African American Folktales

by Roger Abrahams

  They left the place. While they were on the way back, Black Jack did not tell White Jack that he was married to the king’s daughter. So when they came near the king’s palace, White Jack said he slept there last night with the daughter of the king. And Black Jack started to tell him it was his wife. But he was so mad that he hauled off and killed White Jack, because he had slept with his wife. Then he saw what he had done, killing this man who was like his brother and who had just saved his life. They had brought away with them the medicine which the old woman used. So Black Jack had it, and in his sorrow he brought back White Jack to life. Black Jack went home to his wife, and White Jack married to the king’s next daughter.

  And I was to the weddin’, and I got a glass a wine and a kick.

  —Antigua

  99

  PHILANEWYORK

  One time, after Master and John had worked together for a long time, they got along real easy. So it happened that Master had to leave for a while, and he wanted to test out if John could run the plantation while he was away. So he told John that he was going north to New York and could John take care of things, when in fact Master just went a little ways up the road.

  So after John thought that he had left, John called all his friends around and said, “Come on over and have a good time here. Master has gone off to Philanewyork and he won’t be back until next Javember.” So all the people on the plantation came up to the big house; they danced and sang and ate everything and just had a grand old time. Master heard about this, of course, and he blacked himself up and came to the party, and nobody there recognized him. John started into singing:

  Turn your partner ’round and ’round,

  And bring her back home again to me.

  Then, after he was dancing around for a while, he grabbed somebody and started spinning him, and he looked awfully familiar. So while he was leading the dancing he sang:

  Oh, Master, is that you?

  Oh, Master, is that you?

  Then he just kept on calling the dance:

  Swing your partner ’round and ’round,

  And bring her back home again to me.

  Master, he was sweating by now, and he had to wipe his face. So John just kind of said to himself without thinking, “Hmm, Ol’ Master’s wiped sweat off his face.” And he kept on singing and dancing:

  Swing your partner ’round and ’round,

  And bring her back home again to me.

  Now, the next time the circle went around, he could see Old Master’s face as clear as can be. Now it came to him what he was seeing. John said, “Oh, Master, is that you?” and he kept singing that over and over. Next thing you knew, John was in the next county, and he didn’t stop there either.

  —Mississippi

  100

  THE BARN IS BURNING

  During slavery time, there was a rich old master in Brunswick County that owned more than three hundred slaves. Among them was one very smart slave named Tom. What I mean by smart is that he was a smooth operator—he knew what was happening. He came to be so smart because he would crawl under the master’s house every night and listen to the master tell his wife what kind of work he was going to have the slaves do the next day. When the master would come out of the house the next morning and begin to tell the slaves what kind of work he wanted them to do that day, Old Tom would say, “Wait just a minute, Master. I know exactly what you’re going to have us do.” So the master would stop talking and let Old Tom tell the slaves what he had in mind for them to do that day. Old Tom could always tell the slaves exactly what the master wanted them to do, too; and the master was very surprised, because he didn’t know how Old Tom was getting his information.

  Old Tom wanted to prove to his master that he was the smartest slave on the plantation, because the smartest slave always got the easiest work—and Old Tom was tired of working so hard. Sometimes the masters let their smart slaves sleep in a bed in the big house, too; so Old Tom had been dreaming about how, one day maybe, he would get to sleep in a real bed instead of on an old quilt on his cabin floor. And it wasn’t long before his dreams came to be true, because the next week after Old Tom had started prophesying what work the slaves were supposed to do that day, Old Master told his wife that he thought he was going to bring Old Tom to live in the house with them. And he did, and he gave him a room to sleep in with a big old bed and everything. Old Tom was so tickled he didn’t know what to do with himself—just think, living in the same house with Old Master.

  One winter night, when the master and his wife were seated around the fire, the master called Old Tom in to test his smartness. He pointed to the fire and said, “Tom, what is that?” “That’s a fire, Old Master,” said Tom. “No, it isn’t either,” replied Old Master. “That’s a flame of evaporation.”

  Just then a cat passed in front of the fire, and Old Master said, “Tom, do you know what that was that just passed by in front of the fireplace?” “That’s a cat, sir,” replied Tom. Then Old Master said, “No, it’s not either. That’s a high-ball-a-sooner.”

  Old Tom was getting tired of answering questions by this time, so he went over to the window and started looking out. The old master walked over to the window where Tom was and said, “Tom, what is that you’re looking at through the window?” “I’m looking at a haystack,” said Tom. Then Old Master said, “That’s not a haystack, that’s a high tower.”

  Then Old Tom sat down in a chair and started getting ready to go to his room up in the attic to go to bed for the night. He didn’t want to get the carpet all spotted up with dirt in the living room, so he started unbuckling his shoes and taking them off. When the old man looked and saw Tom taking off his shoes, he said, “What are those, Tom?” And Tom said, “Those are my shoes.” “No, they aren’t either,” said Old Master. “Those are your tramp-tramps.”

