tracks ter pint out whar he bin--nor, suh, he so full er dat spid'r web
biznes' er his'n dat he kin swing hisse'f fum ennywhar,--an' fo' yer kin
kitch 'im, he done swing 'roun' in ernuth'r place onti'ly."
"Captain Yellow Jacket's side beat the fight, didn't they, Mammy?" Mary
Van desired the hornets vanquished.
"No, they didn't," contradicted Willis, "a hornet can beat a Yellow Jacket
every time!"
"Jes' hole on dar!" Phyllis steadied the hammock. "I'm de onlies' one dat
seen who 'twas whup'd."
"I want Captain Yellow Jacket's side to kill all of the hornets,"
whimpered Mary Van.
"But they can't," persisted Willis vehemently.
Once more Phyllis held the hammock. "You dunno nuthin' tall erbout hit,
suh," as she saw the little girl about to cry, "Hawnits is got mo' pow'r
en Jackits is got, but er Jackit is mo' smart'r en er Hawnit. I 'speck ef
Grab-All had er helt his mouf out'n de fracus, de Jackits wud er outfit de
Hawnits, but es hit wus, Grab-All keep 'em fightin' tell dem whut wusn't
kilt wus hit so hard dat hit 'twan' long 'fo' de ve'y las' one uv 'em
died. Atter dat hap'n Grab-All, he got de cid'r!
"He spin erlong b'ildin' on some houses he fixin' ter rent tell bimeby
Mist'r Blue Bot'le Fly an' his fambly come erlong. Mist'r Blue Bot'le
whisper ter his chillun ter give Grab-All plenty er road. I tell yer
Grab-All swing hisse'f down, he do, an' ax Mist'r Blue Bot'le whut ail his
fambly dat dey look so po'ly.
"Blue Bot'le say: 'I ain' nuv'r see sich er time in m' life! De rich fokes
done stretch wire ov'r de vit'als s'tight dat dey ain' nuthin' fur de po'
flies ter do 'cep'n ter starve.'
"Grab-All say, 'Dat's de trufe, Brer Blue Bot'le, an' I feels s' sorry fur
yer dat I'm gwine give you an' yo' fambly all de vit'als yer kin eat.'
"Bot'le Fly so glad he gwine git sumthin' fur nuthin', dat he fergit ter
'member how raskilly Grab-All wus, an' whin he do 'member 'bout hit, he
think he gwine keep his eye op'n an' git de fus' lick. He jes' nachelly
can't let dat free vit'als git way fum 'im, doan keer how low down
Grab-All wus. So him an' his fambly foll'r Grab-All ter de pan er cider,
an' dey so hongry, dey fergits 'bout ev'ythin' 'cep'n eatin'. Grab-All set
up on de ash-hopp'r an' mos' kill hisse'f laffin'."
"Why, Mammy?"
"'Caze, son, he jes' fatnin' dem flies ter kill 'em off like yo' ma do
chickins. Whin de flies 'gun ter git fat, he spin er teenchy, lit'le web,
an' whin dey git kotch'd, he run an' make like he tryin' ter onhitch 'em,
but he tie 'em up wusser, an' sting 'em tell dey dies. Den he take 'em ter
one dem houses an' sto' 'em erway."
"Did he kill all of Mister Blue Bottle's family?" asked Mary Van.
"Dey wusn't er one uv 'em lef', honey, not eb'n Miss Blue Bot'le's baby
gal, an' nobody dunno de money Grab-All make on de fly trade dat winter
nuth'r."
"Mammy Phyllis, are all spiders kin to Grab-All?"
"Dey's all kin, but dey ain't all got de same name, 'caze yer see all uv
'em ain't got de same slicknes' ter git way wid fokes like Grab-All do,"
she explained.
"Did Mister Grab-All give the other spiders some of Mister Blue Bottle's
children to eat?" asked Mary Van, by way of suggestive generosity.
