Uncle Remus

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Uncle Remus Page 8

by Joel Chandler Harris


  “’Heyo, Brer Tarrypin, whar you bin dis long-comeshort?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Lounjun ‘roun’, Brer Fox, lounjun ‘roun’,’ sez Brer Tarrypin.

  “’You don’t look sprucy like you did, Brer Tarrypin,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Lounjun ‘roun’ en suffer’n’,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee.

  “Den de talk sorter run on like dis:

  “’W’at ail you, Brer Tarrypin? Yo’ eye look mighty red,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Lor’, Brer Fox, you dunner w’at trubble is. You ain’t bin lounjun ‘roun’ en suffer’n’,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee.

  “’Bofe eyes red, en you look like you mighty weak, Brer Tarrypin,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Lor’, Brer Fox, you dunner w’at trubble is,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee.

  “’W’at ail you now, Brer Tarrypin?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Tuck a walk de udder day, en man come ‘long en sot de fiel’ a-fier. Lor’, Brer Fox, you dunner w’at trubble is,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee.

  “’How you git out de fier, Brer Tarrypin?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Sot en tuck it, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. ‘Sot en tuck it, en de smoke sif’ in my eye, en de fier scorch my back,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee.

  “’Likewise hit bu’n yo’ tail off,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Oh, no, dar’s de tail, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, en wid dat he oncurl his tail fum under de shell, en no sooner did he do dat dan Brer Fox grab it, en holler out:

  “’Oh, yes, Brer Tarrypin! Oh, yes! En so youer de man w’at lam me on de head at Miss Meadows’s, is you? Youer in wid Brer Rabbit, is you? Well, I’m gwineter out you.’

  “Brer Tarrypin beg en beg, but ‘twan’t no use. Brer Fox done bin fool so much dat he look like he ‘termin’ fer ter have Brer Tarrypin haslett. Den Brer Tarrypin beg Brer Fox not fer ter drown ‘im, but Brer Fox ain’t makin’ no prommus, en den he beg Brer Fox fer ter bu’n’ im, kaze he done useter fier, but Brer Fox don’t say nuthin’. Bimeby Brer Fox drag Brer Tarrypin off little ways b’low de spring-‘ouse, en souze ‘im under de water. Den Brer Tarrypin begin fer ter holler:

  “’Tu’n loose dat stump root en ketch holt er me — tu’n loose dat stump root en ketch holt er me.’

  “Brer Fox he holler back:

  “’I ain’t got holt er no stump root, en I is got holt er you.’

  “Brer Tarrypin he keep on holler’n:

  “’Ketch holt er me — I’m a drownin’ — I’m a drownin’ — tu’n loose de stump root en ketch holt er me.’

  “Sho nuff, Brer Fox tu’n loose de tail, en Brer Tarrypin, he went down ter de bottom — kerblunkity-blink!”

  No typographical combination or description could do justice to the guttural sonorousness — the peculiar intonation — which Uncle Remus imparted to this combination. It was so peculiar, indeed, that the little boy asked:

  “How did he go to the bottom, Uncle Remus?”

  “Kerblunkity-blink!”

  “Was he drowned, Uncle Remus?”

  “Who? Ole man Tarrypin? Is you drowndid w’en yo’ ma tucks you in de bed?”

  “Well, no,” replied the little boy, dubiously.

  “Ole man Tarrypin wuz at home I tell you, honey.

  Kerblinkity-blunk!”

  XIII.

  THE AWFUL FATE

  OF MR. WOLF.

  Uncle Remus was half-soling one of his shoes, and his Miss Sally’s little boy had been handling his awls, his hammers, and his knives to such an extent that the old man was compelled to assume a threatening attitude; but peace reigned again, and the little boy perched himself on a chair, watching Uncle Remus driving in pegs.

