response. “Well, ef ’twuz, you kin des go up dar ter de big house an’
tell um all dat you saved my life, kaze dat what you done. Dey ain’t
no tellin’ what would ’a’ happen ef you hadn’t ’a’ come creepin’ ’long
an’ woke me up, kaze whiles I wuz dozin’ dar I wuz on a train, an’
de bullgine look like it wuz runnin’ away. ’Twant one er deze yer
’commydatin’ trains, kaze de man what tuck up de tickets say he wa’n’t
in no hurry fer ter see how fur anybody gwine; dey wuz all boun’ fer de
same place, an’ when dey got dar dey’d know it. De kyars wuz lined wid
caliker, an’ de brakeman wuz made out’n straw. It went on, it did, an’
de bullgine run faster an’ faster twel it run so fast you couldn’t hear
it toot fer brakes, an’ des ’bout de time dat eve’ything wuz a gittin’
smashed up, here you come an’ wokened me--an’ a mighty good thing, kaze
ef I’d ’a’ stayed on dat train dey wouldn’t ’a’ been ’nough er me left
fer de congergation ter sing a song over. I’m mighty thankful dat dey’s
somebody got sense ’nough fer ter come ’long an’ skeer me out er my
troubles.”
This statement was intended to change the course of the little boy’s
thoughts--to cause him to forget that he had been frightened--and it was
quite successful, for he began to talk about dreams in general, telling
some peculiar ones of his own, such as children have.
“Talkin’ ’bout dreams,” remarked Uncle Remus, “it put me in min’ er de
man what been sick off an’ on, an’ he hatter be mighty keerful er his
eatin’. One night he had a dream. It seemed like dat somebody come ’long
an’ gi’ him a great big hunk er ol’ time ginger-cake, an’ it smell so
sweet an’ taste so good dat he e’t ’bout a poun’. He wuz eatin’ it in his
sleep, but de dream wuz so natchal dat de nex’ mornin’ dey hatter sen’
fer de doctor, an’ ’twuz e’en ’bout all dey could do fer ter pull ’im
thoo. De doctor gun ’im all de truck what he had in his saddle-bags, an’
’low dat he b’lieve in his soul he’d hatter sen’ fer mo’, an’ den atter
dat he tuck an’ lay down de law ter de man. He say dat whatsomever else
he mought do, he better not eat no ginger-cakes in his dreams, kaze de
next un ’ud be sho’ fer ter take ’im off spite er all de doctor truck in
de roun’ worl’.”
Then the little boy told of a dream he had had. It seems that he had
slipped into the pantry, when no one was looking, and had taken a piece
of apple-pie. It wasn’t stealing, he said, for he knew that if he asked
his grandmother for a piece she would have given it to him; but he didn’t
want to bother her while she was talking to the sewing-woman, and so he
just went in the pantry and got it for himself. Perhaps he took a larger
piece than his grandmother would have given him, but he had nothing to
measure it by, and so he was compelled to guess how much she would have
given him.
“I boun’ you stretched yo’ guesser, honey,” said Uncle Remus dryly.
The child admitted with a laugh that perhaps he had, and he was very
sorry of it afterwards, for when he went to bed he dreamed that something
scratched at his door and made such a fuss that he was obliged to get up
and let it in. He didn’t wait to see what it was, but just flung the door
open, and ran and jumped back in bed, pulling the cover over his head. In
the dream he lay right still and listened. Everything was so quiet that
he became curious, and finally ventured to look out from under the cover.
Well, sir, the sight that he saw was enough, for between the door and the
bed a big black dog was lying. He seemed to be very tired, for his tongue
hung out long and red, and he was panting as though he had come a long
way in a very short time.
Uncle Remus groaned in sympathy. The black dog that gallops through a
dream with his tongue hanging out was one of his familiars. “I know dat
dog,” he said. “He got a bunch er white on de een’ er his tail, an’ his
eyeballs look like dey green in de dark. You call him an’ he’ll growl,
call him ag’in, an’ he’ll howl. I’d know dat dog ef I wuz ter see him
in de daytime--I’d know him so well dat I’d run an’ ax somebody fer ter
please, suh, wake me up, an’ do it mighty quick.”
