Uncle Remus His Songs and His Sayings

By Joel Chandler Harris

1881

PREFACE AND DEDICATION

TO THE NEW EDITION

To Arthur Barbette Frost:

DEAR FROST:

I am expected to supply a preface for this new edition of my first

book-to advance from behind the curtain, as it were, and make a

fresh bow to the public that has dealt with Uncle Remus in so

gentle and generous a fashion. For this event the lights are to be

rekindled, and I am expected to respond in some formal way to an

encore that marks the fifteenth anniversary of the book. There

have been other editions-how many I do not remember-but this is

to be an entirely new one, except as to the matter: new type, new

pictures, and new binding.

But, as frequently happens on such occasions, I am at a loss for a

word. I seem to see before me the smiling faces of thousands of

children-some young and fresh, and some wearing the friendly

marks of age, but all children at heart-and not an unfriendly face

among them. And out of the confusion, and while I am trying hard

to speak the right word, I seem to hear a voice lifted above the rest,

saying "You have made some of us happy." And so I feel my heart

fluttering and my lips trembling, and I have to how silently and

him away, and hurry back into the obscurity that fits me best.

Phantoms! Children of dreams! True, my dear Frost; but if you

could see the thousands of letters that have come to me from far

and near, and all fresh from the hearts and hands of children, and

from men and women who have not forgotten how to be children,

you would not wonder at the dream. And such a dream can do no

harm. Insubstantial though it may be, I would not at this hour

exchange it for all the fame won by my mightier brethren of the

pen-whom I most humbly salute.

Measured by the material developments that have compressed

years of experience into the space of a day, thus increasing the

possibilities of life, if not its beauty, fifteen years constitute the old

age of a book. Such a survival might almost be said to be due to a

tiny sluice of green sap under the gray bark. where it lies in the

matter of this book, or what its source if, indeed, it be really

there-is more of a mystery to my middle age than it was to my

prime.

But it would be no mystery at all if this new edition were to be

more popular than the old one. Do you know why? Because you

have taken it under your hand and made it yours. Because you have

breathed the breath of life into these amiable brethern of wood and

field. Because, by a stroke here and a touch there, you have

conveyed into their quaint antics the illumination of your own

inimitable humor, which is as true to our sun and soil as it is to the

spirit and essence of the matter set forth.

The book was mine, but now you have made it yours, both sap and

pith. Take it, therefore, my dear Frost, and believe me, faithfully

yours,

Joel Chandler Harris

INTRODUCTION

I am advised by my publishers that this book is to be included in

their catalogue of humorous publications, and this friendly

warning gives me an opportunity to say that however humorous it

may be in effect, its intention is perfectly serious; and, even if it

were otherwise, it seems to me that a volume written wholly in

dialect must have its solemn, not to say melancholy, features. With

respect to the Folk-Lore scenes, my purpose has been to preserve

the legends themselves in their original simplicity, and to wed

them permanently to the quaint dialect-if, indeed, it can be called a

dialect-through the medium of which they have become a part of

the domestic history of every Southern family; and I have

endeavored to give to the whole a genuine flavor of the old

plantation.

Each legend has its variants, but in every instance I have retained

that particular version which seemed to me to be the most

characteristic, and have given it without embellishment and

without exaggeration.

The dialect, it will be observed, is wholly different from that of the

Hon. Pompey Smash and his literary descendants, and different

also from the intolerable misrepresentations of the minstrel stage,

but it is at least phonetically genuine. Nevertheless, if the language

of Uncle Remus fails to give vivid hints of the really poetic

imagination of the negro; if it fails to embody the quaint and

homely humor which was his most prominent characteristic; if it

does not suggest a certain picturesque sensitiveness-a curious

exaltation of mind and temperament not to be defined by words

-then I have reproduced the form of the dialect merely, and not the

essence, and my attempt may be accounted a failure. At any rate, I

trust I have been successful in presenting what must be, at least to

a large portion of American readers, a new and by no means

unattractive phase of negro character-a phase which may be

considered a curiously sympathetic supplement to Mrs. Stowe's

wonderful defense of slavery as it existed in the South. Mrs.

