Uncle Remus Stories

by Joel Chandler Harris

MISS COW FALLS

  A VICTIM TO MR. RABBIT.

  “Uncle Remus,” said the little boy, “what became of the Rabbit after he fooled the Buzzard, and got out of the hollow tree?”

  “Who? Brer Rabbit? Bless yo’ soul, honey, Brer Rabbit went skippin’ ‘long home, he did, des ez sassy ez a jay-bird at a sparrer’s nes’. He went gallopin’ ‘long, he did, but he feel mighty tired out, en stiff in his jints, en he wuz mighty nigh dead for sumpin fer ter drink, en bimeby, wen he got mos’ home, he spied ole Miss Cow feedin’ roun’ in a fiel’, he did, en he ‘termin’ fer ter try his han’ wid ‘er. Brer Rabbit know mighty well dat Miss Cow won’t give ‘im no milk, kaze she done ‘fuse ‘im mo’n once, en w’en his ole ‘oman wuz sick, at dat. But never mind dat. Brer Rabbit sorter dance up ‘long side er de fence, he did, en holler out:

  “’Howdy, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’W’y, howdy, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Miss Cow, sez she.

  “’How you fine yo’se’f deze days, Sis Cow?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’I’m sorter toler’ble, Brer Rabbit; how you come on?’ sez Miss Cow, sez she.

  “’Oh, I’m des toler’ble myse’f, Sis Cow; sorter linger’n’ twix’ a bauk en a break-down,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’How yo’ fokes, Brer Rabbit?’ sez Miss Cow, sez she.

  “’Dey er des middlin’, Sis Cow; how Brer Bull gittin’ on?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Sorter so-so,’ sez Miss Cow, sez she.

  “’Dey er some mighty nice ‘simmons up dis tree, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en I’d like mighty well fer ter have some un um,’ sezee.

  “’How you gwineter git um, Brer Rabbit?’ sez she.

  “’I ‘low’d maybe dat I might ax you fer ter butt ‘gin de tree, en shake some down, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “C’ose Miss Cow don’t wanter diskommerdate Brer Rabbit, en she march up ter de ‘simmon tree, she did, en hit it a rap wid ‘er hawns — blam! Now, den,” continued Uncle Remus, tearing off the corner of a plug of tobacco and cramming it into his mouth — “now, den, dem ‘simmons wuz green ez grass, en na’er one never drap. Den Miss Cow butt de tree — blim! Na’er ‘simmon drap. Den Miss Cow sorter back off little, en run agin de tree — blip! No ‘simmons never drap. Den Miss Cow back off little fudder, she did, en hi’st her tail on ‘er back, en come agin de tree, kerblam! en she come so fas’, en she come so hard, twel wunner her hawns went spang thoo de tree, en dar she wuz. She can’t go forreds, en she can’t go backerds. Dis zackly w’at Brer Rabbit waitin’ fer, en he no sooner seed ole Miss Cow all fas’en’d up dan he jump up, he did, en cut de pidjin-wing.

  “’Come he’p me out, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Miss Cow, sez she.

  “’I can’t clime, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘but I’ll run’n tell Brer Bull,’ sezee; en wid dat Brer Rabbit put out fer home, en ‘twan’t long ‘fo here he come wid his ole ‘oman en all his chilluns, en de las’ wunner de fambly wuz totin’ a pail. De big uns had big pails, en de little uns had little pails. En dey all s’roundid ole Miss Cow, dey did, en you hear me, honey, dey milk’t ‘er dry. De ole uns milk’t en de young uns milk’t, en den w’en dey done got nuff, Brer Rabbit, he up’n say, sezee:

  “’I wish you mighty well, Sis Cow. I ‘low’d bein’s how dat you’d hatter sorter camp out all night dat I’d better come en swaje yo’ bag,’ sezee.”

  “Do which, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.

  “Go ‘long, honey! Swaje ‘er bag. W’en cows don’t git milk’t, der bag swells, en youk’n hear um a moanin’ en a beller’n des like dey wuz gittin’ hurtid. Dat’s w’at Brer Rabbit done. He ‘sembled his fambly, he did, en he swaje ole Miss Cow’s bag.