The little boy didn’t know anything about that; what he did know was
that the dog in his dream, when he had rested himself, jumped up on the
bed, and began to nose at the cover, and he seemed to get mad when he
failed to pull it off the little boy. He tried and tried, and then he
seized a corner of the counterpane, or the spread, or whatever you call
it, and shook it with his teeth. When he grew tired of this, the little
boy could hear him smelling all about over the bed, and then he knew the
creature was hunting for the piece of apple-pie.
Uncle Remus agreed with the child about this. “’Cordin’ ter my notion,”
he said, “when folks slip ’roun’ an’ take dat what don’t b’long ter um er
dat what dey oughtn’t ter have by good rights, de big black dog is sho’
ter come ’roun’ growlin’ an’ smellin’ atter dey goes ter bed. Dey ain’t
no two ways ’bout dat. Dey may not know it, dey may be too sleepy fer ter
see ’im in der dreams, but de dog’s dar. Mo’ dan dat, dogs will growl an’
smell ’roun’ ef deyer in dreams er outer dreams. Dey got in de habits
er smellin’ ’way back yander in de days when ol’ Brer Rabbit had tooken
de place er de King one time when de King wanter go off down de country
fishin’.”
The little boy seemed to be very much interested in this information,
but while they were speaking of this curious habit that is common to
dogs, a hound that had been raised on the place came into view. He was
going at a gallop, as if he had important business to attend to, but when
he had galloped past a large tree, he paused suddenly, and turned back to
investigate it with his nose; and though he was entirely familiar with
the tree, it seemed to be new to him now, for he smelled all around the
trunk of it and was apparently much perplexed. Whatever information he
received was sufficient to cause him to forget all about the business
that had caused him to come galloping past the tree, for when his
investigation had ended, he turned about and went back the way he had
come.
“Now, you see dat, don’t you?” exclaimed Uncle Remus, with some show of
indignation. “Ain’t it des a little mo’ dan you wanter stan’? Here he
come, gwine, I dunner whar, des a-gallin’-up like he done been sent fer.
He come ter dat ar tree, he did, an’ went on by--spang by!--an’ den ’fo’
you kin bat yo’ eyeball, whiff, he turn roun’ an’ go ter smellin’ at de
tree, des like he ain’t never seed it befo’; an’ he must ’a’ got some
kind er news whar he smellin’ at, kaze atter he smell twel it look like
he gwineter smell de bark clean off, he fergit all ’bout whar he gwine,
an’ tuck his tail an’ go on back whar he come fum. Maybe you know sump’n
’bout it, honey--you an’ de balance er de white folks, but me--I’m bofe
blin’ an’ deff when it come ter tellin’ you what de dog foun’ out. I may
know what make ’im smell at de tree, but what news he got I never is ter
tell you.”
“Well, you know you said that dogs got in the habit of smelling away back
yonder when old Brother Rabbit took the place of the King, who had gone
fishing. I was wondering if that was a story.”
“Wuz you, honey?” Uncle Remus asked with a pleased smile. “Well, you
sho’ is got a dumplin’ eye fer de kinder tales what I tells. I b’lieve
ef I wuz ter take one er dem ol’-time tales an’ skin it an’ drag de hide
thoo de house an’ roun’ de lot--ef I wuz ter do dat, I b’lieve you’d open
up on de trail same ez ol’ Louder follerin’ on atter Brer Possum; I sho’
does!”
[Illustration: “_Some run fer ter dig bait_”]
The child seemed to appreciate the compliment, and he laughed in a way
that did the old negro a world of good. “I have found out one thing,”
said the little boy with emphasis. “Whenever you are hinting at a story,
you always look at me out of the corner of your eye, and there’s always a
funny little wrinkle at the corner of your mouth.”