Stowe, let me hasten to say, attacked the possibilities of slavery

with all the eloquence of genius; but the same genius painted the

portrait of the Southern slave-owner, and defended him.

A number of the plantation legends originally appeared in the

columns of a daily newspaper-The Atlanta Constitution and in that

shape they attracted the attention of various gentlemen who were

kind enough to suggest that they would prove to be valuable

contributions to myth-literature. It is but fair to say that

ethnological considerations formed no part of the undertaking

which has resulted in the publication of this volume. Professor J.

W. Powell, of the Smithsonian Institution, who is engaged in an

investigation of the mythology of the North American Indians,

informs me that some of Uncle Remus's stories appear in a number

of different languages, and in various modified forms, among the

Indians; and he is of the opinion that they are borrowed by the

negroes from the red-men. But this, to say the least, is extremely

doubtful, since another investigator (Mr. Herbert H. Smith, author

of Brazil and the Amazons) has met with some of these stories

among tribes of South American Indians, and one in particular he

has traced to India, and as far east as Siam. Mr. Smith has been

kind enough to send me the proof-sheets of his chapter on The

Myths and Folk-Lore of the Amazonian Indians, in which he

reproduces some of the stories which he gathered while exploring

the Amazons.

In the first of his series, a tortoise falls from a tree upon the head

of a jaguar and kills him; in one of Uncle Remus's stories, the

terrapin falls from a shelf in Miss Meadows's house and stuns the

fox, so that the latter fails to catch the rabbit. In the next, a jaguar

catches a tortoise by the hind-leg as he is disappearing in his hole;

but the tortoise convinces him he is holding a root, and so escapes;

Uncle Remus tells how the fox endeavored to drown the terrapin,

but turned him loose because the terrapin declared his tail to be

only a stump-root. Mr. Smith also gives the story of how the

tortoise outran the deer, which is identical as to incident with

Uncle Remus's story of how Brer Tarrypin outran Brer Rabbit.

Then there is the story of how the tortoise pretended that he was

stronger than the tapir. He tells the latter he can drag him into the

sea, but the tapir retorts that he will pull the tortoise into the forest

and kill him besides. The tortoise thereupon gets a vine-stem, ties

one end around the body of the tapir, and goes to the sea, where he

ties the other end to the tail of a whale. He then goes into the

wood, midway between them both, and gives the vine a shake as a

signal for the pulling to begin. The struggle between the whale and

tapir goes on until each thinks the tortoise is the strongest of

animals. Compare this with the story of the terrapin's contest with

the bear, in which Miss Meadows's bed-cord is used instead of a

vine-stem. One of the most characteristic of Uncle Remus's stories

is that in which the rabbit proves to Miss Meadows and the girls

that the fox is his riding-horse. This is almost identical with a story

quoted by Mr. Smith, where the jaguar is about to marry the deer's

daughter. The cotia-a species of rodent-is also in love with her,

and he tells the deer that he can make a riding-horse of the jaguar.

"Well," says the deer, "if you can make the jaguar carry you, you

shall have my daughter." Thereupon the story proceeds pretty

much as Uncle Remus tells it of the fox and rabbit. The cotia

finally jumps from the jaguar and takes refuge in a hole, where an

owl is set to watch him, but he flings sand in the owl's eyes and

escapes. In another story given by Mr. Smith, the cotia is very

thirsty, and, seeing a man coming with a jar on his head, lies down

in the road in front of him, and repeats this until the man puts

down his jar to go back after all the dead cotias he has seen. This

is almost identical with Uncle Remus's story of how the rabbit

robbed the fox of his game. In a story from Upper Egypt, a fox lies

down in the road in front of a man who is carrying fowls to

market, and finally succeeds in securing them.

