“ âW'y law, maw! hit's Mr. Rabbit, en yer we bin 'fraid it 'uz some 'un w'at aint got no business 'roun' yer!'
“Ole Sis Wolf she look over 'er specks, 'en snicker, en den she up'n 'low:
“ âWell, don't keep 'im stannin' out dar all night. Ax 'im in, fer goodness sake.'
“Den de gal, she tuck'n drap 'er hankcher, en Brer Rabbit, he dipt down en grab it en pass it ter 'er 'wid a bow, en de gal say she much 'bilge, kaze dat 'uz mo' den Mr. Fox 'ud er done, en den she ax Brer Rabbit how he come on, en Brer Rabbit 'low he right peart, en den he ax 'er wharbouts 'er daddy, en ole Sis Wolf 'low she go fine 'im.
“ 'Twa'n't long 'fo' Brer Rabit year Brer Wolf stompin' de mud off'n he foots in de back po'ch, en den bimeby in he come. Dey shuck han's, dey did, en Brer Rabbit say dat w'en he go callin' on he 'quaintunce, hit aint feel natchul 'ceppin' de man er de house settin' 'roun' some'rs.
“ âEf he don't talk none,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, âhe kin des set up ag'in' de chimbly-jam en keep time by noddin'.'
“But ole Brer Wolf, he one er deze yer kinder mens w'at got de whimzies,
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en he up'n 'low dat he don't let hisse'f git ter noddin' front er comp'ny. Dey run on dis away twel bimeby Brer Rabbit year de skeeters come zoonin' 'roun', en claimin' kin wid 'im.”
The little boy laughed; but Uncle Remus was very serious.
“Co'se dey claim kin wid 'im. Dey claims kin wid folks yit, let 'lone Brer Rabbit. Manys en manys de time w'en I year um sailin' 'roun' en singin' out
âCousin! Cousin!'
en I let you know, honey, de skeeters is mighty close kin w'en dey gits ter be yo' cousin.
“Brer Rabbit, he year um zoonin',” the old man continued, “en he know he got ter do some mighty nice talking', so he up'n ax fer drink er water. De gal, she tuck'n fotch it.
“ âMighty nice water, Brer Wolf.'
(De skeeters dey zoon.)
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“ âSome say it too full er wiggletails,
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Brer Rabbit.'
(De skeeters, dey zoon en dey zoon.)
“ âMighty nice place you got, Brer Wolf.'
(Skeeters dey zoon.)
“ âSome say it too low in de swamp, Brer Rabbit.'
(Skeeters dey zoon en dey zoon.)
“Dey zoon so bad,” said Uncle Remus, drawing a long breath, “dat Brer Rabbit 'gun ter git skeer'd, en w'en dat creetur git skeer'd, he min' wuk lak one er deze yer flutter-mills. Bimeby, he 'low:
“ âWent ter town t'er day, en dar I seed a sight w'at I never speckted ter see.'
“ âW'at dat, Brer Rabbit?'
“ âSpotted hoss, Brer Wolf.'
“ â
No,
Brer Rabbit!'
“ âI mos' sho'ly seed 'im, Brer Wolf.'
“Brer Wolf, he scratch he head, en de gal she hilt up 'er han's en make great 'miration 'bout de spotted hoss.
(De skeeters dey zoon, en dey keep on zoonin'.)
Brer Rabbit, he talk on, he did:
“ â'Twa'nt des one spotted hoss, Brer Wolf, twuz a whole team er spotted hosses, en dey went gallin'-up
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des lak de yuther hosses,' sezee. âLet 'lone dat, Brer Wolf, my grandaddy wuz spotted,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezzee.
“Gal, she squeal en holler out:
“ âW'y, Brer Rabbit! ain't you 'shame' yo'se'f fer ter be talkin' dat away, en 'bout yo' own 'lone blood kin too?'
“ âHit's de naked trufe I'm a ginin'
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un you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
(Skeeter zoon en come closeter.)
“Brer Wolf 'low âWell-well-well!' Ole Sis Wolf, she 'low âTooby sho'ly, tooby sho'ly!'
(Skeeter zoon en come nigher en nigher.)
Brer Rabbit 'low:
“ âYasser! Des ez sho' ez youer settin' dar, my grandaddy wuz spotted. Spotted all over.
(Skeeter come zoonin' up and light on Brer Rabbit jaw.)
He wuz dat. He had er great big spot right yer!' ”
Here Uncle Remus raised his hand and struck himself a resounding slap on the side of the face where the mosquito was supposed to be, and continued:
“No sooner is he do dis dan ne'r skeeter come zoonin' 'roun' en light on Brer Rabbit leg. Brer Rabbit, he talk en he talk:
“ âPo' ole grandaddy! I boun' he make you laff, he look so funny wid all dem spots and speckles. He had spot on de side er de head, whar I done show you, en den he had n'er big spot right yer on de leg,' sezee.”