  “Miss Cow, she stood dar, she did, en she study en study, and strive fer ter break loose, but de hawn done bin jam in de tree so tight dat twuz way ‘fo day in de mornin’ ‘fo’ she loose it. Ennyhow hit wuz endurin’ er de night, en atter she git loose she sorter graze ‘roun’, she did, fer ter jestify ‘er stummuck. She ‘low’d, ole Miss Cow did, dat Brer Rabbit be hoppin’ ‘long dat way fer ter see how she gittin’ on, en she tuck’n lay er trap fer ‘im; en des ‘bout sunrise wat’d ole Miss Cow do but march up ter de ‘simmon tree en stick er hawn back in de hole? But, bless yo’ soul, honey, w’ile she wuz croppin’ de grass, she tuck one moufull too menny, kaze w’en she hitch on ter de ‘simmon tree agin, Brer Rabbit wuz settin’ in de fence cornder a watchin’ un ‘er. Den Brer Rabbit he say ter hisse’f:

  “’Heyo,’ sezee, ‘w’at dis yer gwine on now? Hole yo’ losses, Sis Cow, twel you hear me comin’,’ sezee.

  “En den he crope off down de fence, Brer Rabbit did, en bimeby here he come — lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity — des a sailin’ down de big road.

  “’Mawnin’, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘how you come on dis mawnin’?’ sezee.

  “’Po’ly, Brer Rabbit, po’ly,’ sez Miss Cow, sez she. ‘I ain’t had no res’ all night,’ sez she. ‘I can’t pull loose,’ sez she, ‘but ef you’ll come en ketch holt er my tail, Brer Rabbit,’ sez she, ‘I reckin may be I kin fetch my hawn out,’ sez she. Den Brer Rabbit, he come up little closer, but he ain’t gittin’ too close.

  “’I speck I’m nigh nuff, Sis Cow,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘I’m a mighty puny man, en I might git trompled,’ sezee. ‘You do de pullin’, Sis Cow,’ sezee, ‘en I’ll do de gruntin’,’ sezee.

  Den Miss Cow, she pull out ‘er hawn, she did, en tuck atter Brer Rabbit, en down de big road dey had it, Brer Rabbit wid his years laid back, en Miss Cow wid ‘er head down en ‘er tail curl. Brer Rabbit kep’ on gainin’, en bimeby he dart in a brier-patch, en by de time Miss Cow come ‘long he had his head stickin’ out, en his eyes look big ez Miss Sally’s chany sassers.

  “’Heyo, Sis Cow! Whar you gwine?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Howdy, Brer Big-Eyes,’ sez Miss Cow, sez she. ‘Is you seed Brer Rabbit go by?’

  “’He des dis minit pas,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en he look mighty sick,’ sezee.

  “En wid dat, Miss Cow tuck down de road like de dogs wuz atter ‘er, en Brer Rabbit, he des lay down dar in de brier-patch en roll en laff twel his sides hurtid ‘im. He bleedzd ter laff. Fox atter ‘im, Buzzard atter ‘im, en Cow atter ‘im, en dey ain’t kotch ‘im yit.”

  X.

  MR. TERRAPIN APPEARS

  UPON THE SCENE.

  “Miss Sally’s” little boy again occupying the anxious position of auditor, Uncle Remus took the shovel and “put de noses er de chunks tergedder,” as he expressed it, and then began:

  “One day, atter Sis Cow done run pas’ ‘er own shadder tryin’ fer ter ketch ‘im, Brer Rabbit tuck’n ‘low dat he wuz gwineter drap in en see Miss Meadows en de gals, en he got out his piece er lookin’-glass en primp up, he did, en sot out. Gwine canterin’ ‘long de road, who should Brer Rabbit run up wid but ole Brer Tarrypin — de same ole one-en-sixpunce. Brer Rabbit stop, he did, en rap on de roof er Brer Tarrypin house.”

  “On the roof of his house, Uncle Remus?” interrupted the little boy.