This similarity extends to almost every story quoted by Mr. Smith,

and some are so nearly identical as to point unmistakably to a

common origin; but when and where? when did the negro or the

North American Indian ever come in contact with the tribes of

South America? Upon this point the author of Brazil and the

Amazons, who is engaged in making a critical and comparative

study of these myth-stories, writes:

"I am not prepared to form a theory about these stories. There can

be no doubt that some of them, found among the negroes and the

Indians, had a common origin. The most natural solution would be

to suppose that they originated in Africa, and were carried to South

America by the negro slaves. They are certainly found among the

Red Negroes; but, unfortunately for the African theory, it is

equally certain that they are told by savage Indians of the Amazons

Valley, away up on the Tapajos, Red Negro, and Tapura. These

Indians hardly ever see a negro, and their languages are very

distinct from the broken Portuguese spoken by the slaves. The

form of the stories, as recounted in the Tupi and Mundurucu'

languages, seems to show that they were originally formed in those

languages or have long been adopted in them.

is interesting to find a story from Upper Egypt (that of the fox who

pretended to be dead) identical with an Amazonian story, and

strongly resembling one found by you among the negroes.

Vambagen, the Brazilian historian (now Visconde de Rio Branco),

tried to prove a relationship between the ancient Egyptians, or

other Turanian stock, and the Tupi Indians. His theory rested on

rather a slender basis, yet it must be confessed that he had one or

two strong points. Do the resemblances between old and New

World stories point to a similar conclusion? It would be hard to

say with the material that we now have.

"One thing is certain. The animal stories told by the negroes in our

Southern States and in Brazil were brought by them from Africa.

Whether they originated there, or with the Arabs, or Egyptians, or

with yet more ancient nations, must still be an open question.

Whether the Indians got them from the negroes or from some

earlier source is equally uncertain. We have seen enough to know

that a very interesting line of investigation has been opened."

Professor Hartt, in his Amazonian Tortoise Myths, quotes a story

from the Riverside Magazine of November, 1868, which will be

recognized as a variant of one given by Uncle Remus. I venture to

append it here, with some necessary verbal and phonetic

alterations, in order to give the reader an idea of the difference

between the dialect of the cofton plantations, as used by Uncle

Remus, and the lingo in vogue on the rice plantations and Sea

Islands of the South Atlantic States:

"One time B'er Deer an' B'er Cooter (Terrapin) was courtin', and de

lady did bin lub B'er Deer mo' so dan B'er Cooter. She did bin lub

B'er Cooter, but she lub B'er Deer de morest. So de noung lady say

to B'er Deer and B'er Cooter bofe dat dey mus' hab a ten-mile race,

an de one dat beats, she will go marry him.

"So B'er Cooter say to B'er Deer: 'You has got mo longer legs dan I

has, but I will run you. You run ten mile on land, and I will run ten

mile on de water!'

"So B'er Cooter went an' git nine er his fam'ly, an' put one at ebery

mile-pos', and he hisse'f, what was to run wid B'er Deer, he was

right in front of de young lady's do', in de broom-grass.

"Dat mornin' at nine o'clock, B'er Deer he did met B'er Cooter at de

fus mile-pos', wey dey was to start fum. So he call: "Well, B'er

Cooter, is you ready? Co long!' As he git on to de nex' mile-pos', he

say: 'B'er Cooter!' B'er Cooter say: 'Hullo!' B'er Deer say: 'You

dere?' B'er Cooter say: 'Yes, B'er Deer, I dere too.'

"Nex' mile-pos' he jump, B'er Deer say: 'Hullo, B'er Cooter!' B'er

Cooter say: 'Hullo, B'er Deer! you dere too?' B'er Deer say: 'Ki! it

look like you gwine fer tie me; it look like we gwine fer de gal tie!'

"W'en he git to de nine-mile pos' he tought he git dere fus, 'cause

he mek two jump; so he holler: 'B'er Cooter!' B'er Cooter answer:

'You dere too?' B'er Deer say: 'It look like you gwine tie me.' B'er

Cooter say: 'Go long, B'er Deer. I git dere in due season time,'

which he does, and wins de race."

