well--an’
he wuz ’bout de sharpes’ er de whole caboodle, ef you’ll leave out de
name er Brer Rabbit.
“It come ’bout one time dat de creeturs wuz all sunnin’ deyse’f--it
mought er been Sunday fer all I know--an’ dey des stretch out an’ sot an’
sot roun’ lickin’ der chops, an’ blinkin’ der eyes, an’ combin’ der ha’r.
Mr. Elephant wuz swingin’ hisse’f backerds an’ forerds, an’ flingin’ de
san’ on his back fer ter keep off de flies, an’ all de res’ wuz gwine on
’cordin’ ter der breed an’ need.
“Ef you’ll watch right close, honey, you’ll fin’ out fer yo’se’f
dat when folks ain’t got much ter do, an’ little er nothin’ fer ter
talk ’bout, dey’ll soon git ter braggin’, an’ dat’s des de way wid de
creeturs. Brer Fox start it up; he say, ‘Gents, ’fo’ I fergit it off
’n my min’, I wanter tell you dat I’m de swiffes’ one in dis bunch.’
Mr. Elephant wink one er his little eyeballs, an’ fling his snout in de
a’r an’ whispered--an’ you mought ’a’ hearn dat whisper a mile--‘I’m de
strenkiest; I wanter call yo’ ’tention ter dat.’ Mr. Lion shuck his mane
an’ showed his tushes. He say, ‘Don’t fergit dat I’m de King er all de
creetur tribe.’ Mr. Tiger stretched hisse’f an’ gap’d. He say, ‘I’m de
purtiest an’ de mos’ servigrous.’
“Fum one ter de yuther de braggin’ went roun’. Ef ’twant dis it uz dat,
an’ ef ’twant dat, ’twuz de yuther. Dey went on so twel bimeby little Mr.
Cricket chirped up an’ say he kin make all un um run dey heads off, fum
ol’ Mr. Elephant down ter de las’ one. Dey all laugh like it’s a good
joke, an’ Brer Fox he ’low dat he had de idee dat dey wuz all doin’ some
monstus tall braggin’, but Mr. Cricket wuz away ahead er de whole gang,
an’ den he say, ‘How you gwineter begin fer ter commence fer ter do all
deze great deeds an’ didoes?’ Mr. Cricket say, ‘Des gi’ me time; gi’ me
time, an’ yo’ll all hear fum me--yo’ll hear, but you won’t stop fer ter
lis’n’, an’ den he work his jaws fer all de worl’ like Brer Rabbit does
when he’s chawin’ terbacker.
[Illustration: “_Brer Fox, say, ‘Gents, … I wanter tell you dat I’m de
swiffes’ one in dis bunch_’”]
“Now, ol’ Brer Rabbit know’d dat Mr. Cricket wuz up ter some sharp trick
er n’er, an’ so he wait twel he kin have a confab wid ’im. He ain’t had
long ter wait, kaze Mr. Crickley Cricket make up his min’ dat Brer Rabbit
wuz de one what kin he’p him out. Dey bofe wanter see one an’er, an’
when dat’s de case, dey ain’t much trouble ’bout it. Dey soon got off by
deyse’f, an’ Brer Rabbit ’low dat Mr. Cricket got a mighty big job on his
han’s, an’ Mr. Cricket, he say it’s sech a big job dat he can’t git thoo
wid it less’n Brer Rabbit will he’p ’im out. Mr. Cricket say ’tain’t much
he gwine ter ax er Brer Rabbit, but little ez ’tis, he bleeze ter ax it.
Brer Rabbit look at ’im right hard an’ twis’ his mustache. ‘Out wid it,
Mr. Cricket; out wid it, an’ I’ll see ef I kin he’p you out. But I want
you ter take notice dat all de yuthers is got a crow fer ter pick wid me,
on account er de way I been doin’.’
Mr. Cricket chirp up, ‘So I hear, Brer Rabbit--so I hear,’ an’ den he
went on fer ter tell Brer Rabbit what he want ’im ter do. Brer Rabbit
laugh, he did, an’ say, ‘Ef dat’s all you want, Mr. Cricket, you kin
count me in, kaze I laid off fer ter he’p you lot’s mo’ dan dat--lots
mo’.’ Mr. Cricket say dat’ll be de greates’ plenty, an’ wid dat dey went
off home fer ter kinder res’ deyse’f, but not ’fo’ dey fix on a day when
dey’ll have time fer ter work der trick on de yuther creeturs.
“Dey ’greed on de day, an’ dat day dey met, an’ atter colloguin’
tergedder, off dey put ter de place whar dey ’spected ter fin’ de yuther
creeturs. De fust one dey meet wuz ol’ Mr. Elephant. Dey pass de time er
day, dey did, an’ Brer Rabbit say he got bad news. Mr. Elephant flung up
his snout like he ’stonish’d, an’ swung backerd an’ forerds like he ’bout
ter cry. Brer Rabbit ’low dat de win’ blow’d a hick’y-nut down right ’pon
top er Mr. Cricket an’ cripple ’im so he can’t go home, an’ he ax ef Mr.