  “Co’se, honey, Brer Tarrypin kare his house wid ‘im. Rain er shine, hot er cole, strike up wid ole Brer Tarrypin w’en you will en w’ilst you may, en whar you fine ‘im, dar you’ll fine his shanty. Hit’s des like I tell you. So den! Brer Rabbit he rap on de roof er Brer Tarrypin’s house, he did, en ax wuz he in, en Brer Tarrypin ‘low dat he wuz, en den Brer Rabbit, he ax ‘im howdy, en den Brer Tarrypin he likewise ‘spon’ howdy, en den Brer Rabbit he say whar wuz Brer Tarrypin gwine, en Brer Tarrypin, he say w’ich he wern’t gwine nowhar skasely. Den Brer Rabbit ‘low he wuz on his way fer ter see Miss Meadows en de gals, en he ax Brer Tarrypin ef he won’t jine in en go long, en Brer Tarrypin ‘spon’ he don’t keer ef he do, en den dey sot out. Dey had plenty er time fer confabbin’ ‘long de way, but bimeby dey got dar, en Miss Meadows en de gals dey come ter de do’, dey did, en ax um in, en in dey went.

  “
W’en dey got in, Brer Tarrypin wuz so flat-footed dat he wuz too low on de flo’, en he wern’t high nuff in a cheer, but while they wuz all scramblin’ ‘roun’ tryin’ fer ter git Brer Tarrypin a cheer, Brer Rabbit, he pick ‘im up en put ‘im on de shelf whar de water-bucket sot, en ole Brer Tarrypin, he lay back up dar, he did, des es proud ez a nigger widder cook ‘possum.

  “Co’se de talk fell on Brer Fox, en Miss Meadows en de gals make a great ‘miration ‘bout w’at a gaily ridin’hoss Brer Fox wuz, en dey make lots er fun, en laff en giggle same like gals duz deze days. Brer Rabbit, he sot dar in de cheer smokin’ his seegyar, en he sorter kler up his th’oat, en say, sezee:

  “’I’d er rid ‘im over dis mawnin’, ladies,’ sezee, ‘but I rid ‘im so hard yistiddy dat he went lame in de off fo’ leg, en I speck I’ll hatter swop ‘im off yit,’ sezee.

  “Den Brer Tarrypin, he up’n say, sezee:

  “’Well, ef you gwineter sell ‘im, Brer Rabbit,’ sezee, ‘sell him some’rs outen dis naberhood, kase he done bin yer too long now,’ sezee. ‘No longer’n day ‘fo’ yistiddy,’ sezee, ‘Brer Fox pass me on de road, en whatter you reckin he say?’ sezee.

  “’Law, Brer Tarrypin,’ sez Miss Meadows, sez she, ‘you don’t mean ter say he cust?’ sez she, en den de gals hilt der fans up ‘fo’ der faces.

  “’Oh, no, ma’m,’ sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, ‘he didn’t cust, but he holler out — “Heyo Stinkin’ Jim!”’ sezee.

  “’Oh, my! You hear dat, gals?’ sez Miss Meadows, sez she; ‘Brer Fox call Brer Tarrypin Stinkin’ Jim,’ sez she, en den Miss Meadows en de gals make great wonderment how Brer Fox kin talk dat a way ‘bout nice man like Brer Tarrypin.

  “But bless grashus, honey! w’ilst all dis gwine on, Brer Fox wuz stannin’ at de back do’ wid one year at de cat-hole lissenin’. Eave-drappers don’t hear no good er deyse’f, en de way Brer Fox wuz ‘bused dat day wuz a caution.

  “Bimeby Brer Fox stick his head in de do’, en holler out:

  “’Good evenin’, fokes, I wish you mighty well,’ sezee, en wid dat he make a dash fer Brer Rabbit, but Miss Meadows en de gals dey holler en squall, dey did, en Brer Tarrypin he got ter scramblin’ roun’ up dar on de shelf, en off he come, en blip he tuck Brer Fox on de back er de head. Dis sorter stunted Brer Fox, en w’en he gedder his ‘membunce de mos’ he seed wuz a pot er greens turnt over in de fireplace, en a broke cheer. Brer Rabbit wuz gone, en Brer Tarrypin wuz gone, en Miss Meadows en de gals wuz gone.”