“Well, suh!” exclaimed Uncle Remus, gleefully; “well, suh! an’ me
a-settin’ right here an’ doin’ dat a-way ’fo’ yo’ face an’ eyes! I
never would ’a’ ’speckted it. Peepin’ out de cornder er my eyeball, an’
a-wrinklin’ at de mouf! It look like I mus’ be gettin’ ol’ an’ fibble in
de min’.” He chuckled as proudly as if some one had given him a piece of
pound-cake of which he was very fond. But presently his chuckling ceased,
and he leaned back in his chair with a serious air.
“I dunno so mighty well ’bout all de yuther times you talkin’ ’bout,
honey, but when I say what I did ’bout ol’ Brer Rabbit takin’ de place
er der King, I sho’ had a tale in my min’. I say tale, but I dunner what
you’ll say ’bout it; you kin name it atter you git it. Well, way back
yander, mos’ ’fo’ de time when folks got in de habits er dreamin’ dreams,
dey wuz a King an’ dish yer King king’d it over all un um what wuz dar,
mo’ speshually de creeturs, kaze what folks dey wuz ain’t know nothin’
’tall ’bout whedder dey need any kingin’ er not; look like dey didn’t
count.
“Well, dish yer King what I’m a-tellin’ you ’bout had purty well grow’d
up at de business, and de time come when he got mighty tired er settin’
in one place an’ hol’in’ a crown on his head fer ter keep it fum fallin’
on de flo’. He say ter hisse’f dat he wanter git out an’ git de fresh
a’r, an’ have some fun ’long wid dem what he been kingin’ over. He ’low
dat he wanter fix it so dat he ain’t a-keerin’ whedder school keep er no,
an’ he ax um all what de best thing he kin do. Well, one say one thing
an’ de yuther say t’other, but bimeby some un um chipped in an’ say dat
de best way ter have fun is ter go fishin’, an’ dis kinder hit de King
right in de middle er his notions.
“He jump up an’ crack his heels tergedder, he did, an’ he say dat dat’s
what he been thinkin’ ’bout all de time. A-fishin’ it wuz an’ a-fishin’
he’d go, ef his life wuz spar’d twel he kin git ter de creek. An’, wid
dat, dey wuz a mighty stirrin’ roun’ ’mongs’ dem what he wuz a-kingin’
over; some un um run off ter git fishin’-poles, an’ some run fer ter dig
bait, an’ some run fer ter git de bottle, an’ dar dey had it--you’d ’a’
thunk dat all creation wuz gwine fishin’.”
“Uncle Remus,” said the little boy, interrupting the old man, “what did
they want with a bottle?”
The old man looked at the child with a puzzled expression on his face.
“De bottle?” he asked with a sigh. “I b’lieve I did say sump’n ’bout de
bottle. I dunner whedder it ’uz a long white bottle er a chunky black un.
Dem what handed de tale down ter me ain’t say what kinder one it wuz, an’
I’m fear’d ter say right short off dat it ’uz one er de yuther. We’ll des
call it a plain, eve’yday bottle an’ let it go at dat.”
“But what did they want with a bottle, Uncle Remus?” persisted the little
boy.
“You ain’t never been fishin’, is you honey? An’ you ain’t never see
yo’ daddy go fishin’. All I know is dat whar dey’s any fishin’ gwine on,
you’ll fin’ a bottle some’rs in de neighborhoods ef you’ll scratch about
in de bushes. Well, de creeturs done like folks long ’fo’ folks got ter
doin’ dat a-way, an’ when dish yer King went a-fishin’, he had ter have a
bottle fer ter put de bait in.
“When eve’ything got good an’ ready, an’ de King wuz ’bout ter start
off, ol’ Brer Rabbit kinder hung his head on one side an’ set up a
snigger. De King, he look ’stonish an’ den he ’low, ‘What’s de joke, ol’
frien’?’ ‘Well,’ sez ol’ Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘it look like ter me dat
you ’bout ter go off an’ fergit sump’n. ’Tain’t none er my business,
but I couldn’t he’p fum gigglin’.’ De King, he say, ‘Up an’ out wid it,
ol’ frien’; le’s hear de wust dey is ter hear.’ Ol’ Brer Rabbit, he
say, sezee, ‘I dunner ef it makes any diffunce, but who gwine ter do de
kingin’ whiles you gone a-fishin’?’