Elephant won’t tote ’im ez fur ez he kin. Mr. Elephant say tooby sho’ he
will an’ be glad in de bargain, an’ so he kneel down, he did, an’ let Mr.
Cricket crawl on his back.
“But Mr. Cricket crawl furder dan de back; he crawl on Mr. Elephant
neck, an’ den inter his y’ear. Dis whar he wanter git, an’ soon ez he got
settle, he flutter his wings right fas’ an’ Mr. Elephant think de win’
is blowin’ thoo de trees. Mr. Cricket flutter his wings harder, an’ Mr.
Elephant think dey’s a storm cornin’ up. He splunge thoo de bushes, he
did, an’ ef Mr. Cricket hadn’t ’a’ been inside his year, he’d ’a’ been
knocked off by de lim’s er de trees. Ez ’twuz, he sot back an’ laugh, an’
say ter hisse’f dat Mr. Elephant ain’t hear nothin’ ’tall ter what he
will hear.
“Wid dat, he chune up his whistle, an’ started fer ter blow on it. He
blow’d kinder low ter begin wid, an’ den he ’gun ter git louder. An’ de
louder he got de mo’ he skeer’d Mr. Elephant, an’ he went splungin’ thoo
de woods same ez a harrycane. He went so fas’ dat he come mighty nigh
runnin’ over King Lion whiles he wuz talkin’ ter ol’ Brer Tiger. He ain’t
hear ’um say, ‘Mr. Elephant, whar you gwine?’ but he stop right whar dey
wuz an’ ’gun ter turn roun’ an’ roun’. King Lion ax ’im what de matter,
an’ Mr. Elephant say he b’lieve he gwine ravin’ ’stracted. He ’low, ‘I
got a singin’ an’ a whistlin’ in one er my years, an’ I dunner which un
it’s in. Don’t you-all hear it?’
“Dey lis’n, dey did, an’ bless gracious, dey kin hear it. Ol’ King
Lion look like he ’stonished. He say, ‘It soun’s fer all de worl’, Mr.
Elephant, like you des ’bout ter bile over, an’ ef dat’s what yer gwine
ter do, I wanter be out’n de way--clean out’n de way.’
“Mr. Elephant turn roun’ an’ roun’, he did, an’ ef he’d ’a’ been
light-headed like some folks I knows, he’d ’a’ drapt right dar. Mr.
Cricket watch his chance, an’ when Mr. Elephant got nigh ter King Lion,
he tuck a flyin’ jump an’ lit right in King Lion’s mane, an’ ’twant long
’fo’ he made his way ter de year. But while he wuz makin’ his way dar Mr.
Elephant stopped whirlin’ roun’; he stop an’ lis’n, he did, an’ he ain’t
hear nothin’; he lis’n some mo’ an’ still he ain’t hear nothin’. He say,
‘I b’lieve in my soul dat I’m kyo’d! I’m mighty glad I met you-all, kaze
I know one un you is a doctor, an’ ever which un it is, he sho’ has done
de work.’
[Illustration: “_Mr. Elephant went splungin’ thoo de woods same ez a
harrycane_”]
“By dis time, Mr. Cricket had got in King Lion year, an’ ’twant long
’fo’ he start up his whistlin’. He whistle low fer ter start wid, an’
King Lion hol’ his head sideways an’ lis’n. He say, ‘I still hears it,
Mr. Elephant, an’ ef youer kyo’d I done cotch de thing you had.’ Mr.
Cricket went a little louder, an’ King Lion ’gun ter back off like he had
business ter ten’ ter. Mr. Tiger say, ‘Whar you gwine? I hope you ain’t
skeer’d er Brer Elephant, kaze he ain’t gwineter hurt you. Ef you gwine
any whar, you better turn ’roun’ an’ go right.’
“But King Lion ain’t pay no ’tention ter Mr. Tiger; he des back off, he
did, an’ wave his tail an’ shake his mane. Mr. Cricket ’gun ter whistle
louder an’ flutter his wings, an’ make um zoon like a locus’. King Lion
say, ‘I hear de win’ a-blowin’ an’ I better git home ter my wife an’
chillun,’ an’ off he put, runnin’ like he wuz gwine atter de doctor. Mr.
Tiger laugh, an’ say dat some folks is so funny he dunner what ter make
un um. Dey stayed dar confabbin’, an’ bimeby dey hear a fuss, an’ here
come King Lion gwine ez hard ez he kin. Tryin’ fer ter git away fum de
fuss in his year, he had run all roun’ twel he come back ag’in ter whar
he start fum. He had his tongue out, an’ his tail wuz droopin’; he wuz
mighty nigh wo’ out.