  “Where did the Rabbit go, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked, after a pause.

  “Bless yo’ soul, honey! Brer Rabbit he skint up de chimbly — dats w’at turnt de pot er greens over. Brer Tarrypin, he crope under de bed, he did, en got behime de cloze-chist, en Miss Meadows en de gals, dey run out in de yard.

  “Brer Fox, he sorter look roun’ en feel er de back er his head, whar Brer Tarrypin lit, but he don’t see no sine er Brer Rabbit. But de smoke en de ashes gwine up de chimbly got de best er Brer Rabbit, en bimeby he sneeze — huckychow!

  “’Aha!’ sez Brer Fox, sezee: ‘youer dar, is you?’ sezee. ‘Well, I’m gwineter smoke you out, ef it takes a mont’. Youer mine dis time,’ sezee. Brer Rabbit ain’t sayin’ nuthin’.

  “’Ain’t you comin’ down?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee. Brer Rabbit ain’t sayin’ nuthin’. Den Brer Fox, he went out atter some wood, he did, en w’en he come back he hear Brer Rabbit laffin’.

  “’W’at you laffin’ at, Brer Rabbit?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Can’t tell you, Brer Fox,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Better tell, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “”Taint nuthin but a box er money somebody done gone en lef’ up yer in de chink er de chimbly,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Don’t b’leeve you,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Look up en see,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, en w’en Brer Fox look up, Brer Rabbit spit his eyes full er terbarker joose, he did, en Brer Fox, he make a break fer de branch, en Brer Rabbit he come down en tole de ladies good-by.

  “’How you git ‘im off, Brer Rabbit?’ sez Miss Meadows, sez she.

  “’Who? me?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘w’y I des tuck en tole ‘im dat ef he didn’t go ‘long home en stop playin’ his pranks on spectubble fokes, dat I’d take ‘im out and th’ash ‘im,’ sezee.”

  “And what became of the Terrapin?” asked the little boy.

  “Oh, well den!” exclaimed the old man, “chilluns can’t speck ter know all ‘bout everything ‘fo’ dey git some res’. Dem eyeleds er yone wanter be propped wid straws dis minnit.”

  XI.

  MR. WOLF MAKES

  A FAILURE.

  “I lay yo’ ma got comp’ny,” said Uncle Remus, as the little boy entered the old man’s door with a huge piece of mince-pie in his hand, “en ef she aint got company, den she done gone en drap de cubberd key som’ers whar you done run up wid it.”

  “Well, I saw the pie lying there, Uncle Remus, and I just thought I’d fetch it out to you.”

  “Tooby sho, honey,” replied the old man, regarding the child with admiration. “Tooby sho, honey; dat changes marters. Chrismus doin’s is outer date, en dey aint got no bizness layin’ roun’ loose. Dish yer pie,” Uncle Remus continued, holding it up and measuring it with an experienced eye, “will gimme strenk fer ter persoo on atter Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit en de udder beastesses w’at dey roped in ‘long wid um.”

  Here the old man paused, and proceeded to demolish the pie — a feat accomplished in a very short time. Then he wiped the crumbs from his beard and began:

  “Brer Fox feel so bad, en he git so mad ‘bout Brer Rabbit, dat he dunno w’at ter do, en he look mighty downhearted. Bimeby, one day wiles he wuz gwine ‘long de road, ole Brer Wolf come up wid ‘im. W’en dey done howdyin’ en axin’ atter one nudder’s fambly kunnexshun, Brer Wolf, he ‘low, he did, dat der wuz sump’n wrong wid Brer Fox, en Brer Fox, he ‘low’d der wern’t, en he went on en laff en make great ter-do kaze Brer Wolf look like he spishun sump’n. But Brer Wolf, he got mighty long head, en he sorter broach ‘bout Brer Rabbit’s kyar’ns on, kaze de way dat Brer Rabbit ‘ceive Brer Fox done got ter be de talk er de naberhood. Den Brer Fox en Brer Wolfdey sorter palavered on, dey did, twel bimeby Brer Wolf he up’n say dat he done got plan fix fer ter trap Brer Rabbit. Den Brer Fox say how. Den Brer Wolf up’n tell ‘im dat de way fer ter git de drap on Brer Rabbit wuz ter git ‘im in Brer Fox house. Brer Fox dun know Brer Rabbit uv ole, en he know dat sorter game done wo’ ter a frazzle, but Brer Wolf, he talk mighty ‘swadin’.