  “Folks w’at’s allers pesterin’ people, en bodderin’ ‘longer dat w’at ain’t dern, don’t never come ter no good eend. Dar wuz Brer Wolf; stidder mindin’ un his own bizness, he hatter take en go in pardnerships wid Brer Fox, en dey want skacely a minnit in de day dat he want atter Brer Rabbit, en he kep’ on en kep’ on twel fus’ news you knowed he got kotch up wid — en he got kotch up wid monstus bad.”

  “Goodness, Uncle Remus! I thought the Wolf let the Rabbit alone, after he tried to fool him about the Fox being dead.”

  “Better lemme tell dish yer my way. Bimeby hit’ll be yo’ bed time, en Miss Sally’ll be a hollerin’ atter you, en you’ll be a whimplin’ roun’, en den Mars John’ll fetch up de re’r wid dat ar strop w’at I made fer ‘im.”

  The child laughed, and playfully shook his fist in the simple, serious face of the venerable old darkey, but said no more. Uncle Remus waited awhile to be sure there was to be no other demonstration, and then proceeded:

  “Brer Rabbit ain’t see no peace w’atsumever. He can’t leave home ‘cep’ Brer Wolf ‘ud make a raid en tote off some er de fambly. Brer Rabbit b’ilt ‘im a straw house, en hit wuz stored down; den he made a house outen pine-tops, en dat went de same way; den he made ‘im a bark house, en dat wuz raided on, en eve’y time he los’ a house he los’ wunner his chilluns. Las’ Brer Rabbit got mad, he did, en cust, en den he went off, he did, en got some kyarpinters, en dey b’ilt ‘im a plank house wid rock foundashuns. Atter dat he could have some peace en quietness. He could go out en pass de time er day wid his nabers, en come back en set by de fier, en smoke his pipe, en read de newspapers same like enny man w’at got a fambly. He made a hole, he did, in de cellar whar de little Rabbits could hide out w’en dar wuz much uv a racket in de naberhood, en de latch er de front do’ kotch on de inside. Brer Wolf, he see how de lan’ lay, he did, en he lay low. De little Rabbits wuz mighty skittish, but hit got so dat cole chills ain’t run up Brer Rabbit’s back no mo’ w’en he heerd Brer Wolf go gallopin’ by.

  “Bimeby, one day w’en Brer Rabbit wuz fixin’ fer ter call on Miss Coon, he heerd a monstus fuss en clatter up de big road, en ‘mos’ ‘fo’ he could fix his years fer ter lissen, Brer Wolf run in de do’. De little Rabbits dey went inter dere hole in de cellar, dey did, like blowin’ out a cannle. Brer Wolf wuz far’ly kivver’d wid mud, en mighty nigh outer win’.

  “’Oh, do pray save me, Brer Rabbit!’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee. ‘Do please, Brer Rabbit! de dogs is atter me, en dey’ll t’ar me up. Don’t you year um comin’? Oh, do please save me, Brer Rabbit! Hide me some’rs whar de dogs won’t git me.’

  “No quicker sed dan done.

  “’Jump in dat big chist dar, Brer Wolf,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘jump in dar en make yo’se’f at home.’

  “In jump Brer Wolf, down come de led, en inter de hasp went de hook, en dar Mr. Wolf wuz. Den Brer Rabbit went ter de lookin’-glass, he did, en wink at hisse’f, en den he drawd de rockin’-cheer in front er de fier, he did, en tuck a big chaw terbarker.”

  “Tobacco, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy, incredulously.

  “Rabbit terbarker, honey. You know dis yer life ev’lastin’ w’at Miss Sally puts ‘mong de cloze in de trunk; well, dat’s rabbit terbarker. Den Brer Rabbit sot dar long time, he did, turnin’ his mine over en wukken his thinkin’ masheen. Bimeby he got up, en sorter stir ‘roun’. Den Brer Wolf open up:

  “’Is de dogs all gone, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’Seem like I hear one un um smellin’ roun’ de chimbly-cornder des now.’

  “Den Brer Rabbit git de kittle en fill it full er water, en put it on de fier.