[Illustration: “_De King … sot right flat in a cheer_”]
“Well, de King look like he wuz might’ly tuck back; he flung up bofe
han’s an’ sot right flat in a cheer, an’ den he ’low, ‘I done got so dat
I’m de fergittines’ creetur what live on top er de groun’; you may hunt
high an’ low an’ you won’t never fin’ dem what kin beat me a-fergittin’.
Here I wuz ’bout fer ter go off an’ leave de whole business at sixes an’
sev’ms.’ Ol’ Brer Rabbit, he say, sezee, ‘Oh, I speck dat would ’a’ been
all right; dey ain’t likely ter be no harrycane, ner no fresh’ whiles you
gone.’ De King, he ’low, ‘Dat ain’t de thing; here I wuz ’bout ter go
off on a frolic an’ leave eve’ything fer ter look atter itse’f. What yo’
reckon folks would ’a’ said? I tell you now, dey ain’t no fun in bein’
a King, kaze yo’ time ain’t yo’ own, an’ you can’t turn roun’ widout
skinnin’ yo’ shins on some by-law er ’nother. ’Fo’ I go, ef go I does,
I got ter ’p’int somebody fer ter take my place an’ be King whiles I’m
gone; an’ ef ’twant dat, it’d be sump’n’ else, an’ so dar you go year in
an’ year out.’
[Illustration: “_Dey ain’t no fun in bein’ a King_”]
“He sot dar, he did, an’ study an’ study, an’ bimeby he say, sezee,
‘Brer Rabbit, s’posin’ you take my place whiles I’m gone? I’ll pay you
well; all you got to do is ter set right flat in a cheer an’ make a
dollar a day.’ Ol’ Brer Rabbit say dat would suit him mighty well, kaze
he bleeze fer ter have some money so he kin buy his ol’ ’oman a caliker
dress. Well, it ain’t take um long fer ter fix it all up, an’ so Brer
Rabbit, he done de kingin’ whiles de King gone a-fishin’. He made de job
a mighty easy one, kaze stidder settin’ up an’ hol’in’ de crown on his
head, he tied some strings on it an’ fix it so it’d stay on his head
widout hol’in’.
[Illustration: “_When de King went a-fishin’, he went de back way_”]
“Well, when de King went a-fishin’, he went de back way, an’ he ain’t
mo’ dan got out de gate twel ol’ Brer Rabbit hear a big rumpus in de
front yard. He hear sump’n’ growlin’ an’ howlin’ an’ whinin’, an’ he ax
what it wuz. Some er dem what wait on de King shuck der heads an’ say
dat ef de King wuz dar he wouldn’t pay no ’tention ter de racket fer der
longest; dey say dat de biggest kind er fuss ain’t ’sturb de King, kaze
he’d des set right flat an’ wait fer some un ter come tell somebody what
de rumpus is ’bout, an’ den dat yuther somebody would tell some un else,
an’ maybe ’bout dinner-time de King would fin’ out what gwine on, when
all he hatter do wuz ter look out de winder an’ see fer hisse’f.
[Illustration: “_Some er dem what wait on de King shuck der heads_”]
[Illustration: “_He lay back … wid dat ar crown on top er his head, an’
make out he takin’ a nap_”]
“When ol’ Brer Rabbit hear dat, he lay back ez well ez he kin wid
dat ar crown on top er his head, an’ make out he takin’ a nap. Atter
so long a time, word come dat Mr. Dog wuz out dar in de entry whar dey
all hatter wait at, an’ he sont word dat he bleeze ter see de King. Ol’
Brer Rabbit, he sot dar, he did, an’ do like he studyin’, an’ atter so
long a time, he tell um fer ter fetch Mr. Dog in an’ let him say what he
got ter say. Well, Mr. Dog come creepin’ in, he did, an’ he look mighty
’umble-come-tumble. He wuz so po’ dat it look like you can see eve’y bone
in his body an’ he wuz mangy lookin’. His head hung down, an’ he wuz
kinder shiverin’ like he wuz col’. Brer Rabbit make out he tryin’ fer ter
fix de crown on his head so it’ll set up straight, but all de time he wuz
lookin’ at Mr. Dog fer ter see ef he know’d ’im--an’ sho’ ’nough, he did,
kaze it uz de same Mr. Dog what done give him many a long chase.
