Once ’way back yonder before the stars fell all the animals used to
talk just like people. In them days dogs and rabbits was the best of
friends--even tho both of them was stuck on the same gal--which was
Miss Nancy Coon. She had the sweetest smile and the prettiest striped
and bushy tail to be found anywhere.
They both run their legs nigh off trying to win her for
themselves--fetching nice ripe persimmons and such. But she never give
one or the other no satisfaction.
Finally one night Mr. Dog popped the question right out. “Miss Coon,”
he says, “Ma’am, also Ma’am which would you ruther be--a lark flyin’ or
a dove a settin’?”
Course Miss Nancy she blushed and laughed a little and hid her face
behind her bushy tail for a spell. Then she said sorter shy like, “I
does love yo’ sweet voice, brother dawg--but--but I ain’t jes’ exactly
set in my mind yit.”
Her and Mr. Dog set on a spell, when up comes hopping Mr. Rabbit wid
his tail fresh washed and his whiskers shining. He got right down to
business and asked Miss Coon to marry him, too.
“Oh, Miss Nancy,” he says, “Ma’am, also Ma’am, if you’d see me settin’
straddle of a mud-cat leadin’ a minnow, what would you think? Ma’am
also Ma’am?” Which is a out and out proposal as everybody knows.
“Youse awful nice, Brother Rabbit and a beautiful dancer, but you
cannot sing like Brother Dog. Both you uns come back next week to gimme
time for to decide.”
They both left arm-in-arm. Finally Mr. Rabbit says to Mr. Dog. “Taint
no use in me going back--she ain’t gwinter have me. So I mought as well
give up. She loves singing, and I ain’t got nothing but a squeak.”
“Oh, don’t talk that a’ way,” says Mr. Dog, tho’ he is glad Mr. Rabbit
can’t sing none.
“Thass all right, Brer Dog. But if I had a sweet voice like you got,
I’d have it worked on and make it sweeter.”
“How! How! How!” Mr. Dog cried, jumping up and down. “Lemme fix it for
you, like I do for Sister Lark and Sister Mocking-bird.”
“When? Where?” asked Mr. Dog, all excited. He was figuring that if he
could sing just a little better Miss Coon would be bound to have him.
“Just you meet me t’morrer in de huckleberry patch,” says the rabbit
and off they both goes to bed.
The dog is there on time next day and after a while the rabbit comes
loping up.
“Mawnin’, Brer Dawg,” he says kinder chippy like. “Ready to git yo’
voice sweetened?”
“Sholy, sholy, Brer Rabbit. Let’s we all hurry about it. I wants tuh
serenade Miss Nancy from de piney woods tuh night.”
“Well, den, open yo’ mouf and poke out yo’ tongue,” says the rabbit.
No sooner did Mr. Dog poke out his tongue than Mr. Rabbit split it with
a knife and ran for all he was worth to a hollow stump and hid hisself.
The dog has been mad at the rabbit ever since.
Anybody who don’t believe it happened, just look at the dog’s tongue
and he can see for himself where the rabbit slit it right up the middle.
Stepped on a tin, mah story ends.