  “’W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’I’m fixin’ fer ter make you a nice cup er tea, Brer Wolf.’

  “Den Brer Rabbit went ter de cubberd en git de gimlet, en commence fer ter bo’ little holes in de chist-led.

  “’W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’I’m a bo’in’ little holes so you kin get bref, Brer Wolf.’

  “Den Brer Rabbit went out en git some mo’ wood, en fling it on de fier.

  “’W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’I’m a chunkin’ up de fier so you won’t git cole, Brer Wolf.’


  “Den Brer Rabbit went down inter de cellar en fotch out all his chilluns.

  “’W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’I’m a tellin’ my chilluns w’at a nice man you is, Brer Wolf.’

  “En de chilluns, dey had ter put der han’s on der moufs fer ter keep fum laffin’. Den Brer Rabbit he got de kittle en commenced fer ter po’ de hot water on de chist-lid.

  “’W’at dat I hear, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’You hear de win’ a blowin’, Brer Wolf.’

  “Den de water begin fer ter sif’ thoo.

  “’W’at dat I feel, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’You feels de fleas a bitin’, Brer Wolf.’

  “’Dey er bitin’ mighty hard, Brer Rabbit.’

  “’Tu’n over on de udder side, Brer Wolf.’

  “’W’at dat I feel now, Brer Rabbit?’

  “’Still you feels de fleas, Brer Wolf.’

  “’Dey er eatin’ me up, Brer Rabbit,’ en dem wuz de las’ words er Brer Wolf, kase de scaldin’ water done de bizness.

  “Den Brer Rabbit call in his nabers, he did, en dey hilt a regular juberlee; en ef you go ter Brer Rabbit’s house right now, I dunno but w’at you’ll fine Brer Wolfs hide hangin’ in de back-po’ch, en all bekaze he wuz so bizzy wid udder fo’kses doin’s.”

  XIV.

  MR. FOX AND

  THE DECEITFUL FROGS.

  When the little boy ran in to see Uncle Remus the night after he had told him of the awful fate of Brer Wolf, the only response to his greeting was:

  “I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker!”

  No explanation could convey an adequate idea of the intonation and pronunciation which Uncle Remus brought to bear upon this wonderful word. Those who can recall to mind the peculiar gurgling, jerking, liquid sound made by pouring water from a large jug, or the sound produced by throwing several stones in rapid succession into a pond of deep water, may be able to form a very faint idea of the sound, but it can not be reproduced in print. The little boy was astonished.

  “What did you say, Uncle Remus?”

  “I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker! I-doom-er-ker-kummer-ker!”

  “What is that?”

  “Dat’s Tarrypin talk, dat is. Bless yo’ soul, honey,” continued the old man, brightening up, “w’en you git ole ez me — w’en you see w’at I sees, en year w’at I years — de creeturs dat you can’t talk wid ‘ll be mighty skase — dey will dat. W’y, ders er old gray rat w’at uses ‘bout yer, en time atter time he comes out w’en you all done gone ter bed en sets up dar in de cornder en dozes, en me en him talks by de ‘our; en w’at dat ole rat dunno ain’t down in de spellin’ book. Des now, w’en you run in and broke me up, I wuz fetchin’ inter my mine w’at Brer Tarrypin say ter Brer Fox w’en he turn ‘im loose in de branch.”

  “What did he say, Uncle Remus?”

  “Dat w’at he said — I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker! Brer Tarrypin wuz at de bottom er de pon’, en he talk back, he did, in bubbles — I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker! Brer Fox, he ain’t sayin’ nuthin’, but Brer Bull-Frog, settin’ on de bank, he hear Brer Tarrypin, he did, en he holler back:

  “’Jug-er-rum-kum-dum! Jug-er-rum-kum-dum!’

  “Den n’er Frog holler out:

  “’Knee-deep! Knee-deep!’

  “Den ole Brer Bull-Frog, he holler back:

  “’Don’t-you-berlieve-‘im! Don’t-you-berlieve-‘im!’