  Then the old master pointed through the archway to where a bed could be seen in his bedroom, and said, “What’s that I’m pointing to in there, Tom?” “That’s a bed,” said Old Tom. “No, it’s not either,” said Old Master. “That’s a flowery bed of ease, and I’m going right now and get in it because we’ve all got a hard day’s work coming up tomorrow.”

  So the old master and the old missus went into their bedroom and went to bed. Then Old Tom went on up to the attic room where they had him sleeping and he got in his big old bed. But just then the cat ran through the fire in the fireplace and caught on fire and started raising a howl. So Tom jumped out of bed and looked, and saw the cat run out to the haystack and set it on fire. Old Tom was there at the window, and when he saw the cat on fire and the haystack on fire, he started yelling as loud as he could, “Master, Master, you better get up out of your flowery bed of ease and put on your tramp-tramps because your high-ball-a-sooner has run through your flame of evaporation and set your high tower on fire.” Old Master didn’t move a peg—he just chuckled to his wife and said, “Listen to that high-class slave up there using all that Latin.”

  Then once more Old Tom yelled out, “Master, Master, I said that you better get up out of your flowery bed of ease, and put on your tramp-tramps, because your high-ball-a-sooner has run through your flame of evaporation and set your high tower on fire.”

  But Old Master just chuckled to his wife again, and said, “That sure is a smart slave, that Tom, isn’t he? Just listen to him talking all that Latin up there again.”

  Old Tom went on yelling like this about five more times. But when he saw that Old Master wasn’t getting out of bed, he yelled, “Master, you better get up out of that bed and put on your shoes and go out there and put out that haystack fire that your cat started, or else your whole damn farm’s going to burn up!” I guess that got Old Master up pretty quick!

  —North Carolina

  INTRODUCTION

  Tricksters have no monopoly on nonsense; jocular stories abound, including ones that could almost be called entertainment “routines” because they are so fixed in form and topsyturvy in subject. Many of them are told not o
nly at tale-telling sessions but emerge in stage events of the variety shows and the “fancy talk” oratorical contests mentioned earlier.

  Few of these entertainments actually tell a story. Instead, they are the kinds of clownish routines, told in the first person, that the wits of the community seem to feel free to break into on any social situation drifting toward nonsense. They are all controlled by a kind of formulaic repetition; in fact, in some of them, the repetition provides the humor. Sometimes the routines focus on the strange sounds that animals make, as in “Animal Talk,” and underscore the ability of the performer to display his range of talents in building such sound effects in a story.

  I have placed them at the end of the book because they strongly resemble the kinds of little jokes found not only at the conclusion of tales but also in the final remarks of orations on topics as serious as the Gospel story at Christmas or the coming of the news of freedom on Emancipation Day. For, as one speechmaker from St. Vincent put it when he finished the major portion of a grandiloquent speech on Emancipation Day, “Shall I continue?” The audience shouted, “Yes!” of course, to which he replied:

  No, I will not, for if I continue these beautiful ladies will fall upon me like the falls of Niagara. No, if I go on I will break down the stage, leaving no place left for the more common orators who are to follow me. Under such circumstances, I will not, I cannot continue. But I will take my congratulations from you all, for I am an orator of orators, the cock with the brightest comb!

  101

  BIG-GUT, BIG-HEAD, STRINGY-LEG

  There were three boys went out hunting—Bro’ Big-Gut, Bro’ Big-Head, Bro’ Stringy-Leg. They traveled and traveled and traveled until they came to one hole with a banana tree in it, with one big ripe bunch of bananas on it. They wanted these bananas. And Bro’ Big-Head said to Bro’ Big-Gut, “You go up and get it, and bring it down and let me eat.” And Bro’ Big-Gut said, “No, man, you go up. My gut is too big.” So Bro’ Big-Head said to Bro’ Stringy-Leg, “You go up.” And Bro’ Stringy-Leg said, “No, man, I can’t go. My leg’s so small it may break. You go up.” Bro’ Big-Head said, “No, you go! my head’s too big. If I go, when I go, my head will burst, and I will kill myself.”

  So they all teased each other. Bro’ Big-Head went up first. Just as he was going to put his hand on the bananas, his head swung back and he fell down and he mashed up himself fine, fine. And Bro’ Gig-Gut laughed till his gut burst. Bro’ Stringy-Leg ran so (to carry the news), his leg popped.