"Nor, suh, Grab-All say he ain' got no pockit book kin--he say he need all
he got, an' mo' b'sides." Then she added: "But dey doan need Grab-All ter
give 'em nuthin' 'caze none uv 'em wus po'--all uv 'em got nuf spid'r web
in 'em ter swing erlong 'dout trackin' up der biznes'."
She reached out to steady the hammock as Willis scrambled out.
"Mammy," he exclaimed, "Captain Yellow Jacket and Captain Hornet didn't
get a thing."
"Nor, suh," said Phyllis, lifting Mary Van to the ground, "an' nobody
nev'r do git nuthin' dat keeps der senses in der fistes 'stid er der
haids--Ketch Ma'y Van by de uth'r han' an' come on."
XIV
MISTER RATTLESNAKE
"Whut yer givin' dat boy, Zeek?--I boun' hit 'tain' nuthin' fur no good."
Phyllis started for the garden gate, where a suspicious conference was
going on between Willis and the gardener. "Howcum yer can't op'n yer haid
whin fokes speaks ter yer?" Seeing his unwillingness to reply, she threw
her apron partly over her head and quickened her pace.
"Me an' de lit'le man wus jes' fixin' ter make yer 'quainted wid er
present I fotch him fum ov'r t'oth'r side de creek," explained Zeek.
"Whar de present?" she interrupted with annoyance, as she perceived he
was trying to tease her.
She took the little boy by the hand and started for the house.
"Wait, Mammy," he begged, pulling back; "Unk Zeek, please gimme the
snakes."
"Give you whut, in de name er de Lawd!" exclaimed Phyllis.
"Jes' two lit'le gyarters I kotch an' put in er bottle fur de chile," Zeek
explained again.
"Yas," returned Phyllis angrily, "you kotch dem snakes fur nuthin' but ter
tu'n 'em loose 'bout my foots, soon es you gits me in er tight place--I
knows yer. Yer orter be 'shame er yo'se'f,--an' callin' yo'se'f er deac'n,
too!"
Zeek threw his head back and gave a roaring laugh. "Whew!" he finished,
"Sis' Phyllis, you is de slickes' 'ooman I ev'r seed. How yer know I
gwine tu'n dem gyrters loose on yer?" and Zeek laughed again until he held
to the gate for support.
Phyllis turned without deigning a reply.
"Hole on, Sis' Phyllis," Zeek ran and caught her by the arm, "hole on,
Sist'r,--you ain' mad sho' nuf, is yer?"
"Tu'n me loose, Zeekiel," she demanded furiously.
Instead, he caught the other arm also. "I ain' gwine let yer go mad like
yer is," then consiliatingly, "yer knows dem gyart'rs snakes can't bite
nobody--I jes' wanter see yer dance er lit'le," and again he laughed, as
the picture presented itself.
"I gwine call Miss Lucy, ef yer doan take yer han's off'n me," stolidly
demanded Phyllis.
"All right," he said holding on as tightly as ever, "I jes' want yer ter
wait hyah tell I goes down ter de orchard an' gets yer er hat full er dem
big peaches." This argument lessened the rigidity of her face. "Dey's de
fines' thing ter swage mis'ry er de speeret yer ev'r seed." She allowed
him to shove her gently to the ground under the lilac bushes. "Hyah, set
right hyah tell I comes back." Seeing the old woman partly restored to
good humor, he slammed the garden gate behind him and went down the path,
singing.
"Come on, Mammy, less us get my lit'le green snakes Unk Zeek brought me,"
Willis started back to the garden.
"Come back hyah, boy," as she caught him by the skirt of his blouse, "dem
snakes wusn't brung hyah fur you, Zeek jes' makin' er 'cat's paw' er you.
He 'ceivin' you jes' like Mist'r Rattlesnake done Miss Eve."
"No, he ain't, Unk Zeek loves me," defended the boy.
"Dat's jes' whut Miss Eve think whin de sarpint temp' her."
"What's er sarpint?" He still pulled against her.