The story of the Rabbit and the Fox, as told by the Southern

negroes, is artistically dramatic in this: it progresses in an orderly

way from a beginning to a well-defined conclusion, and is full of

striking episodes that suggest the culmination. It seems to me to be

to a certain extent allegorical, albeit such an interpretation may be

unreasonable. At least it is a fable thoroughly characteristic of the

negro; and it needs no scientific investigation to show why he

selects as his hero the weakest and most harmless of all animals,

and brings him out victorious in contests with the bear, the wolf,

and the fox. It is not virtue that triumphs, but helplessness; it is not

malice, but mischievousness. It would be presumptious in me to

offer an opinion as to the origin of these curious myth-stories; but)

if ethnologists should discover that they did not originate with the

African, the proof to that effect should be accompanied with a

good deal of persuasive eloquence.

Curiously enough, I have found few negroes who will

acknowledge to a stranger that they know anything of these

legends; and yet to relate one of the stories is the surest road to

their confidence and esteem. In this way, and in this way only, I

have been enabled to collect and verify the folklore included in

this volume. There is an anecdote about the Irishman and the

rabbit which a number of negroes have told to me with great

unction, and which is both funny and characteristic, though I will

not undertake to say that it has its origin with the black's. One day

an Irishman who had heard people talking about "mares' nests"

was going along the big road-it is always the big road in

contradistinction to neighborhood paths and by-paths, called in the

vernacular "nigh-cuts"-when he came to a pumpkin-patch. The

Irishman had never seen any of this fruit before, and he at once

concluded that he had discovered a veritable mare's nest. Making

the most of his opportunity, he gathered one of the pumpkins in his

arms and went on his way. A pumpkin is an exceedingly awkward

thing to carry, and the Irishman had not gone far before he made a

misstep, and stumbled. The pumpkin fell to the ground, rolled

down the hill into a "brush-heap," and, striking against a stump,

was broken. The story continues in the dialect: "W'en de punkin

roll in de bresh-heap, out jump a rabbit; en soon's de I'shmuns see

dat, he take atter de rabbit en holler: 'Kworp, colty! kworp, colty!'

but de rabbit, he des flew." The point of this is obvious.

As to the songs, the reader is warned that it will be found difficult

to make them conform to the ordinary rules of versification, nor is

it intended that they should so conform. They are written, and are

intended to be read, solely with reference to the regular and

invariable recurrence of the caesura, as, for instance, the first

stanza of the Revival Hymn:

"Oh, whar / shill we go / w'en de great / day comes

Wid de blow / in' er de trumpits / en de bang / in' er de

drums /

How man / y po' sin / ners'll be kotch'd / out late

En fine / no latch ter de gold / en gate /

In other words, the songs depend for their melody and rhythm

upon the musical quality of time, and not upon long or short,

accented or unaccented syllables. I am persuaded that this fact led

Mr. Sidney Lanier, who is thoroughly familiar with the metrical

peculiarities of negro songs, into the exhaustive investigation

which has resulted in the publication of his scholarly treatise on

The Science of English Verse.

The difference between the dialect of the legends and that of the

character-sketches, slight as it is, marks the modifications which

the speech of the negro has undergone even where education has

played in deed, save in the no part reforming it. Indeed, save in

the remote country districts, the dialect of the legends has nearly

disappeared. I am perfectly well aware that the character-sketches

are without permanent interest, but they are embodied here for the

purpose of presenting a phase of negro character wholly distinct

from that which I have endeavored to preserve in the legends. Only

in this shape, and with all the local allusions, would it be possible

to adequately represent the shrewd observations, the curious

retorts, the homely thrusts, the quaint comments, and the

humorous philosophy of the race of which Uncle Remus is the

type.