Uncle Remus slapped himself on the leg below the knee, and was apparently so serious about it that the little boy laughed loudly. The old man went on:
“Skeeter zoon en light 'twix' Brer Rabbit shouder-blades. Den he talk:
“ âB'leeve me er not b'leeve me ef you min' too, but my grandaddy had a big black spot up yer on he back w'ich look lak saddle-mark.'
“Blip Brer Rabbit tuck hisse'f on de back!
“Skeeter sail 'roun' en zoon en light down yer beyan de hip-bone. He say he granddaddy got spot down dar.
“Blip he tuck hisse'f beyan de hip-bone.
“Hit keep on dis away,” continued Uncle Remus, who had given vigorous illustrations of Brer Rabbit's method of killing mosquitoes while pretending to tell a story, “twel bimeby ole Brer Wolf en ole Sis Wolf dey lissen at Brer Rabbit twel dey 'gun ter nod, en den ole Brer Rabbit en de gal dey sot up dar en kill skeeters right erlong.”
“Did he marry Brother Wolf's daughter?” asked the little boy.
“I year talk,” replied Uncle Remus, “dat Brer Wolf sont Brer Rabbit wud nex' day dat he kin git de gal by gwine atter 'er, but I aint never year talk 'bout Brer Rabbit gwine. De day atterwuds wuz mighty long time, en by den, Brer Rabbit moughter had some yuther projick on han'.”
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XXXVIII
The Pimmerly Plum
One night, when the little boy had grown tired of waiting for a story, he looked at Uncle Remus, and said:
“I wonder what ever became of old Brother Tarrypin.”
Uncle Remus gave a sudden start, glanced all around the cabin, and the broke into a laugh that ended in a yell like a view-halloo.
“Well, well, well! How de name er goodness come you ter know w'at runnin' on in my min', honey? Mon, you skeer'd me; you sho'ly did; en w'en I git skeer'd I bleedz ter holler. Let 'lone dat, ef I keep on gittin' skeerder en skeerder, you better gimme room, kaze ef I can't git 'way fum dar somebody gwine ter git hurted, en deyer gwine ter git hurted bad. I tell you dat right pine-blank.”
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“Ole Brer Tarrypin!” continued Uncle Remus in a tone of exultation. “Ole Brer Tarrypin! Now, who bin year tell er de beat er dat? Dar you sets studyin' 'bout ole Brer Tarrypin, en yer I sets studyin' 'bout ole Brer Tarrypin. Hit make me feel so kuse dat little mo' en I'd a draw'd my Rabbit-foot en shuck it at you.”
The little boy was delighted when Uncle Remus went off into these rhapsodies. However nonsensical they might seem to others, to the child they were positively thrilling, and he listened with rapt attention, scarcely daring to stir.
“Ole Brer Tarrypin? Well, well, well!â
“ âW'en in he prime
He tuck he time!'
“Dat w'at make he hol' he age so good. Dey tells me dat somebody 'cross dar in Jasper county, tuck'n kotch a Tarrypin w'ich he got marks cut in he back dat 'uz put dar 'fo' our folks went fer ter git revengeance in de Moccasin war. Dar whar yo' Unk' Jeems bin,” Uncle Remus explained, noticing the little boy's look at astonishment.
“Oh!” exclaimed the child, “that was the Mexican war.”
“Well,” responded Uncle Remus, closing his eyes with a sigh, “I aint one er deze yer kinder folks w'at choke deyse'f wid names. One name aint got none de 'vantage er no yuther name. En ef de Tarrypin got de marks on 'im hit don't make no diffunce whe'er yo' Unk' Jeems Abercombie git his revengeance out'n de Mocassin folks, er whe'er he got it out'n de Mackersons.”
“Mexicans, Uncle Remus.”
“Tooby sho', honey; let it go at dat. But don't less pester ole Brer Tarrypin wid it, kaze he done b'long ter a tribe all by he own 'lone se'f.âI 'clar' ter gracious,” exclaimed the old man after a pause, “ef hit don't seem periently lak 'twuz yistiddy!”
“What, Uncle Remus?”
“Oh, des ole Brer Tarrypin, honey; des ole Brer Tarrypin en a tale w'at I year 'bout 'im, how he done tuck'n do Brer Fox.”
“Did he scare him, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked, as the old man paused.
“No, my goodness! Wuss'n dat!”
“Did he hurt him?”
“No, my goodness! Wuss'n dat!”
“Did he kill him?”
“No, my goodness! Lots wuss'n dat!”
“Now, Uncle Remus, what
did
he do to Brother Fox?”
“Honey!”âhere the old man lowered his voice as if about to describe a great outrageâ“Honey! He tuck'n make a fool out'n 'im!”
The child laughed, but it was plain that he failed to appreciate the situation, and this fact caused Uncle Remus to brighen up and go on with the story.
