old-fashioned way--a way that was a source of constant amazement to Uncle
Remus, who could hardly understand how a child could act and talk like
a grown person. He regarded the child with a puzzled look, and closed
his eyes with a sigh. The child had no idea that Uncle Remus was either
puzzled or amazed, and so he harked back to the original problem. “Why is
the buzzard bald-headed?” he asked.
“Ef yo’ ma an’ yo’ gran’ma dunno,” replied Uncle Remus, “I speck I’ll
hatter tell you, an’ de bes’ way ter do dat is ter tell de tale dat de
ol’ folks tol’ der chillun. What make it mo’ easy, is dat dey ain’t
nothin’ er Brer Turkey Buzzard in it but his name. Ef he wuz in it
hisse’f, I don’t speck you’d stay long nuff fer ter hear me tell it.” The
child laughed, for he remembered how he wanted to run away from the tree
when old Mrs. Buzzard came flopping out. He laughed, but said nothing,
and Uncle Remus resumed:
“Dey wuz a time when Brer Rabbit live in one side uv a holler tree. One
day whiles he wuz gwine pirootin’ roun’, ol’ Miss Turkey Buzzard come
knockin’ at de do’, an’ when she don’t hear nothin’ she stuck ’er head
in an’ look roun’. Ter see ’er den an’ see ’er now you wouldn’t know she
wuz de same creetur. She had a fine top-knot on ’er head, bigger dan de
one on de freezlin’ hen, which de win’ done blow all her fedders de wrong
way. Yasser, she had a fine top-knot, an’ she ’uz purty good-lookin’.
“Well, suh, she peeped in, she did, an’ den she seed dat dey wa’n’t
nobody in dar, needer Grandaddy Owl, ner Brer Polecat, ner Brer
Rattlesnake. She take an’er look, an’ den in she walked, an’ made ’erself
mighty much at home. It ain’t take ol’ Miss Buzzard long fer ter fix
her nes’, kaze she ain’t want nothin’ but five sticks an’ a han’ful er
leaves. She went out an’ fotch um in an’ dar she wuz. She went right
straight ter housekeepin’, kaze she ain’t had ter put down no kyarpits,
ner straighten out no rugs, ner move de cheers roun’, ner wash no dishes.
“Well, long todes night, er maybe a little later, Brer Rabbit come home,
an’ like he mos’ allers done, he come a-laughin’. He been projickin’ wid
some er de yuther creeturs, an he wuz mighty pleased wid hisse’f. When
he fus’ come he ain’t take no notice er ol’ Miss Buzzard. He come in
a-laughin’, an’ he laugh twel he don’t wanter laugh no mo’. But bimeby
he ’gun ter take notice dat ever’thing wa’n’t des like it use ter be. He
’low, ‘Somebody done been here while I’m gone, an’ whoever ’twuz, is got
a mighty bad breff.’ He keep still, kaze ’twuz mighty dark in de holler,
but he keep on wigglin’ his nose an’ tryin’ ter sneeze. Bimeby, he say,
‘I dunner who ’twuz; all I know, is dat he better go see de doctor.’
[Illustration: “_Long todes night, er maybe a little later, Brer Rabbit
come home_”]
“Dis ’uz too much fer ol’ Miss Buzzard, an’ she say, ‘I thank you
kin’ly, Brer Rabbit! Youer in de way er makin’ frien’s wharsomever you
go!’ Brer Rabbit, he jump mos’ out ’n his skin, he wuz so skeer’d. He
cotch his breff an’ sneeze, an’ den he ’low, ‘Heyo, Sis Buzzard! is dat
you? I thought you stayed in de trees. What win’ blow you here, an’ how
is ol’ Brer Buzzard?’ She say, ‘Oh, he’s doin’ ez well ez you kin speck
a man ter do; he’s ’way fum home when he oughter be dar, an’ when he’s
dar, he’s in de way. Men folks is monstus tryin’, Brer Rabbit; you know
dat yo’se’f.’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘I ain’t ’sputin’ what you say, but when
wimmen gits out er sorts, an’ has de all-overs, ez you may say, de men
folks has ter b’ar de brunt er der ailments. You kin put dat down fer a
fack.’