If the reader not familiar with plantation life will imagine that the

myth-stories of Uncle Remus are told night after night to a little

boy by an old negro who appears to be venerable enough to have

lived during the period which he describes-who has nothing but

pleasant memories of the discipline of slavery-and who has all the

prejudices of caste and pride of family that were the natural

results of the system; if the reader can imagine all this, he will find

little difficulty in appreciating and sympathizing with the air of

affectionate superiority which Uncle Remus assumes as he

proceeds to unfold the mysteries of plantation lore to a little child

who is the product of that practical reconstruction which has been

going on to some extent since the war in spite of the politicians

Uncle Remus describes that rcconstruction in his Story of the War,

and I may as well add here for the benefit of the curious that that

story is almost literally true.

J. C. H.

CONTENTS

LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION

I. Uncle Remus initiates tbe Little Boy

II. The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story

III.Why Mr. Possum loves Peace

IV. How Mr. Rabbit was too sharp for Mr. Fox

V. The Story of the Deluge, and how it came about

VI. Mr. Rabbit grossly deceives Mr. Fox

VII. Mr. Fox is again victimized .

VIII. Mr. Fox is "outdone" by Mr. Buzzard

IX. Miss Cow falls a Victim to Mr. Rabbit

X. Mr. Terrapin appears upon the Scene

XI. Mr. Wolf makes a Failure

XII. Mr. Fox tackles Old Man Tarrypin

XIII. The Awful Fate of Mr. Wolf

XIV. Mr. Fox and the Deceitful Frogs . .

XV. Mr. Fox goes a-hunting, but Mr. Rabbit bags the Game

Xvl. Old Mr. Rabbit, he's a Good Fisherman

XVJI. Mr. Rabbit nibbles up the Butter

XVIII. Mr. Rabbit finds his Match at last

XIX. The Fate of Mr. Jack Sparrow

XX. How Mr. Rabbit saved his Meat

XXI. Mr. Rabbit meets his Match again

XXII. A Story about the Little Rabbits

XXIII. Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Bear .

XXIV. Mr. Bear catches Old Mr. Bull-Frog

XXV. How Mr. Rabbit lost his Fine Bushy Tail

XXVI. Mr. Terrapin shows his Strength.

XXVII Why Mr. Possum has no Hair on his Tail

XXVIII. The End of Mr. Bear .

XXIX. Mr. Fox gets into Serious Business

XXX. How Mr. Rabbit succeeded in raising a Dust.

XXXI. A Plantation Witch

XXXII. "Jacky-my- Lanteern"

XXXIII. Why the Negro is Black

XXXIV.-The Sad Fate of Mr. Fox

Plantation Proverbs

His Songs

I. Revival Hymn

II.Camp-Meeting Song

III. Corn-Shucking Song

IV.The Plough-hands Song

V.Chrisnas Play-Song

VI. Plantation Play-Song

VII. Transcriptions:

1. A Plantation Chant

2. A Plantation Serenade

VIII. De Big Bethel Church

IX.-Time goes by Turns

A Story of the War

His Sayings

I. Jeems Roher'son's Last Illness

II. Uncle Remus's Church Experience

III. Uncle Remus and the Savannah Darkey

IV. Tumip Salad as a Text

V. A Confession

VI. Uncle Remus with the Toothache

VII. The Phonograph

VIII. Race Improvement

IX. In the Role of a Tartar

X. A Case of Measles

XI. The Emigrants

XII. As a Murderer

XIII.His Practical View of Things

XIV.That Deceitful Jug

XV.The Florida Watermelon

XVI. Uncle Remns preaches to a Convert

XV1I. As to Education

XVIII. A Temperance Reformer

XIX. As a Weather Prophet

XX. The Old Man's Troubles

XXI. The Fourth of July

LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION

I UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY

One evening recently, the lady whom Uncle Remus calls "Miss

Sally" missed her little seven-year-old. Making search for him

through the house and through the yard, she heard the sound of

voices in the old man's cabin, and, looking through the window,

saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. His head rested against the

old man's arm, and he was gazing with an expression of the most

intense interest into the rough, weather-beaten face, that beamed

so kindly upon him. This is what "Miss Sally" heard:

"Bimeby, one day, atter Brer Fox bin doin' all dat he could fer ter

ketch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bein doin' all he could fer ter

keep 'im fum it, Brer Fox say to hisse'f dat he'd put up a game on

Brer Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n got de wuds out'n his mouf tewl Brer

Rabbit came a lopin' up de big road, lookin' des ez plump, en ez

fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-patch.

