CHAPTER IX

AUNT EDY’S STORY

Aunt Edy was the principal laundress, and a great favorite she was with

the little girls. She was never too busy to do up a doll’s frock or

apron, and was always glad when she could amuse and entertain them. One

evening Dumps and Tot stole off from Mammy, and ran as fast as they

could clip it to the laundry, with a whole armful of their dollies’

clothes, to get Aunt Edy to let them “iun des er ’ittle,” as Tot said.

“Lemme see wat yer got,” said Aunt Edy; and they spread out on the

table garments of worsted and silk and muslin and lace and tarlatan and

calico and homespun, just whatever their little hands had been able to

gather up.

“Lor’, chil’en, ef yer washes deze fine close yer’ll ruint ’em,” said

Aunt Edy, examining the bundles laid out; “de suds’ll tuck all de color

out’n ’em; s’posin’ yer jes press ’em out on de little stool ober dar

wid er nice cole iun,”

“Yes, that’s the very thing,” said Dumps; and Aunt Edy folded some

towels, and laid them on the little stools, and gave each of the

children a cold iron. And, kneeling down, so as to get at their work

conveniently, the little girls were soon busy smoothing and pressing

the things they had brought.

“Aunt Edy,” said Dumps, presently, “could’n yer tell us ’bout Po’ Nancy

Jane O?”

“Dar now!” exclaimed Aunt Edy; “dem chil’en nuber is tierd er hyearn’

dat tale; pyears like dey like hit mo’ an’ mo’ eb’y time dey hyears

hit;” and she laughed slyly, for she was the only one on the plantation

who knew about “Po’ Nancy Jane O,” and she was pleased because it was

such a favorite story with the children.

“Once pun er time,” she began, “dar wuz er bird name’ Nancy Jane O, an’

she wuz guv up ter be de swif’es’-fly’n thing dar wuz in de a’r. Well,

at dat time de king uv all de fishes an’ birds, an’ all de little

beas’es, like snakes an’ frogs an’ wums an’ tarrypins an’ bugs, an’ all

sich ez dat, he wur er mole dat year! an’ he wuz blin’ in bof ’is eyes,

jes same like any udder mole; an’, somehow, he had hyear some way dat

dar wuz er little bit er stone name’ de gol’-stone, way off fum dar, in

er muddy crick, an’ ef’n he could git dat stone, an’ hol’ it in his

mouf, he could see same ez anybody.

“Den he ’gun ter stedy how wuz he fur ter git dat stone.

“He stedded an’ _he stedded,_ an’ pyeard like de mo’ he stedded de mo’

he couldn’ fix no way fur ter git it. He knowed he wuz blin’, an’ he

knowed he trab’l so slow dat he ’lowed ’twould be years pun top er

years befo’ he’d git ter de crick, an’ so he made up in ’is min’ dat

he’d let somebody git it fur ’im. Den, bein’ ez he wuz de king, an’

could grant any kin’ er wush, he sont all roun’ thu de kentry eb’ywhar,

an’ ’lowed dat any bird or fish, or any kin’ er little beas’ dat ’oud

fotch ’im dat stone, he’d grant ’em de deares’ wush er dey hearts.

“Well, mun, in er few days de whole yearth wuz er movin’; eb’ything dar

wuz in de lan’ wuz er gwine.

“Some wuz er hoppin’ an’ some wuz er crawlin’ an’ some wuz er flyin’,

jes ’cord’n to dey natur’; de birds dey ’lowed ter git dar fus’, on

’count er fly’n so fas’; but den de little stone wuz in de water, an’

dey’d hatter wait till de crick run down, so ’twuz jes ’bout broad ez

’twuz long.

“Well, wile dey wuz all er gwine, an, de birds wuz in de lead, one day

dey hyeard sump’n gwine f-l-u-shsh—f-l-u-shsh—an’ sump’n streaked by

like lightnin’, and dey look way erhead, dey did, an’ dey seed Nancy

Jane O. Den dey hearts ’gun ter sink, an’ dey gin right up, caze dey

knowed she’d out-fly eb’ything on de road. An’ by’mby de crow, wat wuz

allers er cunin’ bird, sez, ‘I tell yer wat we’ll do; we’ll all gin er

feas’,’ sezee, ‘an’ git Nancy Jane O ter come, an’ den we’ll all club

togedder an’ tie her,’ sezee.