"Er sarpint is er snake, honey--dat's jes' his scriptur' name--come on an'
set in Mammy's lap an' she'll tell yer 'bout how ole Mist'r Rattlesnake
fix hisse'f up so fine, way back yonder time, an' come struttin' roun'
Miss Eve. He nuv'r come crawlin' like snakes does dese days neeth'r, nor,
suh, he come walkin' plum on de een' er his tail; an' he look s' fine an'
starchy dat--"
"Didn't he have to hop?" Willis scrambled into her lap.
"Nor, de Lawd fix hit so he doan hatt'r hop. I'm tellin' 'zackly de
trufe,--he come walkin' on de een' er his tail," she insisted, "an he look
s' fine an' gran', like some er de fine men folks, dat Miss Eve cudn't see
how black wid sin he wus."
"You are not black with sin," and he pulled the wrinkled face to him and
kissed it.
"Bless my baby," looking into his face as she hugged him, "dis hyah black
on Mammy's face is nig'r black," she squeezed him again, "but sin black,
like Mr. Rattlesnake got, stays in fokeses hearts whar hits hard ter see,
whin hit's kiv'r'd up wid fine man'rs an' er slick tongue.
"So whin Mist'r Rattlesnake come bowin' an scrapin' ter Miss Eve wid dat
beav'r hat on, an' dat walkin' stick whirlin' roun' in his han', she git
so airish tryin' ter th'ow off man'rs like his'n, dat whin he tell her ter
eat dat pis'n apple, she et hit 'dout knowin' whut she doin'. Howsumev'r,
whin Mist'r Rattlesnake but'n up his long tail coat sort'r keerles' like,
an' strut hisse'f off, Miss Eve, she 'gun ter feel de mis'ry er dat pis'n
apple."
"Did her mama give her some castor oil?" Willis sympathized with Miss Eve.
"No, my Lawd, she sot dar an' holl'r tell Adam come an' ax her whut ail
'er. She start ter laffin' she did, an' say: 'I jes' callin' you ter eat
one dem fine meller apples Mist'r Rattlesnake fotch' me!'"
"Did Mist'r Adam eat it?" asked Willis with much concern.
"Who gwine hind'r him fum eatin' hit? An' de Eveses is bin pis'nin' de
Adamses ev'r sense--you 'memb'r whut Mammy tell yer, an' look out fur
'em."
"Why didn't Mist'r Adam kill Mist'r Rattlesnake?" he resented.
"'Caze his own sin done make him er coward, dat's de trufe!--Whin er man
do mean an' low life tricks hisse'f, he ain' got de face ter stan' up an'
whup nobody fur doin' de same thing; but Adam didn't hatt'r whup de
Sarpint 'caze de Lawd knock 'im flat 'pon de groun' an' tromp on 'im, an'
tell 'im he got ter crawl de res' er his life, ter keep up wid his low
down ways."
Mary Van's voice sounded from the gate, "I can't open it."
Willis sprang to her assistance, but Phyllis caught him: "Will yer run
right straight back, ef Mammy let yer onfas'n de gate?"
The promise was given, and in a moment Willis returned with: "Mammy, less
show Mary Van m' two lit'le green snakes." He was off in a second, but
Phyllis again detained him.
"Nummine 'bout dem gyrt'r snakes,--I ain' got start'd ter tellin' 'bout
Mist'r Rattlesnake yit. Come on hyah Ma'y Van, an' set down on de grass,
an' Mammy gwine spread out her ap'on fur you ter set on, 'caze she hatt'r
hole dis wiggly boy in her lap."
"I want to see Willis's snakes," demurred the little girl.
Phyllis looked thoughtfully a moment, then throwing her hands up suddenly,
"I wond'r is enybody got de news 'bout Mist'r Rattlesnake's toofake? You
ain' heah nuthin' is yer, Ma'y Van?"
Mary Van shook her head in the negative.
"Who you shakin' dat haid at, gal?"
"No, ma'm," quickly corrected the child.
"De las' time de snake doct'r come by hyah, he wus huntin' fur some yerbs
ter put in Mist'r Rattlesnake's toof," continued the old woman in an
interested tone. "Miss Eve, she tell de doct'r ter g'long an' git de same
kind er yerbs he give fur rattlesnake bite, dat Mist'r Rattlesnake jes'
got mad an' bite his own se'f, an' dat whut ail his toof."