""Hol' on dar, Brer RAbbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'I ain't got time, Ber Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, sorter mendin'

his licks.

"'I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox,

sezee.

"'All right, Brer Fox, but you better holler fum whar you stan'. I'm

monstus full er fleas dis mawnin',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"'I seed Brer B'ar yistdiddy, 'sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en he sorter rake

me over de coals kaze you en me ain't make frens en live naberly,

en I tole 'im dat I'd see you.'

"Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off hinefoot sorter

jub'usly, en den he ups en sez, sezee:

"'All a settin', Brer Fox. Spose'n you drap roun' ter-morrer en take

dinner wid me. We ain't got no great doin's at our house, but I

speck de ole 'oman en de chilluns kin sorter scarmble roun' en git

up sump'n fer ter stay yo' stummick.'

"'I'm 'gree'ble, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

"'Den I'll 'pen' on you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"Nex' day, Mr. Rabbit an' Miss Rabbit got up soom, 'fo' day, en

raided on a gyarden like Miss Sally's out dar, en got some

cabbiges, en some roas'n years, en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix

up a smashin' dinner. Bimeby one er de little Rabbits, playin' ou t

in de back-yard, come runnin' in hollerin', 'Oh, ma! oh, ma! I seed

Mr. Fox a comin'!' En den Brer Rabbit he tuck de chilluns by der

years en make um set down, en den him and Miss Rabbit sorter

dally roun' waitin' for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin' for Brer

Fox. En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox ain't come. Atter

'while Brer Rabbit goes to de do', easy like, en peep out, en dar,

stickin' fum behime de cornder, wuz de tip-een' er Brer Fox tail.

Den Brer Rabbit shot de do' en sot down, en put his paws behime

his years en begin fer ter sing:

"'De place wharbouts you spill de grease,

Right dar you er boun' ter slide,

An' whar you fin' a bunch er ha'r,

You'll sholy fine de hide.'

"Nex' day, Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink, en skuze hisse'f kaze

he wuz too sick fer ter come, en he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter come en

take dinner wid him, en Brer Rabbit say he wuz 'gree'ble.

"Bimeby, w'en de shadders wuz at der shortes', Brer Rabbit he

sorter brush up en sa'nter down ter Brer Fox's house, en w'en he got

dar, he haer somebody groanin', en he look in de do' an dar he see

Brer Fox settin' up in a rockin'-cheer all wrop up wid flannil, en he

look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit look all roun', he did, but he ain't

see no dinner. De dish-pan wuz settin' on de table, en close by wuz

a kyarvin' knife.

"'Look like you gwintee have chicken fer dinner, Brer Fox,' sez

Brer Rabbit, sezee.

"'Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice, en fresh, en tender, 'sez Brer Fox,

sezee.

"Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull hiss mustarsh, en say: 'You ain't got

no calamus root, is you, Brer Fox? I done got so now dat I can't eat

no chicken 'ceppin she's seasoned up wid calamus root.' En wid dat

Brer Rabbit lipt out er de do' and dodge 'mong the bushes, en sot

dar watchin' for Brer Fox; en he ain't watch long, nudder, kaze Brer

Fox flung off de flannil en crope out er de house en got whar he

could cloze in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer Rabbit holler out:

'Oh, Brer Fox! I'll des put yo' calamus root out yer on dish yer

stump. Better come git it while hit's fresh,' and wid dat Brer Rabbit

gallop off home. En Brer Fox ain't never kotch 'im yit, en w'at's

mo', honey, he ain't gwineter."

II. THE WONDERFUL TAR BABY STORY

"Didn't the fox never catch the rabbit, Uncle Remus?" asked the

little boy the next evening.