“Dat took dey fancy, an’ dey sont de lark on erhead fur ter catch up

wid Nancy Jane O, an’ ter ax’ er ter de feas’. Well, mun, de lark he

nearly kill hese’f er flyin’. He flew an’ he flew an’ he flew, but

pyear’d like de fas’er he went de furder erhead wuz Nancy Jane O.

“But Nancy Jane O, bein’ so fur er start uv all de res’, an’ not er

dreamin’ ’bout no kin’ er develment, she ’lowed she’d stop an’ take er

nap, an’ so de lark he come up wid ’er, wile she wuz er set’n on er

sweet-gum lim’, wid ’er head un’er ’er wing. Den de lark spoke up, an’

sezee, ‘Sis Nancy Jane O,’ sezee, ‘we birds is gwinter gin er bug

feas’, caze we’ll be sho’ ter win de race anyhow, an’ bein’ ez we’ve

flew’d so long an’ so fur, wy we’re gwine ter stop an’ res’ er spell,

an’ gin er feas’. An’ Brer Crow he ’lowed ’twouldn’ be no feas’ ’tall

les’n you could be dar; so dey sont me on ter tell yer to hol’ up tell

dey come: dey’s done got seeds an’ bugs an’ wums, an’ Brer Crow he’s

gwine ter furnish de corn.’

“Nancy Jane O she ’lowed ter herse’f she could soon git erhead uv ’em

ergin, so she ’greed ter wait; an’ by’mby hyear day come er flyin’. An’

de nex’ day dey gin de feas’; an’ wile Nancy Jane O wuz er eatin’ an’

er stuffun’ herse’f wid wums an’ seeds, an’ one thing er nudder, de

blue jay he slope up behin’ ’er, an’ tied ’er fas’ ter er little bush.

An’ dey all laft an’ flopped dey wings; an’ sez dey, ‘Good-bye ter yer,

Sis Nancy Jane O. I hope yer’ll enjoy yerse’f,’ sez dey; an’ den dey

riz up an’ stretched out dey wings, an’ away dey flewed.

“Wen Po’ Nancy Jane O seed de trick wat dey played her, she couldn’

hardly stan’ still, she wuz so mad; an’ she pulled an’ she jerked an’

she stretched ter git er loose, but de string wuz so strong, an’ de

bush wuz so fum, she wuz jes er was’en ’er strengt’. An’ den she sot

down, an’ she ’gun ter cry ter herse’f, an’ ter sing,

“‘Please on-tie, please on-tie Po’ Nancy Jane O!

Please on-tie, please on-tie Po’ Nancy Jane O!’

An’ atter er wile hyear come de ole bullfrog Pigunawaya. He sez ter

hisse’f, sezee, ‘Wat’s dat I hyear? Den he lis’en, an’ he hyear sump’n

gwine,

“‘Please on-tie, please on-tie Po’ Nancy Jane O!’

an’ he went whar he hyeard de soun’, an’ dar wuz de po’ bird layin’

down all tied ter de bush.

“‘Umph!’ says Pigunawaya, sezee, ‘ain’t dis Nancy Jane O, de

swif’es’-flyin’ bird dey is?’ sezee; ‘wat ail ’long yer, chile? wat yer

cryin’ ’bout?’ An’ atter Nancy Jane O she up an’ tol’ ’im, den de frog

sez:

“‘Now look er yer; I wuz er gwine myse’f ter see ef’n I could’n git dat

gol’-stone; hit’s true I don’t stan’ much showin’ ’long o’ birds, but

den ef’n eber I gits dar, wy I kin jes jump right in an’ fotch up de

stone wile de birds is er waitin’ fur de crick ter run down. An’ now,

s’posin’ I wuz ter ontie yer, Nancy Jane O, could yer tuck me on yer

back an’ cyar me ter de crick? an’ den we’d hab de sho’ thing on de

gol’-stone, caze soon’s eber we git dar, I’ll git it, an’ we’ll cyar it

bof tergedder ter de king, an’ den we’ll bof git de deares’ wush uv our

hearts. Now wat yer say? speak yer min’. Ef’n yer able an’ willin’ ter

tote me fum hyear ter de crick, I’ll ontie yer; ef’n yer ain’t, den far

yer well, caze I mus’ be er gittin’ erlong.’