“Dey went on dat a-way, ’sputin’ ’bout de seck twel ol’ Miss Buzzard
’gun ter git sleepy. She say, ‘Brer Rabbit, ef you took mo’ time for
sleep, you’d be lots better off.’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘Maybe so--maybe
so, Sis Buzzard, but I can’t help my habits. I’m a light sleeper, but I
wuz born so, an’ if you so much ez move endurin’ er de night I’ll have
one eye open.’ Ol’ Miss Buzzard say, ‘Ef dat’s de case, Brer Rabbit,
I’ll thank you fer ter wake me ef you hear a snake crawlin’. Dey ain’t
many things I’m afeard un, an’ one uv um is a snake.’ Brer Rabbit laugh
hearty, an’ low, ‘Ef snakes wuz all dat trouble me, Sis Buzzard, I’d be
mo’ dan happy. Many an’ many’s de time when I uv woke up an’ foun’ um
quiled up in my britches laig.’ Miss Buzzard, she sorter flutter her
wings, an’ say, ‘Oh, hush, Brer Rabbit! you gi’ me de creeps; you sho do.’
“Dat ’uz de fust night,” said Uncle Remus, flinging away a quid of
tobacco and taking a fresh one. “By de nex’ day ol’ Miss Buzzard had done
took up her ’bode an’ lodgin’ whar Brer Rabbit wuz livin’ at. He ain’t
say nothin’, kaze he des waitin’ de time when he kin play some kinder
prank on her an’ her fambly. All dat he need fer ter brace ’im up wuz
ter have a mighty strong stomach, an’ he thank de Lord dat he got dat.
Time went on, an’ ez any kinder soun’ egg will hatch ef you gi’ it time,
so ol’ Miss Buzzard egg hatch, an’ mos’ ’fo’ you know it, ef you ain’t
hatter live dar like Brer Rabbit, she hatch out her eggs an’ have a pair
er mighty likely chillun, ef you kin call Buzzards likely.
[Illustration: “_Ol’ Miss Buzzard wuz monstus proud er deze young uns_”]
“Ol’ Miss Buzzard wuz monstus proud er deze young uns, an’ de time come
when she wuz hard put ter git um vittles. She’d fly off an’ dey’d holler
fer sump’n ter eat when dey hear ’er come back, an’ it got so atter
while dat dey’d hatter go hongry, dey wuz so ravenous. An’ den she ’gun
ter look sideways at Brer Rabbit. He knew mighty well what she thinkin’
’bout, but he ain’t say nothin’. He’d come an’ go des like ol’ Miss
Buzzard want in de back part er her head, but all de time, he know’d what
she plannin’ ter do, an’ he ack accordin’. He ’low ter ol’ Miss Buzzard
dat he know she wanter be kinder private when she raisin’ a fambly, an’
ez dey wuz two hollers in de tree, he say he gwinter make his home in de
yuther one. Miss Buzzard, she say, she did, dat Brer Rabbit wuz mighty
good fer ter be thinkin’ ’bout yuther people, but Brer Rabbit make a bow
an’ say he been raise dat a-way.
[Illustration: “_He sot so still dat ol’ Miss Buzzard got de idee dat he
gone abroad_”]
[Illustration: “_Went off ter his laughin’-place_”]
“But ’fo’ Brer Rabbit went in de yuther holler he made sho dat dey wuz
mo’ dan one way er gittin’ out. He went in dar, he did, an’ scratch
about an’ make a new bed, an’ den he git in it fer ter git it warm. He
set dar wid one eye open an’ t’er one shot. He sot so still dat ol’ Miss
Buzzard got de idee dat he gone abroad, an’ so when her chillun cry fer
dey dinner, she say, ‘Don’t cry, honey babies; mammy gwine ter git you a
good warm dinner ’fo’ long, an’ it’ll be fresh meat, too, you kin ’pen’
on dat.’ De chillun, dey cry wuss at dis, kaze dey so hongry dey don’t
wanter wait a minnit. Dey say, ‘Git it now, mammy! git it now!’ Ol’ Brer
Rabbit wuz settin’ in dar lis’nin’, an’ he ’low ter hisse’f, ‘It’ll tas’e
mighty good when you does git it, honey babies!’ Wid dat, he skip out fum
dar, an’ went off ter his laughin’-place.”
