Chapter 10 - Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation by Joel Harris

BROTHER RABBIT’S RIDDLE

“Could Brother Rabbit pat a tune, sure enough, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy, his thoughts apparently dwelling upon the new accomplishment of Brother Rabbit at which the old man had hinted in his story of Mr. Benjamin Ram. Uncle Remus pretended to be greatly surprised that any one could be so unfamiliar with the accomplishments of Brother Rabbit as to venture to ask such a question. His response was in the nature of a comment:

“Name er goodness! w’at kinder pass dish yer we comin’ ter w’en a great big grow’d up young un axin’ ‘bout Brer Rabbit? Bless yo’ soul, honey! dey wa’n’t no chune gwine dat Brer Rabbit can’t pat. Let ’lone dat, w’en dey wuz some un else fer ter do de pattin’, Brer Rabbit kin jump out inter de middle er de flo’ en des nat’ally shake de eyel’ds off’en dem yuther creeturs. En ‘t wa’n’t none er dish yer bowin’ en scrapin’, en slippin’ en slidin’, en han’s all ‘roun’, w’at folks does deze days. Hit uz dish yer up en down kinder dancin’, whar dey des lips up in de a’r fer ter cut de pidjin-wing, en lights on de flo’ right in de middle er de double-shuffle. Shoo! Dey aint no dancin’ deze days; folks’ shoes too tight, en dey aint got dat limbersomeness in de hips w’at dey uster is. Dat dey aint.

“En yit,” Uncle Remus continued, in a tone which seemed to imply that he deemed it necessary to apologize for the apparent frivolity of Brother Rabbit,-“en yit de time come w’en olé Brer Rabbit ’gun ter put dis en dat tergedder, en de notion strak ‘im dat he better be home lookin’ atter de intruss er he fambly, ‘stidder trapesin’ en trollopin’ ‘roun’ ter all de frolics in de settlement. He tuck’n study dis in he min’ twel bimeby he sot out ‘termin’ fer ter ’arn he own livelihoods, en den he up’n lay off a piece er groun’ en plant ’im a tater-patch.

“Brer Fox, he see all dish yer gwine on, he did, en he ’low ter hisse’f dat he ’speck Brer Rabbit rashfulness done bin supjued kaze he skeer’d, en den Brer Fox make up his min’ dat he gwine ter pay Brer Rabbit back fer all he ’seetfulness. He start in, Brer Fox did, en fum dat time forrerd he aggervate Brer Rabbit ’bout he tater-patch. One night he leave de draw-bars down, ‘n’er night he fling off de top rails, en nex’ night he t’ar down a whole panel er fence, en he keep on dis a-way twel ’pariently Brer Rabbit dunner w’at ter do. All dis time Brer Fox keep on foolin’ wid de tater-patch, en w’en he see w’ich Brer Rabbit aint makin’ no motion, Brer Fox ‘low dat he done skeer’d sho’ ’nuff, en dat de time done come fer ter gobble him up bidout lief er license. So he call on Brer Rabbit, Brer Fox did, en he ax ’im will he take a walk. Brer Rabbit, he ax wharbouts. Brer Fox say, right out yander. Brer Rabbit, he ax w’at is dey right out yander? Brer Fox say he know whar dey some mighty fine peaches, en he want Brer Rabbit fer ter go ’long en climb de tree en fling um down. Brer Rabbit say he don’t keer ef he do, mo’ speshually fer ter ’blige Brer Fox.

“Dey sot out, dey did, en atter w’ile, sho’ ’nuff, dey come ter de peach-orchud, en Brer Rabbit, w’at do he do but pick out a good tree, en up he clum. Brer Fox, he sot hisse’f at de root er de tree, kaze he ’low dat w’en Brer Rabbit come down he hatter come down backerds, en den dat ’ud be de time fer ter nab ‘im. But, bless yo’ soul, Brer Rabbit dun see w’at-Brer Fox atter ‘fo’ he clum up. W’en he pull de peaches, Brer Fox say, sezee:

“’Fling um down yer, Brer Rabbit-fling um right down yer so I kin ketch um,’ sezee.

“Brer Rabbit, he sorter wunk de furdest eye fum Brer Fox, en he holler back, he did:

“’Ef I fling um down dar whar you is, Brer Fox, en you misses um, dey’ll git squshed,’ sezee, ’so I’ll des sorter pitch um out yander in de grass whar dey won’t git bus’,’ sezee.

“Den he tuck’n flung de peaches out in de grass, en w’iles Brer Fox went atter um, Brer Rabbit, he skint down outer de tree, en hustle hisse’f twel he git elbow-room. W’en he git off little ways, he up ’n holler back ter Brer Fox dat he got a riddle he want ’im ter read. Brer Fox, he ax w’at is it. Wid dat, Brer Rabbit, he gun it out ter Brer Fox lak a man sayin’ a speech:

“’Big bird rob en little bird sing,
De big bee zoon en little bee sting,
De little man lead en big hoss foller-
Kin you tell w’at’s good fer a head in a holler?’