“He say, ‘Heyo! what you-all doin’ here? I had de idee dat I lef’ you
back yander whar I come fum.’ Mr. Elephant ’low, ‘We ain’t skacely move
out ’n our tracks. You run away an’ lef’ us, an’ here you is back; what
de name er goodness is de matter wid you?’ King Lion say, ‘I done got a
whistlin’ in my head, an’ look like I can’t ’scape fum it. It’s in dar
yit, an’ I dunner what I’m gwine ter do ’bout it.’ Mr. Elephant say, ‘Do
like I done--stan’ it de bes’ you kin.’ Brer Tiger ’low, ‘I hear it, an’
it soun’ zactly like you wuz ’bout ter bile over, an’ when you does I
wanter be out’n de way.’
“By dat time little Mr. Cricket had done made a flyin’ jump an’ lit
on Mr. Tiger, an’ ’twant long ’fo’ he wuz snug in Mr. Tiger year. Mr.
Tiger lis’n, he did, an’ den he ’gun ter back off an’ wave his tail. Mr.
Elephant swing his snout, an’ say, ‘What de matter, Mr. Tiger? I hope you
ain’t thinkin’ ’bout leavin’ us.’ But Mr. Tiger wuz done gone. He des
flit away. Long ’bout dat time, Mr. Rabbit come lopin’ up, laughin’ fit
ter kill. He ’low, ‘Brer Cricket say he gwine ter make you-all run an’
dat’s des what he done. Bofe un you been runnin’ kaze I see you pantin’,
an’ ef you’ll des wait here, Mr. Cricket will fetch Mr. Tiger back safe
an’ soun’,’ an’ dey ain’t had ter wait long, nudder, kaze bimeby, here
come Mr. Tiger, tongue out an’ tail a-droopin’. He say, ‘Hello! how come
you-all ter outrun me? I got de idee dat you wuz back yander in de woods
whar I come fum,’ an’ den dey got ter laughin’ at ’im, an’ dey laugh twel
dey can’t laugh no mo’. Mr. Cricket jump outer Mr. Tiger’s year, an’ git
in de grass, an’ bimeby he show hisse’f.
“He come close up wid a ‘Howdy do, gents?’ an’ dey pass de time day wid
’im. Bimeby Mr. Elephant ’low, ‘Mr. Cricket, ain’t you say de yuther day
dat you wuz gwineter make we-all run?’ an’ Mr. Cricket, he make answer,
‘Why, I wouldn’t talk ’bout runnin’ ef I’d been runnin’ same ez what
you been doin’.’ Mr. Elephant swing his snout kinder slow an’ say, ‘How
you know I been runnin’?’ Mr. Cricket ’low, ‘I know bekaze ef I hadn’t
er helt on monstus tight, I’d ’a’ fell off; mo’ dan dat, ef I hadn’t er
stopped singin’ an’ whistlin’ you’d ’a’ been runnin’ yit.’ Mr. Elephant
shot his two little eyes, an’ say, ‘Well, suh!’”
“What did the others do?” the little boy inquired, when he was sure that
the story was ended.
“Dey mos’ly got ’way fum dem parts, kaze dey wuz skeer’d Mr. Cricket
would git on um ag’in. King Lion say he got ter look atter some fresh
meat what he got, Mr. Elephant say he bleeze ter go an’ cut some grass,
an’ Mr. Tiger ’low dat he got ter hunt up some vittles fer his fambly.
An’ ez fer Mr. Cricket, he clomb on Brer Rabbit’s back, an’ dey mosied
off somers, I dunner whar. All I know is dat dey giggle ez dey went.”
VI
WHEN BROTHER RABBIT WAS KING
One afternoon, while Uncle Remus was sitting in the sun, he felt so
comfortable and thankful for all the blessings that he enjoyed, and
for those that he had seen others enjoy, that he suddenly closed his
eyes; and he had no sooner done so than he drifted across the dim and
pleasant borderland that lies somewhere between sleeping and waking.
He must have drifted back again immediately, for it seemed that he was
not so fast asleep that he was unable to hear the sound of stealthy
footsteps somewhere near him. Instantly he was on the alert, but still
kept his eyes closed. He knew at once that the little boy was trying to
surprise him. The lad had improved much in health since coming to the
plantation, and with the growth of his strength had come a certain degree
of boisterousness that his mother thought was somewhat unusual, but which
his grandmother and Uncle Remus knew was the natural result of good
health.
By opening one eye a trifle, Uncle Remus could watch the youngster,
who was creeping, Indian-like, upon him, and this gave the old negro
an immense advantage, for just as the little boy was about to jump
at him, Uncle Remus straightened himself in his chair and uttered a
blood-curdling yell that would have alarmed a much larger and older
person than the lad. As a matter of fact, the little fellow was almost
paralyzed with fright, and for a moment or two could hardly get his
breath.
“Why, what in the world is the matter with you, Uncle Remus?” he asked as
soon as he could speak.