"Who made him mad?" Mary Van knelt on the edge of the apron.
"De Lawd make him mad whin He tell him he can't git no mo' free vit'als
out'n Eden. De Lawd say, 'Nor, suh, yer got ter wurk, an' sweat, an' crawl
fur vit'als de res' er yo' life--an' you an' Miss Eve gwine fight one
nuth'r tell one er yer gits kilt.'"
"When are they going to fight?" asked Willis eagerly.
"Dey fit dat ve'y day; an' whin hit git too hot fur Miss Eve, she take an'
jump on top er ole man Elerphant's back 'fo' Mist'r Rattlesnake cud git
her. He try ter crope up ole man Elerphant's legs, but Elerphant keep his
foots wurkin' s' much, an' his snout flyin' roun' s' tur'bul, dat Mist'r
Rattlesnake hatt'r keep out'n de way. Miss Eve she set up an' laf' at him,
an' dat make Mist'r Rattlesnake so mad, he rip an' tar', an' fome at de
mouf, an' mos' turn hisse'f wrong side out'ards tryin' ter hop up an' bite
Miss Eve. Miss Eve she th'ow herse'f eroun' laffin' an' say: 'Ynan, ynan,'
at 'im, tell Mist'r Rattlesnake git so mad he jes' up, an' bite his own
se'f."
"Did it kill him?" Mary Van crawled further on the apron and sat beside
the little boy.
"Hit wud er kilt him ef he hadn't er run'd an' got dem rattlesnake yerbs
mouty quick,--an' dat's howcum Miss Eveses' chilluns know how ter kyore
rattlesnake bite."
"How, Mammy?" demanded Willis.
"'Caze Miss Eve watch de yerbs Mist'r Rattlesnake eat ter swage his pis'n,
den she tell her chilluns ter eat de same kine ef he ev'r bite dem."[2]
[2] The old Cherokee Indian cure for rattlesnake poison is "Robin
Plantain, Sweet Fern, Pine Snake root, Salve Weed, Devil's Shoe
String, Wild Rosemary, and Red Joint." It was said that by infuriating
the reptile until a wound was self-inflicted and then observing his
selection of herbs as a remedy, the Indians found the antidote for
rattlesnake bite. Reptiles that were bitten and kept in confinement
died, while those allowed freedom to select and bite the herbs,
recovered.
"Did Mist'r Rattlesnake bite Miss Eve's children?" asked Willis.
"He bite 'em ev'y time he git er chanct."
"But it don't kill them, because they know how to get cured, don't they,
Mammy Phyllis?" Mary Van disliked tragedy.
"Miss Eve's Injun chillun kyores derse'f, but de res' er de fambly dies."
"No, Mist'r Rattlesnake shan't bite Miss Eve's children," said Mary Van,
shaking her curls.
"You late in de day gittin' in yo' sayso, 'caze Mist'r Rattlesnake bite
you ef you fools wid 'im; he ain' nuv'r git in er good hum'r wid nobody
sense de Lawd make him wurk fur his livin'. He bin crawlin' crookid, an'
doin' fokes crookid ev'r sense."
"How does he work?" Willis pulled her face to him.
"He wurk makin' uth'r fokes do his wurk fur 'im, dat's how he wurk. His
ole 'ooman an' de chillun keep de sto', an' Unk Toad Frog try ter wurk de
farm fur 'im, but Mist'r Rattlesnake done eat up so miny er de Toad Frog
fambly dat Unk Toad ain' got nuf han's lef' ter make er crap. He tell
Mist'r Rattlesnake ef he doan git sumbody ter hope him, he ain' gwine have
no corn, so Mist'r Rattlesnake take out down de big road huntin' fur farm
han's, he do. He come ter er passel er Hop'r Grasses settin' down on de
side de road doin' nuthin', an' he tell 'em ef dey come an' hope him raise
er crap er corn, he'll give 'em ha'f de crap. Well, suh, dem Hop'r Grasses
plow an' hoe, an' weed, an' pick bugs off an'--"
"Mammy, don't call them 'hopper grasses,' Mary Van says you must say
'Grass-hoppers.'"