  “Den de bubbles come up fum Brer Tarrypin:

  “’I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker!’

  “Den n’er Frog sing out:

  “’Wade in! Wade in!’

  “Den ole Brer Bull-Frog talk thoo his ho’seness:

  “’Dar-you’ll-fine-yo’-brudder! Dar-you’ll-fine-yo’brudder!’

  “Sho nuff, Brer Fox look over de bank, he did, en dar wuz n’er Fox lookin’ at ‘im outer de water. Den he retch out fer ter shake han’s, en in he went, heels over head, en Brer Tarrypin bubble out:

  “’I-doom-er-ker-kum-mer-ker!’”

  “Was the Fox drowned, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.

  “He wern’t zackly drowndid, honey,” replied the old man, with an air of cautious reserve. “He did manage fer ter scramble out, but a little mo’ en de Mud Turkle would er got ‘im, en den he’d er bin made hash un worril widout een’.”

  XV.

  MR. FOX GOES A-HUNTING,

  BUT MR. RABBIT BAGS THE GAME.

  “A tter Brer Fox hear ‘bout how Brer Rabbit done Brer Wolf,” said Uncle Remus, scratching his head with the point of his awl, “he ‘low, he did, dat he better not be so brash, en he sorter let Brer Rabbit ‘lone. Dey wuz all time seein’ one nudder, en ‘bunnunce er times Brer Fox could er nab Brer Rabbit, but eve’y time he got de chance, his mine ‘ud sorter rezume ‘bout Brer Wolf, en he let Brer Rabbit ‘lone. Bimeby dey ‘gun ter git kinder familious wid wunner nudder like dey useter, en it got so Brer Fox’d call on Brer Rabbit, en dey’d set up en smoke der pipes, dey would, like no ha’sh feelin’s ‘d ever rested ‘twixt um.

  “Las’, one day Brer Fox come ‘long all rig out, en ax Brer Rabbit fer ter go huntin’ wid ‘im, but Brer Rabbit, he sorter feel lazy, en he tell Brer Fox dat he got some udder fish fer ter fry. Brer Fox feel mighty sorry, he did, but he say he b’leeve he try his han’ enny how, en off he put. He wuz gone all day, en he had a monstus streak er luck, Brer Fox did, en he bagged a sight er game. Bimeby, to’rds de shank er de evening, Brer Rabbit sorter stretch hisse’f, he did, en ‘low hit’s mos’ time fer Brer Fox fer ter git ‘long home. Den Brer Rabbit, he went’n mounted a stump fer ter see ef he could year Brer Fox comin’. He ain’t bin dar long, twel sho’ nuff, yer come Brer Fox thoo de woods, singing like a nigger at a frolic. Brer Rabbit, he lipt down off’n de stump, he did, en lay down in de road en make like he dead. Brer Fox he come ‘long, he did, en see Brer Rabbit layin’ dar. He tu’n ‘im over, he did, en ‘zamine ‘im, en say, sezee:

  “’Dish yer rabbit dead. He look like he bin dead long time. He dead, but he mighty fat. He de fattes’ rabbit w’at I ever see, but he bin dead too long. I feard ter take ‘im home,’ sezee.

  “Brer Rabbit ain’t sayin’ nuthin’. Brer Fox, he sorter lick his chops, but he went on en lef Brer Rabbit layin’ in de road. Dreckly he wuz outer sight, Brer Rabbit, he jump up, he did, en run roun’ thoo de woods en git befo Brer Fox agin. Brer Fox, he come up, en dar lay Brer Rabbit, periently cole en stiff. Brer Fox, he look at Brer Rabbit, en he sorter study. Atter while he onslung his game-bag, en say ter hisse’f, sezee:

  “’Deze yer rabbits gwine ter was’e. I’ll des ‘bout leave my game yer, en I’ll go back’n git dat udder rabbit, en I’ll make fokes b’leeve dat I’m ole man Hunter fum Huntsville,’ sezee.