[Illustration: “_Well Mr. Dog come creepin’ in_”]
“Well, Mr. Dog, he stood dar wid his head hangin’ down an’ his tail
’tween his legs. Eve’ything wuz so still an’ sollum dat he ’gun ter git
oneasy, an’ he look roun’ fer ter see ef dey’s any way fer ter git out
widout runnin’ over somebody. Dey ain’t no way, an’ so Mr. Dog sorter
wiggle de een’ er his tail fer ter show dat he ain’t mad, an’ he stood
dar ’specktin’ dat eve’y minnit would be de nex’.
“Bimeby, somebody say, ‘Who dat wanter see de King an’ what business is
he got wid ’im?’ When Mr. Dog hear dat, de howl dat he sot up mought ’a’
been heern a mile er mo’. He up an’ ’low, he did, dat him an’ all his
tribe, an’ mo’ speshually his kinnery, is been havin’ de wuss times dat
anybody ever is hear tell un. He say dat whar dey use ter git meat, dey
now gits bones, an’ mighty few er dem, an’ whar dey use ter be fat, dey
now has ter lean up ag’in de fence, an’ lean mighty hard, ef dey wanter
make a shadder. Mr. Dog had lots mo’ ter say, but de long an’ de short un
it wuz dat him an’ his kinnery wa’n’t treated right.
“Ol’ Brer Rabbit, which he playin’ King fer de day, he kinder study,
an’ den he cle’r up his th’oat an’ look sollum. He ax ef dey’s any
turkentime out dar in de back yard er in de cellar whar dey keep de
harness grease, an’ when dey say dey speck dey’s a drap er two lef’, ol’
Brer Rabbit tell um fer ter fetch it in, an’ den he tell um ter git a
poun’ er red pepper an’ mix it wid de turkentime. So said, so done. Dey
grab Mr. Dog, an’ rub de turkentime an’ red pepper frum head ter heel,
an’ when he holler dey run ’im out’n de place whar de kingin’ wuz done at.
[Illustration: “_Dey run im out’n de place whar de kingin’ wuz done at_”]
“Well, time went on, an’ one day follered an’er des like dey does now,
an’ Mr. Dog ain’t never gone back home, whar his tribe an’ his kinnery
wuz waitin’ fer ’im. Dey wait, an’ dey wait, an’ bimeby dey ’gun ter git
oneasy. Den dey wait some mo’ but it git so dey can’t stan’ it no longer,
an’ den a whole passel un um went ter de house whar dey do de kingin’
at, an’ make some inquirements ’bout Mr. Dog. Dem dat live at de King’s
house up an’ tell um dat Mr. Dog done come an’ gone. Dey say he got what
he come atter, an’ ef he ain’t gone back home dey dunner whar he is. Dey
tol’ ’bout de po’ mouf he put up, an’ dey say dat dey gun ’im purty well
all dat a gen’termun dog could ax fer.
“De yuther dogs say dat Mr. Dog ain’t never come back home, an’ dem
what live at de King’s house say dey mighty sorry fer ter hear sech bad
news, an’ dey tell de dogs dat dey better hunt ’im up an’ fin’ out what
he done wid dat what de king gi’ ’im. De dogs ax how dey gwineter know
’im when dey fin’ him, an’ dem at de King’s house say dey kin tell ’im
by de smell, kaze dey put some turkentime an’ red pepper on ’im fer ter
kill de fleas an’ kyo de bites. Well, sence dat day de yuther dogs been
huntin’ fer de dog what went ter de King’s house; an’ how does dey hunt?