“Atter so long a time, ol’ Miss Buzzard went ’roun’ ter de yuther
holler, an’ peep in. Ef Brer Rabbit had ’a’ been in dar, she wuz gwineter
ax ’im how he like his new house, but he wa’n’t dar, an’ she hove a long
breff, kaze when you gwineter do mischief, it seem like eve’ybody know
what you gwineter do. Anyhow, she ’uz mighty glad dat Brer Rabbit wa’n’t
dar fer ter look at ’er wid his pop-eyes. Den she tell her chillun dat
she gwine off atter some vittles, an’ she flop ’er wings a time er two,
an’ off she flew’d.
[Illustration: “_She ’uz mighty glad dat Brer Rabbit wa’n’t dar_”]
“Dey got ’long tollable well dat day an’ de nex’ but ’twant long ’fo’
der craw ’gun ter feel like a win’-bag, an’ den dey set up a cry fer mo’
vittles, an’ der mammy ain’t got no vittles fer ter gi’ um. Brer Rabbit
went abroad mighty soon dat day, an’ atter he had his fill er fun an’
turnip greens he come home an’ went ter bed. He went ter bed, he did,
an’ went ter sleep, but he ain’t sleep long, kaze he hear some kinder
noise. He wake up, an’ open an’ shet his pop-eyes kinder slow, an’ wiggle
his mouf an’ nose. He kin hear ol’ Miss Buzzard trompin’ roun’ at his
front door, kinder hummin’ a chune ter herself. He say, ‘Heyo, dar! who
dat projickin’ at my front do’?’ Ol’ Miss Buzzard, she say, ‘Take yo’
res’, Brer Rabbit; ’tain’t nobody but me. I got de idee dat some un wuz
pirootin’ roun’ de place, an’ I des got up fer ter see dat everything wuz
all right.’
[Illustration: “_De mornin sun wuz shinin’ thoo a knot-hole right in Brer
Rabbit’s face_”]
“Brer Rabbit say, ‘It’s mighty dark in here,’ an’ ‘A mighty good
reason,’ sez ol’ Miss Buzzard, se’she, ‘kaze it’s black night out here,’
se’she; ‘you can’t see yo’ han’ befo’ you,’ se’she. Dis make Brer Rabbit
laugh, kaze de mornin’ sun wuz shinin’ thoo a knot-hole right in Brer
Rabbit’s face. He laugh an’ ’low ter hisse’f, ‘Shoot yo’ shekels, ol’
’oman, an’ shoot um hard, kaze youer gwineter git de rough een’ er dis
business. You hear my horn!’ He hear ol’ Miss Buzzard walkin’ roun’ out
dar, an’ he holler out, ‘I can’t git out! I b’lieve it’s daytime out dar,
an’ I can’t git out! Somebody better run here an’ he’p me ter git out.
Some un done lock me in my own house, an’ I can’t git out! Ain’t somebody
gwineter run here an’ turn me out! I can’t git a breff er fresh a’r.’
“Well, ol’ Miss Buzzard ain’t got no mo’ sense dan ter b’lieve Brer
Rabbit, an’ she wuz des certain an’ sho dat he wuz her meat. She say,
‘I’m de one what shet you up in dar, an’ I’m gwine ter keep you in dar
twel youer done dead, an’ den I’ll pull de meat off’n yo’ bones, bofe
fat an’ lean, an’ feed my chillun. I done got you shot up wid red clay
an’ white, an’ I’m gwineter keep you in dar bofe day an’ night, twel you
ain’t got no breff in you.’ Wid dat she went in her own house an’ sot
down wid ’er chillun fer ter wait an’ see what gwineter happen. Brer
Rabbit he stay still fer de longes’, kaze he one er de mos’ fidgetty
creeturs you yever is lay yo’ eyes on. He stay right still, he did,
twel ol’ Miss Turkey Buzzard git tired er waitin’ an’ come out fer ter
promenade up an’ down ’fo’ Brer Rabbit front do’.