"In de name er de Lawd, whut do Ma'y Van know 'bout varmints an' beastes?"
"My papa says you must call them Grass-hoppers," protested Mary Van.
"I doan speck Mist'r Hop'r Grass menshun ter yo' pa dat Hop'r wus jes' er
nickname, did he?"
The little girl was obliged to acknowledge that no such communication had
taken place.
"Den he ain' got no 'pin'ons ter scat'r on de subjec'--Hop'r Grass say he
wush ter de Lawd fokes'd stop nam'n' him hine part b'fo', ennyhow. He say
he plum ti'ed white fokes med'lin' in his 'far's--"
"Mammy, go on about Mister Rattlesnake," Willis began to fidget.
"Set still den, lemme see whar 'bouts I wus at--"
"The Hopper Grasses were working in the field," Mary Van prompted.
"Dat's de trufe, dat's jes' whar dem po' things wus at. Lawdee, how dem
varmints jes' nachelly wurk derse'fs mouty nigh ter death. Bimeby, de corn
'gun ter tos'l an' git ripe, an' Mist'r Rattlesnake see de harves' ain'
fur off, an' he know he bleeg'd ter 'vide dat corn wid dem Hop'r Grasses.
He lay out on de creek bank an' study how he gwine ter cheat 'em. One day
de Hop'r Grasses wus er settin' down in de shade er de corn jes' waitin'
fur Mist'r Rattlesnake ter give de wurd ter go ter cuttin', whin Mist'r
Rattlesnake crope up ter de back er de fiel' an' clim' on top er de fence
an' give er crack er his tail so loud dat de po' Hop'r Grasses scat'r all
ov'r de country ev'y which er way. Dey wus so skeer'd, hit take 'em er
long time fo' dey darsen't ter come back ter see whut 'twus skeer'd 'em.
By dat time, Mist'r Rattlesnake had done trench hisse'f on dis side de
law. Yas, suh, he tak'n his seat 'pon top er dat gate, an' 'fuse ter let
er one on 'em come in de fiel'. He tell 'em dey done flew'd off an' lef'
him 'fo' harves' time, an' dee done broke der corntrack, an' no law ain'
gwine hole him ter his'n, an' dey mout jes' es well ter g'long off an' git
ernuth'r job."
"Didn't the Hopper Grasses fight him?" Willis' fists closed at the
thought.
"Fight? Whut chanct wud dey had 'ginst dat low down Rattlesnake?" lifting
Mary Van from her apron and trying to pull herself up by the bushes. "Dey
done whut ev'ybody does dat runs up 'ginst snake law--dey got swindl'd."
"What's snake law?" he tried to assist her.
"Snake law is sin law, doan you nuv'r fergit dat," she smoothed her apron
out, and adjusted the little boy's blouse, "an' whin you gits ter be er
big man like yo' pa, jes' recoleck whut yo' Mammy tole yer, dat law whut
ain't right right, is snake law, an' dem whut foll'rs 'long b'hime hit has
got ter go in er crook'd track. 'Memb'r dat long es you live, Mammy's
man."
Willis again begged to show Mary Van the green snakes, when Phyllis
exclaimed, "Sakes er live, look at de peaches dat nigg'r Zeek is got."
XV
MISS QUEEN BEE
"Keep way fum dem bee hives, yer hyah?" admonished Phyllis from her old
rocking chair under the cherry tree, where she alternately dozed and kept
watch on the children playing around her in the yard.
"Mammy, the bees are all crawling out of the hive," exclaimed Willis.
"Lawdy mussy, dem bees fixin' ter swarm!" then raising her voice,
"Zeek'l,--ah Zeek!--come quick, yer bees fixin' ter swarm!"
Zeek came running up through the garden, with a tin pan and stick in hand
calling, "Which way'd dey go?"