“Olé Brer Fox scratch he head en study, en study en scratch he head, but de mo’ he study de wuss he git mix up wid de riddle, en atter w’ile he tuck’n tell Brer Rabbit dat he dunno how in de name er goodness ter onriddle dat riddle.

“’Come en go ‘longer me,’ sez olé Brer Rabbit, sezee, ‘en I boun’ you I show you how ter read dat same riddle. Hit ’s one er dem ar kinder riddle,’ sez olé man Rabbit, sezee, ’w’ich ‘fo’ you read ’er you got ter eat a bait er honey, en I done got my eye sot on de place whar we kin git de honey at,’ sezee.

“Brer Fox, he ax wharbouts is it, en Brer Rabbit, he say up dar in olé Brer B’ar cotton-patch, whar he got a whole passel er bee-gums. Brer Fox, he ’low, he did, dat he aint got no sweet-toof much, yit he wanter git at de innerds er dat ar riddle, en he don’t keer ef he do go ’long.

“Dey put out, dey did, en ’t wa’n’t long ‘fo’ dey come ter olé Brer B’ar bee-gums, en olé Brer Rabbit, he up’n gun um a rap wid he walkin’-cane, des lak folks thumps water-millions fer ter see ef dey er ripe. He tap en he rap, en bimeby he come ter one un um w’ich she soun’ like she plum full, en den he go ‘roun’ behime it, olé Brer Rabbit did, en he up’n say, sezee:

“’I’ll des sorter tilt ‘er up, Brer Fox,’ sezee, ‘en you kin put yo’ head und’ dar en git some er de drippin’s,’ sezee.

“Brer Rabbit, he tilt her up, en, sho’ ’nuff, Brer Fox, he jam he head un’need de gum. Hit make me laugh,” Uncle Remus continued, with a chuckle, “fer ter see w’at a fresh man is Brer Fox, kaze he aint no sooner stuck he head un’need dat ar bee-gum, dan Brer Rabbit turnt ’er aloose, en down she come-ker-swosh!-right on Brer Fox neck, en dar he wuz. Brer Fox, he kick; he squeal; he jump; he squall; he dance; he prance; he beg; he pray; yit dar he wuz, en w’en Brer Rabbit git way off, en tu’n ‘roun’ fer ter look back, he see Brer Fox des a-wigglin’ en a-squ’min’, en right den en dar Brer Rabbit gun one olé-time whoop, en des put out fer home.

“W’en he git dar, de fus’ man he see wuz Brer Fox gran’daddy, w’ich folks all call ‘im Gran’sir’ Gray Fox. W’en Brer Rabbit see ’im, he say, sezee:

“‘How you come on, Gran’sir’ Gray Fox?’

“’I still keeps po’ly, I’m ‘blije ter you, Brer Rabbit,’ sez Gran’sir’ Gray Fox, sezee. ‘Is you seed any sign er my gran’son dis mawnin’?’ sezee.

“Wid dat Brer Rabbit laugh en say w’ich him en Brer Fox bin a-ramblin’ ‘roun’ wid one er’n’er havin’ mo’ fun dan w’at a man kin shake a stick at.

“‘We bin a-riggin’ up riddles en a-readin’ un um,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘Brer Fox is settin’ off some’rs in de bushes right now, aimin’ fer ter read one w’at I gun ‘im. I’ll des drap you one,’ sez olé Brer Rabbit, sezee, ’w’ich, ef you kin read it, hit’ll take you right spang ter whar yo’ gran’son is, en you can’t git dar none too soon,’ sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.

“Den olé Gran’sir’ Gray Fox, he up’n ax w’at is it, en Brer Rabbit, he sing out, he did:

“’De big bird rob en little bird sing;
De big bee zoon en little bee sting,
De little man lead en big hoss foller-
Kin you tell w’at’s good fer a head in a holler?’

“Gran’sir’ Gray Fox, he tuck a pinch er snuff en cough easy ter hisse’f, en study en study, but he aint make it out, en Brer Rabbit, he laugh en sing:

“’Bee-gum mighty big fer ter make Fox collar,
Kin you tell w’at’s good fer a head in a holler?’

“Atter so long a time, Gran’sir’ Gray Fox sorter ketch a glimpse er w’at Brer Rabbit tryin’ ter gin ’im, en he tip Brer Rabbit good-day, en shuffle on fer ter hunt up he gran’son.”

“And did he find him, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.

“Tooby sho’, honey. Brer B’ar year de racket w’at Brer Fox kickin’ up, en he go down dar fer ter see w’at de marter is. Soon ez he see how de lan’ lay, co’se he tuck a notion dat Brer Fox bin robbin’ de bee-gums, en he got ’im a han’ful er hick’ries, Brer B’ar did, en he let in on Brer Fox en he wom he jacket scannerlous, en den he tuck’n tu’n ’im loose; but ’t wa’n’t long ‘fo’ all de neighbors git wud dat Brer Fox bin robbin’ Brer B’ar bee-gums.”