[Illustration: “_She got de hot ashes over her head an’ neck_”]
“He hear de ol’ huzzy, an’ he say, ‘I know you des jokin’ wid me, Sis
Buzzard; please, ma’am, le’ me out. My breff gittin’ shorter, an’ dish
yer an’ what in here smell mos’ ez bad ez what yo’ breff do. Please,
ma’am, make ’as’e an’ let me out.’ Den she got mad. ‘My breff, I hear you
say! Well, ’fo’ I git thoo wid you, you won’t have no breff--I prommus
you dat.’ Atter ol’ Miss Buzzard went back in her part er de house, Brer
Rabbit tuck a notion dat he’d git out er dar, an’ pay ’er back fer de ol’
an’ de new. An’ out er his back door he went. He ain’t take time fer ter
go ter de laughin’-place--no, suh! not him. Stidder dat he put off ter
whar he know’d Mr. Man had been cle’rin’ up a new groun’. Dey wuz a tin
bucket what Mr. Man had done off an’ forgot, an’ Brer Rabbit tuck dat an’
fill it full er red-hot embers, an’ went sailin’ back home wid it.
“When he git dar, he stuck his head in Miss Buzzard do’, an’ low,
‘Peep-eye, Sis Buzzard! I hope you done had yo’ dinner ter day, an’ ef
you ain’t I got it right here fer you an’ you mo’ dan welcome ter all
dat’s in it.’ He ain’t mo’ dan got de words out ’n his mouf, ’fo’ ol’
Miss Buzzard flew’d out at ’im des like she flew’d out at you, de yuther
day. She flew’d out, she did, but she ain’t flew’d fur ’fo’ she got de
hot ashes over her head an’ neck, an’ de way she hopp’d ’roun’ wuz so
scandalious dat folks calls dat kinder doin’s de buzzard-dance down ter
dis day an’ time.
“Some er de ashes got on de little buzzards, an fum dat time on none
er de buzzard tribe is had any ha’r er fedders on der head, an’ not much
on der neck. An’ ef you look at um right close, you’ll fin’ dat I’m ’a’
tellin’ you de plain trufe. Dey look so ba’r on der head an’ neck dat you
wanter gi’ um a piece er rag fer to tie roun’ it ter keep um fum ketchin’
col’.”
X
BROTHER DEER AN’ KING SUN’S DAUGHTER
It is only fair to say that the little boy came to the plantation
somewhat prejudiced. His mother, had never known the advantages of
association with the old-time negroes, and was a great stickler for
accuracy of speech. She was very precise in the use of English and could
not abide the simple dialect in which the stories had been related to the
little boy’s father. She was so insistent in this matter that the child’s
father, when asked for a story such as Uncle Remus had told him, thought
it best to avoid the dialect that he knew so well. In consequence, the
essence of the stories was dissipated for the child, and he lacked the
enthusiasm which Uncle Remus had hoped to find.
But this enthusiasm came by degrees as Uncle Remus wandered from one
tale to another. The child never told his mother how he enjoyed the
stories, and yet he came to play the part that had been played by his
father long before he was born, and matters came to such a pass, that,
if he was long with Uncle Remus without hearing a story, he straightway
imagined that the old man was angry or out of sorts. The lad was gaining
in health and strength every day he remained on the plantation, and in
consideration of this fact--and as the result of wise diplomacy of Uncle
Remus--the child’s mother relaxed the discipline that she had thought
necessary for his welfare, so that not many weeks elapsed before his
cheeks became ruddy with health. Uncle Remus hailed him as a town rowdy,
and declared that the plantation would soon be too small to hold him.
“I pity yo’ gran’ma,” said Uncle Remus, “kaze ef you stay roun’ here,
she’ll hatter buy all de ’j’inin’ plantations ef she gwineter keep you on
her lan’.”