"He come mighty nigh it, honey, sho's you born--Brer Fox did. One

day atter Brer Rabbit fool 'im wid dat calamus root, Brer Fox went

ter wuk en got 'im some tar, en mix it wid some turkentime, en fix

up a contrapshun w'at he call a Tar-Baby, en he tuck dish yer

Tar-Baby en he sot 'er in de big road, en den he lay off in de bushes

fer to see what de news wuz gwine ter be. En he didn't hatter wait

long, nudder, kaze bimeby here come Brer Rabbit pacin' down de

road--lippity-clippity, clippity -lippity--dez ez sassy ez a jay-bird.

Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit come prancin' 'long twel he spy

de Tar-Baby, en den he fotch up on his behime legs like he wuz

'stonished. De Tar Baby, she sot dar, she did, en Brer Fox, he lay

low.

"`Mawnin'!' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee - `nice wedder dis mawnin','

sezee.

"Tar-Baby ain't sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox he lay low.

"`How duz yo' sym'tums seem ter segashuate?' sez Brer Rabbit,

sezee.

"Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, en lay low, en de Tar-Baby, she

ain't sayin' nuthin'.

"'How you come on, den? Is you deaf?' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

'Kaze if you is, I kin holler louder,' sezee.

"Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"'You er stuck up, dat's w'at you is,' says Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'en I;m

gwine ter kyore you, dat's w'at I'm a gwine ter do,' sezee.

"Brer Fox, he sorter chuckle in his stummick, he did, but Tar-Baby

ain't sayin' nothin'.

"'I'm gwine ter larn you how ter talk ter 'spectubble folks ef hit's de

las' ack,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Ef you don't take off dat hat en

tell me howdy, I'm gwine ter bus' you wide open,' sezee.

"Tar-Baby stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"Brer Rabbit keep on axin' 'im, en de Tar-Baby, she keep on sayin'

nothin', twel present'y Brer Rabbit draw back wid his fis', he did,

en blip he tuck 'er side er de head. Right dar's whar he broke his

merlasses jug. His fis' stuck, en he can't pull loose. De tar hilt 'im.

But Tar-Baby, she stay still, en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"`Ef you don't lemme loose, I'll knock you agin,' sez Brer Rabbit,

sezee, en wid dat he fotch 'er a wipe wid de udder han', en dat

stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain'y sayin' nuthin', en Brer Fox, he lay low.

"`Tu'n me loose, fo' I kick de natal stuffin' outen you,' sez Brer

Rabbit, sezee, but de Tar-Baby, she ain't sayin' nuthin'. She des hilt

on, en de Brer Rabbit lose de use er his feet in de same way. Brer

Fox, he lay low. Den Brer Rabbit squall out dat ef de Tar-Baby

don't tu'n 'im loose he butt 'er cranksided. En den he butted, en his

head got stuck. Den Brer Fox, he sa'ntered fort', lookin' dez ez

innercent ez wunner yo' mammy's mockin'-birds.

"`Howdy, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. `You look sorter stuck

up dis mawnin',' sezee, en den he rolled on de groun', en laft en laft

twel he couldn't laff no mo'. `I speck you'll take dinner wid me dis

time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, en I ain't

gwineter take no skuse,' sez Brer Fox, sezee."

Here Uncle Remus paused, and drew a two-pound yam out of the

ashes.

"Did the fox eat the rabbit?" asked the little boy to whom the story

had been told.

"Dat's all de fur de tale goes," replied the old man. "He mout, an

den agin he moutent. Some say Judge B'ar come 'long en loosed

'im - some say he didn't. I hear Miss Sally callin'. You better run

'long."

III WHY MR. POSSUM LOVES PEACE

"ONE night," said Uncle Remus-taking Miss Sally's little boy on

his knee, and stroking the child's hair thoughtfully and caressingly-

"one night Brer Possum call by fer Brer Coon, 'cordin' ter

greement, en atter gobblin' up a dish er fried greens en smokin' a

seegyar, dey rambled fort' fer ter see how de ballance er de