  —Bahamas

  102

  A CHAIN OF WON’TS

  Sometime back, I went to the market and I picked up a ha’penny. All I could buy with it was a little stick. I asked the stick to beat my goat. It said, “I won’t beat the goat; it hasn’t done me any harm.” So I said to my cutlass, “Cut the stick, because the stick won’t beat the goat.” “No, I won’t cut the stick, because it hasn’t done me any harm.” Then I begged the fire, “Fire, burn the cutlass.” Fire said, “No, because the blade hasn’t done me any harm.” So I cried, “Water, put out the fire, please, because the fire won’t burn the cutlass.” Water said, “No, I won’t because the fire hasn’t done anything to me.” So I passed a bull, and said, “Bull, drink that water because it won’t put out the fire.” But Bull said, “No, because the water hasn’t done me any harm.” So I ran to the butcher and said, “Butcher, cut up that bull,” and he said, “No, because he hasn’t harmed me in any way.” So I saw a rope, and I told it to hang the butcher. “I won’t hang the butcher for he hasn’t done anything to me.” So I ran to the grease, there, and said, “Grease, grease that rope.” “I won’t grease the rope because it’s done nothing to me.” I met a cat: “Cat,” I said, “eat that grease.” “I won’t eat that grease because it has not harmed me in any way.” So I ran to my dog and said, “Dog, catch that cat.” “How can I catch that cat when it has done nothing to me?” Now I got very vexed. “Dog, catch that damned cat, for cat won’t eat grease, grease won’t grease rope, rope won’t hang butcher, butcher won’t cut bull, bull won’t drink water, water won’t drown fire, fire won’t burn cutlass, cutlass won’t cut stick, stick won’t beat kid, and I’m not going to get home before midnight the way things are going.”

  —Montserrat

  103

  ANIMAL TALK

  One said to another, “Tell the other one, other one, other one!” till the word scattered over the whole world.

  Cock said, “If it’s truuue, yes!”

  Horse stamped his foot on the earth, “What’s in my stomach, let it stay in there.” Jackass said, “The world isn’t equal!” (for if the world was level he would have to wear a cropper on his tail).

  Cow said (slowly and drawlingly), “Mas-sa wor-r-r-k ne-v-er don-n-ne!”

  Mule said (quickly and with energy), “It will done! it will done! it will done! Massa work will done!”

  Crab said, “Mustn’t trust shadows after dark!”

  Ground Dove said, “My ears! my ears! my ears!” (that is, he won’t listen to what his parents tell him).

  Hopping Dick got up on a sharp stump and White Belly got up on a tall tree and made a bet, one bet who can stay the longest without eating. Hopping Dick said, “Chem chem cherry o!”

  White Belly said,

  Coo coo coo, me hearie you!

  Coo coo coo, me hearie you!

  Hopping Dick went down to the ground and picked up a worm. White Belly stayed up in the tree all that time. White Belly fell down dead.

  —Jamaica

  104

  A COMIC CONVERSATION

  Massa came down the road on his mule.

  His boy said, “Howdy, Massa!”

  Massa said, “Thank you boy. Dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop.

  “Dinner ready, dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir; yes, sir.”

  Clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop.

  “Dinner ready, dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir; yes, sir.”

  [Pause.]

  “Howdy, Massa!”

  “Thank you boy. Dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop.

  “Dinner ready, dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir; yes, sir.”

  Clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop, clup, clop.

  “Dinner ready, dinner ready?”

  “Yes, sir; yes, sir.”

  —Jamaica

  105

  A SMOKING STORY

  Cavalier took a ride across the desert on a Camel, just because he was in love with somebody called Fatima. Philip was blasting off to Morris. Now Raleigh decided since he had made a Lucky Strike he was going down to Chesterfield’s. He had a whole pocketful of Old Gold. And so, last but not least, he decided to go on a Holiday.

  —Philadelphia

  106

  THE THINGS THAT TALKED

  One time, a man planted some nuts. He said to himself that he wasn’t going to reap them until the “hard time” came around—that’s October. But a famine came before then, so he took up his hoe, his basket, and his dog, and he went to the field to pick the nuts. When he got to the field, the hoe said, “I’m not going to dig anything!” The basket said, “I’m not going to carry anything.” The dog laughed. So the man took up his hoe to hit his dog. The hoe stick said, “Watch out, or you’ll make the dog bite me.”

  The man left his field and ran. And as he was running, he met up with a man carrying a bundle of wood on his head. And he told the man what had just happened. The man said, “And you are running away just because of that?” And the bundle of wood said, “What do you mean, are you running just because of that?”

  —Nevis

  107

  ENDINGS

  I had on a paper suit, so it looked like it was going to rain, so I couldn’t-a stayed to see it end. (Wouldn’t-a had nothing to wear home, you see.)

&nb
sp; Had on a pair of old shoes and no heels and I stepped on a slippery plank and got to sliding, and I couldn’t stop to see the end.

  —Michigan

  APPENDIX: SOURCES, ANNOTATIONS, AND INDEX OF TALES

  As I indicated in the Preface, the provenance of these stories is a fascinating part of the record of Africans in the New World. I have therefore written rather long annotations for some of the stories that have interesting histories. After giving the source of each story, with a reference to one of the bibliographical entries, I survey the scholarship on that tale, using the following abbreviations:

  Aa-Th Antti Aarne and Stith Thompson. The Types of the Folktale. Folklore Fellows Communications, no. 184. Helsinki: Finnish Scientific Academy, 1961.

  Baer Florence C. Baer. Sources and Analogues of the Uncle Remus Tales. Folklore Fellows Communications, no. 228. Helsinki: Finnish Scientific Academy, 1981.

  Bascom William Bascom. “African Folktales in America.” A series of articles appearing in Research in African Literature 8–14 (1976–82).