There was no more corn to be hauled, but there was harness to be mended,
and the little boy, sitting on a high stool in the workshop, or leaning
against Uncle Remus, watched the operation with great interest. He
observed one day that the old man was frowning darkly. His forehead was
puckered into knots and seamed with wrinkles that did not belong there,
and his eyebrows were drawn together over his nose.
“What is the matter with you, Uncle Remus? Are you angry, or are you
going to cry?”
“I’ll tell you de trufe, honey. I’m mighty nigh on de p’int er cryin’.
You see my face puckered up, don’t you? Well, ef you had ez much on yo’
min’ ez what I got on mine, you’d be boo-hooin’ same ez a baby. I tell
you dat. An’ des ter show you dat I’m in deep trouble, I’ll ax you ter
tell me how many times dey is.”
“How many times? How many times what?” the child inquired.
Uncle Remus regarded him sorrowfully, and then returned to his work
with a heavy sigh. “Did I ax you ’bout what? No, I ain’t; I ax’d you
’bout times. I say ez plain ez writin’: ‘How many times is dey?’ an’ you
’spon’, ‘How many times what?’ It look mighty funny ter me. Dar’s daytime
an’ night-time, bedtime an’ meal-time, an’ some time an’ no time, an’
high time an’ fly time, an’ long time an’ wrong time, ’simmon time an’
plum time. Dey ain’t no use er talkin’; it’s nuff fer ter make yo’ head
swim. I been tryin’ fer ter count um up, but de mo’ I count um up de mo’
dey is.”
The little boy looked at the old man with a half-smile on his face. He
was plainly puzzled, but he didn’t like to admit it even to himself. “Why
do you want to know how many times there are?” he asked.
“Kaze I wanter live an’ l’arn,” replied Uncle Remus. “Le’ me see,” he
went on, puckering his face again. “Dars de ol’ time an’ de new time, de
col’ time an’ de due time--bless yo’ soul, honey, I can’t count um up.
No, suh; you’ll hatter skusen me!”
He paused and looked at the little boy to see what the child could make
out of all he had said.
He saw nothing in the small countenance but curiosity. “What made you
think of it?” was the question the child asked.
“Mos’ eve’ything I see make me think ’bout it, an’ you’ll think ’bout
it you’se’f, when you come ter be ol’ ez what I is. But de reason it
wuz runnin’ in my head dis time wuz kaze I start ter tell a tale widout
knowin’ when de time wuz. I know it wuz ’way back yander, but de mont’ er
de year I can’t tell, an’ when I try ter fix on de time eve’ything look
dim an’ smoky, an’ I say ter myse’f dat dey mus’ be a fog in my mind.”
“Can’t you tell the story unless you can find out about the time?”
inquired the little boy.
“Tooby sho’ I kin, honey; but you’d b’lieve it lots quicker ef you know’d
what time it happen. ’Fo’ yo’ great-gran’ma died she had a trunk full er
ollymenacks, an’ I boun’ you ef I had ’em here whar you could look at um,
we wouldn’t have no trouble. I speck dey done got strow’d about endurin’
er de war time.
“Well, anyhow, once ’pon a time, when dey wuz mighty few folks in de
worl’, ef any, Brer Deer fell in love wid ol’ King Sun’s daughter.”
Having made this preliminary statement, Uncle Remus paused to see what
effect it had on the child. Amazement and incredulity were written on
the little boy’s face, observing which the old man smiled. “You nee’nter
git de idee in yo’ head dat ol’ King Sun is like he wuz in dem days. No,
bless you! He wuz des ez diffunt ez dem times wuz fum deze times, an’
when you git ter readin’ in de books you’ll fin’ out what de diffunce
wuz. He wuz closer by, an’ he ain’t hide out at night like he does now.
He wuz up in de sky, but he ain’t live ez high up; he wuz mo’ neighborly,
ez you may say.
“He live so close by dat he useter sen’ de house-gal down ter de spring
fer drinkin’-water. Three times a day she’d come ter fetch it; she’d
clime down wid de bucket in her han’ an’ she’d clime back wid de bucket
on her head, an’ she’d sing bofe ways, comin’ an’ gwine. In dem times
dey all know’d dat ol’ King Sun had a daughter, but dey ain’t know what
’er name is; an’ dey know she wuz purty. Well, Brer Deer he hear talk un
’er, an’ he tuck a notion dat he gwineter marry ’er, but he dunner how he
gwineter git up dar whar she live at. He study an’ study, but he can’t
fin’ no way.