“One time w'en de sun shine down mighty hot, ole Brer Tarrypin wuz gwine 'long down de road. He 'uz gwine 'long down, en he feel mighty tired; he puff, en he blow, en he pant. He breff come lak he got de azmy 'way down in he win'-pipe; but, nummine! he de same ole Creep-um-crawl-um Have-some-fun-um. He 'uz gwine 'long down de big road, ole Brer Tarrypin wuz, en bimeby he come ter de branch. He tuck'n crawl in, he did, en got 'im a drink er water, en den he crawl out on t'er side en set down und' de shade un a tree. Atter he sorter ketch he win', he look up at de sun fer ter see w'at time er day is it, en, lo en beholes! he tuck'n skivver dat he settin in de shade er de sycamo' tree. No sooner is he skivver dis dan he sing de old song:
“ âGood luck ter dem w'at come and go,
W'at set in de shade er de sycamo'.'
“Brer Tarrypin he feel so good en de shade so cool, dat twa'n't long fo' he got ter noddin', en bimeby he drapt off en went soun' asleep. Co'se, Brer Tarrypin kyar he house wid 'im eve'ywhar he go, en w'en he fix fer ter go ter sleep, he des shet de do' en pull too de winder-shetters, en dar he is des ez snug ez de ole black cat und' de barn.
“Brer Tarrypin lay dar, he did, en sleep, en sleep. He dunner how long he sleep, but bimeby he feel somebody foolin' 'long wid 'im. He keep de do' shet, en he lay dar en lissen. He feel somebody tu'nin' he house 'roun' en 'roun'. Dis sorter skeer Brer Terrypin, kaze he know dat ef dey tu'n he house upside down he 'ull have all sorts er times gittin' back. Wid dat, he open de do' little ways, en he see Brer Fox projickin' wid 'im. He open de do' little furder, he did, en he break out in a great big hoss-laff, en holler:
“ âWell! well, well! Who'd a thunk it! Ole Brer Fox, cuter dan de common run, is done come en kotch me. En he come at sech a time, too! I feels dat full twel I can't see straight skacely. Ef dey wuz any jealousness proned inter me, I'd des lay yer en pout kaze Brer Fox done fine out whar I gits my Pimmerly Plum.'
“In dem days,” continued Uncle Remus, speaking to the child's look of inquiry, “de Pimmerly Plum wuz monst'us skace. Leavin' out Brer Rabbit en Brer Tarrypin dey wa'n't none er de yuther creeturs dat yuvver got a glimp' un it, let 'lone a tas'e. So den w'en Brer Fox year talk er de Pimmerly Plum, bless gracious! he h'ist up he head en let Brer Tarrypin 'lone. Brer Tarrypin keep on laffin' en Brer Fox 'low:
“Hush, Brey Tarrypin! you makes my mouf water! Whar' bouts de Pimmerly Plum?'
“Brer Tarrypin, he sorter cle'r up de ho'seness in he throat, en sing:
“ âPoun' er sugar, en a pint er rum,
Aint nigh so sweet ez de Pimmerly Plum!'
“Brer Fox, he lif' up he han's, he did, en holler:
“ âOh, hush, Brer Tarrypin! you make me dribble! Whar'bouts dat Pimmerly Plum?'
“ âYou stannin' right und' de tree, Brer Fox!'
“ âBrer Tarrypin, sho'ly not!'
“ âYit dar you stan's, Brer Fox!'
“Brer Fox look up in de tree dar, en he wuz 'stonish'.”
“What did he see in the sycamore tree, Uncle Remus?” inquired the little boy.
There was a look of genuine disappointment on the old man's face, as he replied:
“De gracious en de goodness, honey! Aint you nev' is see dem ar little bit er balls w'at grow on de sycamo' tree?”
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The little boy laughed. There was a huge sycamore tree in the centre of the circle made by the carriage way in front of the “big house,” and there were sycamore trees of various sizes all over the place. The little balls alluded to by Uncle Remus are very hard at certain stages of their growth, and cling to the tree with wonderful tenacity. Uncle Remus continued:
“Well, den, w'en ole Brer Tarrypin vouch dat dem ar sycamo' balls wuz de ginnywine Pimmerly Plum, ole Brer Fox, he feel mighty good, yit he dunner how he gwine git at um. Push 'im clos't, en maybe he mought beat Brer Tarrypin clam-min' a tree, but dish yer sycamo' tree wuz too big fer Brer Fox fer ter git he arms 'roun'. Den he up'n low:
“ âI sees um hangin' dar, Brer Tarrypin, but how I gwine git um?'
“Brer Tarrypin open he do' little ways en holler out:
“ âAh-yi! Dar whar ole Slickum Slow-come got de 'vantage! Youer mighty peart, Brer Fox, yit somehow er nudder you aint bin a keepin' up wid ole Slickum Slow-come.'