  “En wid dat he drapt his game en loped back up de road atter de udder rabbit, en w’en he got outer sight, ole Brer Rabbit, he snatch up Brer Fox game en put out fer home. Nex’ time he see Brer Fox, he holler out:

  “’What you kill de udder day, Brer Fox?’ sezee. “Den Brer Fox, he sorter koam his flank wid his tongue, en holler back:

  “’I kotch a han’ful er hard sense, Brer Rabbit,’ sezee.

  “Den ole Brer Rabbit, he laff, he did, en up en ‘spon,’ sezee:

  “’Ef I’d a know’d you wuz atter dat, Brer Fox, I’d a loant you some er mine,’ sezee.”

  XVI.

  OLD MR. RABBIT,

  HE’S A GOOD FISHERMAN.

  “Brer Rabbit en Brer Fox wuz like some chilluns w’at I knows un,” said Uncle Remus, regarding the little boy, who had come to hear another story, with an affectation of great solemnity. “Bofe un um wuz allers atter wunner nudder, a prankin’ en a pester’n ‘roun’, but Brer Rabbit did had some peace, kaze Brer Fox done got skittish ‘bout puttin’ de clamps on Brer Rabbit.

  “One day, w’en Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Coon, en Brer B’ar, en a whole lot un um wuz clearin’ up a new groun’ fer ter plant a roas’n’year patch, de sun ‘gun ter git sorter hot, en Brer Rabbit he
got tired; but he didn’t let on, kaze he ‘fear’d de balance un um’d call ‘im lazy, en he keep on totin’ off trash en pilin’ up bresh, twel bimeby he holler out dat he gotter brier in his han’, en den he take’n slip off, en hunt fer cool place fer ter res’. Atter w’ile he come ‘crosst a well wid a bucket hangin’ in it.

  “’Dat look cool,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en cool I speck she is. I’ll des ‘bout git in dar en take a nap,’ en wid dat in he jump, he did, en he ain’t no sooner fix hisse’f dan de bucket ‘gun ter go down.”

  “Wasn’t the Rabbit scared, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.

  “Honey, dey ain’t bin no wusser skeer’d beas’ sence de worril begin dan dish yer same Brer Rabbit. He far’ly had a ager. He know whar he cum fum, but he dunner whar he gwine. Dreckly he feel de bucket hit de water, en dar she sot, but Brer Rabbit he keep mighty still, kaze he dunner w’at minnit gwineter be de nex’. He des lay dar en shuck en shiver.

  “Brer Fox allers got one eye on Brer Rabbit, en w’en he slip off fum de new groun’, Brer Fox he sneak atter ‘im. He know Brer Rabbit wuz atter some projick er nudder, en he tuck’n crope off, he did, en watch ‘im. Brer Fox see Brer Rabbit come to de well en stop, en den he see ‘im jump in de bucket, en den, lo en beholes, he see ‘im go down outer sight. Brer Fox wuz de mos’ ‘stonish Fox dat you ever laid eyes on. He sot off dar in de bushes en study en study, but he don’t make no head ner tails ter dis kinder bizness. Den he say ter hisse’f, sezee:

  “’Well, ef dis don’t bang my times,’ sezee, ‘den Joe’s dead en Sal’s a widder. Right down dar in dat well Brer Rabbit keep his money hid, en ef ‘tain’t dat den he done gone en ‘skiver’d a gole-mine, en ef ‘tain’t dat, den I’m a gwineter see w’at’s in dar,’ sezee.

  “Brer Fox crope up little nigher, he did, en lissen, but he don’t year no fuss, en he keep on gittin’ nigher, en yit he don’t year nuthin’. Bimeby he git up close en peep down, but he don’t see nuthin’ en he don’t year nuthin’. All dis time Brer Rabbit mighty nigh skeer’d outen his skin, en he fear’d fer ter move kaze de bucket might keel over en spill him out in de water. W’ile he sayin’ his pra’rs over like a train er kyars runnin’, ole Brer Fox holler out:

 

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