“He was settin’ down by de road studyin’ out a plan fer ter git word ter
de gal, when ol’ Brer Rabbit come lopin’ down de lane. He mus’ a been
playin’ hoss, kaze when he see Brer Deer, he shied an’ sneezed, he did,
an’ make like he gwineter run away. But he ain’t run. He pass de time
er day wid Brer Deer an’ ax ’im how his copperosity seem to segashuate.
Brer Deer ’low dat his copperosity is segashuatin’ all right, but he got
trouble in his min’ an’ he can’t git it out. He looked mighty sollumcolly
when he say dis, an’ Brer Rabbit say he sorry.
“He sot down, Brer Rabbit did, an’ cross his legs, an’ rub his chin same
like de doctor do when he gwineter slap a dose er bitter truck on yo’
insides. He rub his chin, he did, an’ look like he know all dey is fer
ter be know’d. He say, ‘Brer Deer, when I wuz growin’ up I useter hear
de ol’ folks say dat a light heart made a long life, an’ I b’lieve um.
I sho’ does. Dey know’d what dey wuz talkin’ ’bout, kaze I done had de
speunce un it.
“Brer Deer shuck his head an’ grieve. Ef he’d ’a’ had a hankcher, he
’a’ had need un it right den an’ dar, but he wink his eye fas’ fer ter
git de tears out ’n um. He ’low, ‘I speck youer tellin’ me de trufe,
Brer Rabbit, but I can’t he’p it ef you is. I am what I am, an’ I can’t
be no ammer. I feels mo’ like cryin’ dan I does like eatin’, an’ I’m
dat fractious dat I can’t skacely see straight. Ol’ Mr. Ram tol’ me
howdy a while ago, an’ I ain’t done a thing but run at ’im an butt him
slonchways. You nee’nter tell me dat I ain’t got no business fer ter do
dat a-way; I des can’t he’p it.’
“Brer Rabbit kinder edge hisse’f away fum Brer Deer. He say, ‘Dat bein’
de case, Brer Deer, I speck I better gi’ you mo’ room. When I lef’
home dis mornin’ my ol’ ’oman ’low: “You better take keer er yo’se’f,
honey,” an’ I’m gwineter do dat identual thing. I dunno dat I’m skeered
er gittin’ hurted, but I’m monstus ticklish when de horned creeturs is
roun’.’ Brer Deer say: ‘You nee’nter be fear’d er me, Brer Rabbit. I been
knowin’ you a long time, an’ many’s de night dat we bofe graze in de
same pastur’, you a-nibblin’ on de green grass an’ me a-crappin’ it. I’m
monstus glad I run ’cross you, kaze ef I can’t tell my troubles ter some
un, I b’lieve in my soul I’ll bust wide open.’
“Wid dat Brer Deer went on fer ter tell Brer Rabbit dat he done fell
dead in love wid ol’ King Sun’s daughter. He dunner how come it ter be
so, but anyhow so it is. He ain’t had no talk wid ’er; he ain’t mo’ dan
cotch a glimp’ er de gal, yet dar he wuz dead in love wid ’er. Brer
Rabbit mought laugh at ’im ef he wanter; he’ll des set dar an’ take it.
He talk an’ talk, he did, twel Brer Rabbit got right sorry fer ’im. He
sot dar, he did, an’ study, an’ he tell Brer Deer dat he’ll he’p ’im ef
he kin, an’ he mos’ know he kin.
[Illustration: “_Brer Deer went on fer ter tell Brer Rabbit_”]
“Brer Deer raise his head, an’ open his eyes. He say, ‘Brer Rabbit, you
’stonish me--you sho’ does. Ef you’ll he’p me out in dis, I’ll stan’ by
you thoo thick an’ thin.’ But Brer Rabbit say he ain’t doin’ it fer no
pay; he done lay by his crap, an’ he ain’t got nothin’ much ter do, an’
he say he’ll he’p Brer Deer des fer ter keep his han’ in. Brer Deer look
like he wuz might’ly holp up. Fust he smole a smile, an’ den he broke out
in a laugh. He say, ‘Youer de man fer my money!’