“Well, Nancy Jane O, she stedded an’ stedded in her min’, an’ by’mby

she sez, ‘Brer Frog,’ sez she, ‘I b’lieve I’ll try yer; ontie me,’ sez

she, ‘an’ git on, an’ I’ll tuck yer ter de crick.’ Den de frog he clum

on her back an’ ontied her, an’ she flopped her wings an’ started off.

Hit wuz mighty hard flyin’ wid dat big frog on her back; but Nancy Jane

O wuz er flyer, mun, yer hyeard me! an’ she jes lit right out, an’ she

flew an’ she flew, an’ atter er wile she got in sight er de birds, an’

dey looked, an’ dey see her comin’, an’ den dey ’gun ter holler,

“‘Who on-tied, who on-tied Po’ Nancy Jane O?’

An’ de frog he holler back,

“‘O Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!’

“Den, gemmun, yer oughten seed dat race; dem birds dey done dey leb’l

bes’, but Nancy Jane O, spite er all dey could do, she gaint on ’em,

an’ ole Pigunawaya he sot up dar, an’ he kep’ er urg’n an’ er urg’n

Nancy Jane O.

“‘Dat’s you!’ sezee; ‘git erhead!’ sezee. ‘Now we’re gwine it!’ sezee;

an’ pres’nly Nancy Jane O shot erhead clean befo’ all de res’, an’ wen

de birds dey seed dat de race wuz los’, den dey all ’gun ter holler,

“‘Who on-tied, who on-tied Po’ Nancy Jane O?’

An’ de frog, he turnt roun,’ he did, an’ he wave his han’ roun’ his

head, an’ he holler back,

“‘Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!’

“Atter Nancy Jane O got erhead er de birds, den de hardes’ flyin’ wuz

thu wid; so she jes went ’long, an’ went ’long, kin’ er easy like, tell

she got ter de stone; an’ she lit on er’ simmon-bush close ter de

crick, an’ Pigunawaya he slipt off, he did, an’ he hist up his feet,

an’ he gin er jump, kerchug he went down inter de water; an’ by’mby

hyear he come wid de stone in his mouf. Den he mount on Nancy Jane O,

he did; an’, mun, she wuz so proud, she an’ de frog bof, tell dey flew

all roun’ an’ roun’, an’ Nancy Jane O, she ’gun ter sing,

“‘Who on-tied, who on-tied Po’ Nancy Jane O?’

An’ de frog he ans’er back,

“‘Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!’

“An’ wile dey wuz er singing’ an’ er j’yin’ uv deyselves, hyear come de

birds; an’ de frog he felt so big, caze he’d got de stone, tell he

stood up on Nancy Jane O’s back, he did, an’ he tuck’n shuck de stone

at de birds, an’ holler at ’em,

“‘O Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hoo-hooo!’

An’ jes ez he said dat, he felt hisse’f slippin’, an’ dat made him

clutch on ter Po’ Nancy Jane O, an’ down dey bof’ went tergedder

kersplash, right inter de crick.

“De frog he fell slap on ter er big rock, an’ bust his head all ter

pieces; an’ Po’ Nancy Jane O sunk down in de water an’ got drownded;

an’ dat’s de een’.”

“Did the king get the stone, Aunt Edy?” asked Dumps.

“Wy no, chile; don’t yer know de mole he’s blin’ tell yit? ef’n he

could er got dat stone, he could er seen out’n his eyes befo’ now. But

I ain’t got no time ter fool ’long er you chil’en. I mus’ git marster’s

shuts done, I mus’.”

And Aunt Edy turned to her ironing-table, as if she didn’t care for

company; and Dumps and Tot, seeing that she was tired of them, went

back to the house, Tot singing,

“Who on-tied, who on-tied Po’ Nanty Dane O?”

and Dumps answering back,

“Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!”

Diddie, Dumps, and Tot; Or, Plantation Child-Life · 第 9 / 17 章