  “’How you gwine git ‘im dar?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’Fool ‘im dar,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee.

  “’Who gwine do de foolin’?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’I’ll do de foolin’,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee, ‘ef you’ll do de gamin’,’ sezee.

  “’How you gwine do it?’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.

  “’You run ‘long home, en git on de bed, en make like you dead, en don’t you say nuthin’ twel Brer Rabbit come en put his han’s onter you,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee, ‘en ef we don’t git ‘im fer supper, Joe’s dead en Sal’s a widder,’ sezee.

  “Dis look like mighty nice game, en Brer Fox ‘greed. So den he amble off home, en Brer Wolf, he march off ter Brer Rabbit house. W’en he got dar, hit look like nobody at home, but Brer Wolf he walk up en knock on de do’ — blam! blam! Nobody come. Den he lam aloose en knock ‘gin — blim! blim!

  “’Who dar?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Fr’en’,’ sez Brer Wolf.

  “’Too menny fr’en’s spiles de dinner,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; ‘w’ich un’s dis?’ sezee.

  “’I fetch bad news, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee.

  “’Bad news is soon tole,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “By dis time Brer Rabbit done come ter de do’, wid his head tied up in a red hankcher.

  “’Brer Fox died dis mawnin’,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee.
>
  “’Whar yo’ mo’nin’ gown, Brer Wolf?’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “’Gwine atter it now,’ sez Brer Wolf, sezee. ‘I des call by fer ter bring de news. I went down ter Brer Fox house little bit ‘go, en dar I foun’ ‘im stiff,’ sezee.

  “Den Brer Wolf lope off. Brer Rabbit sot down en scratch his head, he did, en bimeby he say ter hisse’f dat he b’leeve he sorter drap ‘roun’ by Brer Fox house fer ter see how de lan’ lay. No sooner said’n done. Up he jump, en out he went. W’en Brer Rabbit got close ter Brer Fox house, all look lonesome. Den he went up nigher. Nobody stirrin’. Den he look in, en dar lay Brer Fox stretch out on de bed des ez big ez life. Den Brer Rabbit make like he talkin’ to hisse’f.

  “’Nobody ‘roun’ fer ter look atter Brer Fox — not even Brer Tukkey Buzzard ain’t come ter de funer’l,’ sezee. ‘I hope Brer Fox ain’t dead, but I speck he is,’ sezee. ‘Even down ter Brer Wolf done gone en lef’ ‘im. Hit’s de busy season wid me, but I’ll set up wid ‘im. He seem like he dead, yit he mayn’t be,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘W’en a man go ter see dead fokes, dead fokes allers raises up der behime leg en hollers, wahoo!’ sezee.

  “Brer Fox he stay still. Den Brer Rabbit he talk little louder:

  “’Mighty funny. Brer Fox look like he dead, yit he don’t do like he dead. Dead fokes hists der behime leg en hollers wahoo! w’en a man come ter see um,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

  “Sho’ nuff, Brer Fox lif’ up his foot en holler wahoo! en Brer Rabbit he tear out de house like de dogs wuz atter ‘im.’ Brer Wolf mighty smart, but nex’ time you hear fum ‘im, honey, he’ll be in trouble. You des hole yo’ breff’n wait.”

  XII.

  MR. FOX TACKLES

  OLD MAN TARRYPIN.

  “One day,” said Uncle Remus, sharpening his knife on the palm of his hand — “one day Brer Fox strike up wid Brer Tarrypin right in de middle er de big road. Brer Tarrypin done heerd ‘im comin’, en he ‘low ter hissef dat he’d sorter keep one eye open; but Brer Fox wuz monstus perlite, en he open up de confab, he did, like he ain’t see Brer Tarrypin sence de las’ freshit.