“Brer Rabbit kinder wiggle his nose. He say, ‘Ef you keep yo’ money twel
you think you got too much, you’ll have it by you fer many a long year
ter come.’ Wid dat, he got up an’ bresh de dus’ off’n his britches, an’
shuck han’s wid Brer Deer. He say, ‘I hope fer ter have some good news
fer you de nex’ time we meet in de big road.’ He bowed, he did, an’ den
off he put, lippity-clip. He look back fer ter see ef Brer Deer wuz
follerin’ ’im, but Brer Deer had sense ’nuff fer ter hunt ’im a cool
place in de woods, whar he kin take de fust nap what he had in many a
night an’ day.
“Brer Rabbit lope off todes de spring, kaze he know’d dat de spring wuz
de place whar King Sun’s house-gal come atter water--an’ she hatter tote
a mighty heap un it. It look like de mo’ water what King Sun drunk de
mo’ he want, an’ dat bein’ de case, de gal had ’bout ez much totin’ ez
she kin do. Brer Rabbit went down ter de spring, but dey wa’n’t nobody
dar, an’ he look in it an’ see hisse’f in de water. Dar he wuz, his ha’r
all comb, his face clean, an’ he look slicker dan sin. He laugh, he
did, an’ say ter de Rabbit what he see in de water, ‘You sho’ is mighty
good-lookin’, whoever you is, an’ ef you blame anybody, don’t blame me,
kaze I can’t he’p it.’
“Now, down at de bottom er de spring wuz ol’ man Spring Lizzard. He wuz
takin’ his mornin’ nap, when we hear some un talkin’. He raise up, he
did, an’ lissen; den he look an’ see Brer Rabbit lookin’ at hisse’f in
de water, an’ he holler out, ‘Maybe you ain’t ez good-lookin’ ez you
think you is.’ Brer Rabbit holler back, ‘Hello, dar! dis is de fus time I
know’d dat yo’ shadder in de water kin talk back at you.’
“Wid dat, Mr. Spring Lizzard come fum under de green moss, an’ float ter
de top er de water. He pass de time er day wid Brer Rabbit, an’ ax ’im
whar he gwine, an’ what he gwine ter do when he git dar. Brer Rabbit ’low
dat he tryin’ fer ter do a good turn ter a frien’ what’s in trouble an’
den he went on an’ tol’ de ol’ Spring Lizzard ’bout Brer Deer an’ King
Sun’s daughter. De Spring Lizzard say she’s a mighty likely gal, kaze
he seed her one time when she slip off an’ come wid de house-gal atter
water. He say she got long ha’r dat look like spun silk, an’ eyes dat
shine like de mornin’ star.
“Brer Rabbit say he don’t ’spute it, but what he wanter know is how he
kin git word ter King Sun ’bout Brer Deer. De Spring Lizzard say dat’s
easy. He say dat when de house-gal come atter water, she hatter let down
de step-ladder, an’ Brer Rabbit kin slip by ’er an’ go up, er he hisse’f
kin git in de bucket an’ go up. Brer Rabbit say he kinder jub’us ’bout
gwine, kaze he’s a kinder home body, an’ den de Spring Lizzard ’low dat
ef Brer Deer will write a note, he’ll take it.
“Well, Brer Deer can’t write an’ Brer Rabbit kin; so dey fix it up
’twix’ um, an’ ’twant long ’fo’ dey had de note writ, an’ Brer Rabbit
tuck it an’ gi’ it ter de Spring Lizzard. He say, ‘Don’t let it git wet,
whatever you does,’ and de Spring Lizzard ax how it gwineter git wet when
he put it in his pocket? He say dat eve’ybody but him, de fishes an’ de
frogs got a wrong idee ’bout water, kaze ’tain’t wet ez it mought be,
’ceppin’ on a rainy day.