’Tain’t no needs fer ter tell you, honey, kaze you know pine-blank ez
good ez I kin tell you. Sence dat day an’ hour dey been smellin’ fer ’im.
Dey smells on de groun’ fer ter see ef he been ’long dar; dey smells de
trees, de stumps, an’ de bushes, an’ when dey comes up wid an’er dog dat
dey ain’t never seed befo’, dey smells him good fer ter see ef he got any
red pepper an’ turkentime on ’im; an’ ef you’ll take notice dey sometimes
smells at a bush er a stump, an’ der bristles will rise, an’ dey’ll paw
de groun’ wid der fo’ feet, an’ likewise wid der behime feet, an’ growl
like deyer mad. When dey do dat, dey er tellin’ you what dey gwineter do
when dey git holt er dat dog what went to de King’s house an’ ain’t never
come back. I may be wrong, but I’ll bet you a white ally ag’in’ a big
long piece er mince-pie dat dey’ll be gwine on dat a-way when you git ter
be ol’ ez I is.”
[Illustration: “_A whole passel un um went ter de house whur dey do the
kingin_’”]
VII
HOW OLD CRANEY-CROW LOST HIS HEAD
One day, while Uncle Remus was preparing some wild cherry bark for
a decoction which he took for his rheumatism, the little boy, who
was an interested spectator of the proceedings, chanced to hear a
noise overhead. Looking up, he saw a very large bird flying over. He
immediately called the attention of Uncle Remus to the bird, which was
indeed a singular-looking creature. Its long neck stretched out in front,
and its long legs streamed out behind. Its wings were not very large,
and it had no tail to speak of, but it flew well and rapidly, apparently
anxious to reach its destination in the shortest possible time.
Uncle Remus shaded his eyes with his right hand as he gazed upward at
the bird. “Laws-a-mussy!” he exclaimed; “is dey anybody yever see de beat
er dat!” He knew well that the bird was a blue heron going to join its
kindred in Florida, but he affected great surprise at sight of the bird,
and continued to gaze at it as long as it remained in sight. He drew a
long breath when it could no longer be seen, and shook his head sadly.
“Ef she ain’t got no mo’ sense dan what her great-grandaddy had, I’m
mighty sorry fer her,” he declared.
“What kind of a bird is it, Uncle Remus?” the child inquired.
“Folks useter call um Craney-Crows, honey, but now dey ain’t got no name
but des plain blue crane--an’ I dunner whedder dey er wuff sech a big
name. Yit I ain’t got nothin’ ag’in um dat I knows un. Mo’ dan dat, when
I ermembers ’bout de ol’ grandaddy crane what drifted inter deze parts,
many’s de long time ago, ’twouldn’t take much fer ter make me feel right
sorry fer de whole kit an’ bilin’ un um--dey er sech start natchul fools.”
“But what is there to be sorry about, Uncle Remus?” the little boy
asked. He was rapidly learning to ask questions at the proper time.
“’Bout dey havin’ sech a little grain er sense, honey. Ef you know’d what
I does, I dunner ef you’d be tickled, er ef you’d feel sorry, an’ it’s de
same way wid me. When I think er dat ol’ Great-Grandaddy Crane, I dunner
whedder ter laugh er cry.”
This was small satisfaction to the little boy, and he was compelled to
inquire about it. As this was precisely what the old negro wanted him to
do, he lost nothing by being inquisitive. “Dey wuz one time--I dunno de
day, an’ I dunno de year, but ’twuz one time--dey come a big storm. De
win’ blow’d a harrycane, an’ de rain rained like all de sky an’ de clouds
in it done been turn ter water. De win’ blow’d so hard dat it lifted ol’
Craney-Crow fum his roost in de lagoons way down yan’ whar dey live at,
an’ fotch ’im up in deze parts, an’ when he come, he come a-whirlin’. De
win’ tuck ’im up, it did, an’ turn ’im roun’ an’ roun’, an’ when he lit
whar he did, he stagger des like he wuz drunk--you know how you feel when
you been turnin’ roun’ an’ roun’. Well, dat wuz de way wid him; he wuz so
drunk dat he hatter lean up ag’in a tree.