But the bees answered the question themselves, for at that moment they
started in the direction of the garden. Zeek began to beat furiously upon
the tin pan, while the children screamed in excitement as they beheld the
bees hover a moment above Zeek's head, then descend one and all upon his
hat. Many straggling ones crawled about his face, one in its distraction
landed upon his eyelid, closing the eye.
Zeek walked steadily without batting the open eye, until he reached an
empty gum. There with the assistance of Phyllis, he carefully relieved his
head of its dangerous burden.
"Whew!" he exclaimed, wiping the perspiration from his head, "dat's de
out-bangin'es' hivin' I ev'r done in all m' life, an' dat hive in dat ole
gum ain't wurth er cent," he ended reflectively.
"Howcum yer sayso?"
"Lawd, Phyllis," he replied pushing his hat on the back of his head and
folding his arms across his chest, "you'se he'rd er menny time dat
"'De bees dat swarms in May,
Is wurth er load er hay,
De bees dat swarms in June
Is wurth er silv'r spoon;
Dem dat swarms in July
Ain't wurth er house fly.'
An' dem bees er swarmin' hyah in Argus' ain' wurth nuthin' but ter show
you whut er bee-hiv'r I is."
"Hit show pertic'ler you ain' nuthin' ter make honey out'n," Phyllis
laughed.
"I ain' notice none uv 'em smackin' der mouf' ov'r you yerse'f, Sis'
Phyllis," he retorted grinning.
"Bees don't eat people, Uncle Zeek," Mary Van endeavored to explain, "they
just sting them like hornets do."
"Does dey, honey? Well, I boun' none uv 'em ain' gwine wase er sting on
dat ole black bag er salt ov'r yond'r," pointing at Phyllis.
"My Mammy's not any old black salt either!" And Willis squeezed her around
the neck.
"She's er ole black nigg'r, dat's whut she is," teased Zeek.
"She's not black!--and she's not a nigger either!" and he began to kiss
her face.
"Name er de Lawd, ef she ain't er nigg'r, an' she ain' black, whut is
she?" Zeek thoroughly enjoyed the little boy's very evident discomfort.
"She's my Mammy,--and she's purty like my mama." Willis was dangerously
near tears, as he left Phyllis's lap and made for Zeek. "I'll hit you if
you call my mammy a nigger."
Mary Van had thrown an iron toy at him, whereupon Phyllis interfered.
"G'long an' 'ten' ter yer biznes', Zeek,--I'm gwine call Miss Lucy ef you
starts dese chillun ter cryin'.--Chillun, youall bring yer lit'le cheers
yond'r an' set hyah in front uv Mammy, an' she'll tell yer 'bout Miss
Queen Bee an' her fambly."
"Mammy, what made Miss Queen Bee move out from her house just now?" Willis
interposed.
"'Caze she wanter git erway f'um An' Polly Parrit--she say she ti'ed An'
Polly pokin' her nose in her biznes'."
"Papa says she has to move 'cause her children take up all the room."
Willis gave this information with an air of knowing more on the subject.
"Dar now, yer hyah de preach'r, doan yer?" chuckling and looking with
pride upon him.
"I speck you done outgrow'd dat confab Miss Queen Bee speak wid me too,
ain't yer?"
Willis did not entirely gather her meaning, but he replied:
"My papa says they won't sting you if you don't bother 'em."
"Aha, yo' pa tole de trufe--'cep'n sometimes. Bees is cur'us creeturs, I
tell yer dey is. Dey ain' nuthin' but er passel er fokes wid wings on 'em.
Ole Miss Queen Bee settin' up dar, make 'em walk er chalk line, she do.
She de law--she sho' is. Ef she say fight,--dey fights. Ef she say, ax
der pard'n,--dey axes hit. But,--" and she hesitated, rubbing her arm,
"dey is sometimes whin bees gits jes' like crazy fokes an' loses all der
senses."
"That's when they swarm, ain't it, Mammy?" suggested Willis
authoritatively.