“But ’twant long ’fo’ he ’gun ter feel all right, an’ he look roun’ fer
ter see whar he at. He look an’ he look, but he ain’t fin’ out, kaze
he wuz a mighty fur ways fum home. Yit he feel de water half-way up
his legs, an’ ef ol’ Craney-Crow is in a place whar he kin do a little
wadin’, he kinder has de home-feelin’--you know how dat is yo’se’f. Well,
dar he wuz, a mighty fur ways fum home, an’ yit up ter his knees in
water, an’ he des stood dar, he did, an’ tuck his ease, hopin’ fer better
times bimeby. Now, de place whar he wuz blow’d ter wuz Long Cane Swamp,
an’ I wish I had time fer ter take you over dar an’ show you right whar
he wuz at when he lit, an’ I wish I had time fer ter take you all thoo de
Swamp an’ let you see fer yo’se’f what kinder Thing it is. ’Tain’t only
des a Swamp; it’s sump’n wuss ’n dat. You kin stan’ in de middle un it,
an’ mos’ hear it ketch its breff, an’ dat what make I say dat ’tain’t no
Swamp, fer all it look like one.
“Well, dar wuz ol’ Craney-Crow, an’ dar wuz de Thing you call de Swamp,
an’ bimeby de sun riz an’ let his lamp shine in dar in places; an den’
ol’ Craney-Crow had time fer ter look roun’ an’ see whar he wuz at. But
when he fin’ out, he ain’t know no mo’ dan what he know at fus’. Now, you
kin say what you please, an’ you kin laugh ef you wanter, but I’m a-gwine
ter tell you dat de Swamp know’d dat dey wuz somebody dar what ain’t
b’long dar. Ef you ax me how de Swamp know’d, I’ll shake my head an’
shet my eyes; an’ ef you ax me how I know it know’d, I’ll des laugh at
you. You’ll hatter take my word er leave it, I don’t keer which. But dar
’twuz. De Swamp know’d dat somebody wuz dar what ain’t b’long dar, an’ it
went ter sleep an’ had bad dreams, an’ it keep on havin’ dem dreams all
day long.”
The little boy had accepted Uncle Remus’s statements up to this point,
but when he said that the Swamp went to sleep and had bad dreams, the
child fairly gasped with doubtful astonishment. “Why, Uncle Remus, how
could a swamp go to sleep?”
“It’s des like I tell you, honey; you kin take my word er you kin leave
it. One way er de yuther, you won’t be no better off dan what you is
right now. All I know is dis, dat you can’t tell no tale ter dem what
don’t b’lieve it.”
“Do you believe it, Uncle Remus? Mother says the stories are fables.”
Thus the little boy was imbued, without knowing it, with the modern
spirit of scientific doubt.
“Does you speck I’d tell you a tale dat I don’t b’lieve? Why, I dunner
how I’d put de words one atter de yuther. Whensomever you ain’t b’lievin’
what I’m a-tellin’, honey, des le’ me know, an’ I won’t take de time an’
trouble fer ter tell it.”
“Well, tell me about the Swamp and old Craney-Crow,” said the little boy,
placing his small hand on Uncle Remus’s knee coaxingly.
“Well, suh, ef so be I must, den I shill. Whar wuz I? Yasser! de Swamp,
bein’ wide-awake all night long, is bleeze ter sleep endurin’ er de day,
an’ so, wid ol’ Craney-Crow stannin’ in de water, when de sun rise up, de
Swamp know dat sump’n wuz wrong, an’ it went ter sleep an’ had mighty bad
dreams. De sun riz an’ riz; it come up on one side er de Swamp, an’ atter
so long a time stood over it an’ look down fer ter see what de matter.
But bright ez de lamp er de sun wuz, it can’t light up de Swamp, an’ so
it went on over an’ went down on t’er side.