"'Tain't no sich er thing,--You done give out all de knowin' you know'd
'bout bees. Set still an' lis'n ter sumbody else," reverting to her
subject. "Dis time I'm talkin' 'bout wus whin triberlashun 'pon
triberlashun hap'n ter Miss Queen's fokes.
"One day Miss Queen Bee's chillun was gittin' honey out'n de clov'r wid
Miss Black Bee's chilluns. De Bizzy Bees notice Miss Black Bee's fokes
doan seem ter be totin' much honey back and furrards, but dey ain' got no
time ter confab, so dey doan say nuthin'. Bimeby, Miss Queen Bee see one
de Black Bee fokes come in wid her chillun, an' she notice he ain' brung
no honey in wid him, but she do notice dat he tak'n considerbul out wid
'im."
"Mammy, my papa says they ain't any little bees that don't work except the
drones," corrected the little boy.
"Lemme tell yer sump'in, yo' pa know mo' 'bout pol'tics dan he do 'bout
bees. 'Caze I knows whin bees starts ter stealin', dey's de bigges' rogues
in de woel. An' dese black bees whut I'm talkin' 'bout, wus scan'lus
steal'rs, too. Bimeby, hyah come sum mo', an' mo', tell Miss Queen holl'r
out fur her fightin' squad! Dem Bizzy Bee boys swarms quick whin dey heahs
de war holl'r, an' 'tain' long 'fo' de Bizzy Bees an' de Black Bees wus er
buzzin' an' er clippin' at one nuth'r's wings, tell de wings wus fallin',
'round thick es gnats. I tell yer Miss Queen Bee's chillun had er mouty
hard fight ter keep der honey, but bimeby dey run all de Black Bees off
'cep'n dem whut dey kilt."
"The Black Bees didn't hurt any of Miss Queen's children, did they?" asked
Mary Van.
"'Cose some uv 'em got hurt'd, an' some uv 'em wint so far es ter git
kilt, but--"
"Wasn't Miss Queen mighty sorry for 'em?" sympathized the little girl.
"She ain' know nuthin' 'bout hit, 'caze Miss Queen Bee's chillun dat gits
sick er hurted doan nuv'r come home. Nor, suh, dey g'long off an' die by
derse'f."
"I don't want 'em to go off. I want all of them to sleep with their mama
till they get well;" Mary Van nudged the old woman's knee, "make 'em go
and tell their mama wherebouts they hurt."
"No, mam, Miss Queen say she ain' got no time ter nuss nobody, 'caze
Mist'r Rattlesnake crawlin' 'roun' her gum right now, an' she gittin'
pow'ful nervious. She know Mist'r Rattlesnake know how rich wid honey she
is, an' Rattlesnake know her boys comes home wid der pockits full ev'y
trip. Ole Grab-All Spider know hit, too, an' he crope up on de uth'r side
er de gum ter ketch de Bee boys whin dey lights. Whin Miss Queen see
Mist'r Rattlesnake an' ole Grab-All Spider settin' 'long side er her do',
she sen' Buzzy Drone Bee ter tell de fightin' squad ter git reddy ter
fight ergin whin dey heahs de war holl'r."
"Why didn't she ask Mister Man to help her?" Willis stood up and leaned
against her knee.
"Miss Queen ain' gwine ax nobody ter hope her do nuthin'. She fixin' ter
have er set'lement herse'f, but jes' es she fixin' ter git reddy, Mist'r
Rattlesnake an' ole Grab-All Spider start ter gobblin' de Bee boys es dey
lights."
"Please, Mammy, make 'em stop!" Mary Van was up tugging at Phyllis'
shoulder. "Quick, Mammy, before they eat any more!"
"Lawd, chillun, Miss Queen so mis'erbul 'bout dem chillun, she plum crazy
by now--she tell her chillun ter light out fum dar an' sting ev'y thing
dey kin git on, an' dey does hit, too, fer de Bizzy Bees allus tends to
dey biznes'."
"They stung old Grab-All and old Rattlesnake first, didn't they?" Willis
was half in her lap.