Chapter 20 - Myths and Legends of the Old Plantation by Joel Harris

BROTHER RABBIT TAKES SOME EXERCISE

One night while the little boy was sitting in Uncle Remus’s cabin, waiting for the old man to finish his hoe-cake, and refresh his memory as to the further adventures of Brother Rabbit, his friends and his enemies, something dropped upon the top of the house with a noise like the crack of a pistol. The little boy jumped, but Uncle Remus looked up and exclaimed, “Ah-yi!” in a tone of triumph.

“What was that, Uncle Remus?” the child asked, after waiting a moment to see what else would happen.

“News fum Jack Fros’, honey. W’en dat hick’y-nut tree out dar year ’im comin’ she ’gins ter drap w’at she got. I mighty glad,” he continued, scraping the burnt crust from his hoe-cake with an old case-knife, “I mighty glad hick’y-nuts aint big en heavy ez grinestones.”

He waited a moment to see what effect this queer statement would have on the child.

“Yasser, I mighty glad-dat I is. ’Kaze ef hick’y-nuts ’uz big ez grinestones dish yer olé callyboose ‘ud be a-leakin’ long ‘fo’ Chris’mus.”

Just then another hickory-nut dropped upon the roof, and the little boy jumped again. This seemed to amuse Uncle Remus, and he laughed until he was near to choking himself with his smoking hoe-cake.

“You does des ’zackly lak olé Brer Rabbit done, I ‘clar’ to gracious ef you don’t!” the old man cried, as soon as he could get his breath; “dez zackly fer de worl’.”

The child was immensely flattered, and at once he wanted to know how Brother Rabbit did. Uncle Remus was in such good humor that he needed no coaxing. He pushed his spectacles back on his forehead, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and began:

“Hit come ‘bout dat soon one mawnin’ todes de fall er de year, Brer Rabbit wuz stirrin’ ‘roun’ in de woods atter some bergamot fer ter make ‘im some h’ar-grease. De win’ blow so col’ dat it make ’im feel right frisky, en eve’y time he year de bushes rattle he make lak he skeerd. He ’uz gwine on dis a-way, hoppity-skippity, w’en bimeby he year Mr. Man cuttin’ on a tree way off in de woods. He fotch up, Brer Rabbit did, en lissen fus’ wid one year en den wid de yuther.

“Man, he cut en cut, en Brer Rabbit, he lissen en lissen. Bimeby, w’iles all dis was gwine on, down come de tree-kubber-lang-bang-blam! Brer Rabbit, he tuck’n jump des lak you jump, en let ’lone dat, he make a break, he did, en he lipt out fum dar lak de dogs wuz atter ’im.”

“Was he scared, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.

“Skeerd! Who? Him? Shoo! don’t you fret yo’se’f ’bout Brer Rabbit, honey. In dem days dey wa’n’t nothin’ gwine dat kin skeer Brer Rabbit. Tooby sho’, he tuck keer hisse’f, en ef you know de man w’at ’fuse ter take keer hisse’f, I lak mighty well ef you p’int ’im out. Deed’n dat I would!”

Uncle Remus seemed to boil over with argumentative indignation.

“Well, den,” he continued, “Brer Rabbit run twel he git sorter het up like, en des ‘bout de time he makin’ ready fer ter squot en ketch he win’, who should he meet but Brer Coon gwine home atter settin’ up wid olé Brer Bull-Frog. Brer Coon see ‘im runnin’, en he hail ’im.

“‘W’at yo’ hurry, Brer Rabbit?’

“‘Aint got time ter tarry.’

“‘Folks sick?’

“‘No, my Lord! Aint got time ter tarry!’

“‘Tryin’ yo’ soopleness?’

“‘No, my Lord! Aint got time ter tarry!’

“‘Do pray, Brer Rabbit, tell me de news!’

“‘Mighty big fuss back dar in de woods. Aint got time ter tarry!’

“Dis make Brer Coon feel mighty skittish, ’kaze he fur ways fum home, en he des lipt out, he did, en went a-b’ilin’ thoo de woods. Brer Coon aint gone fur twel he meet Brer Fox.

“‘Hey, Brer Coon, whar you gwine?’

“‘Aint got time ter tarry!’

“‘Gwine at’-de doctor?’

“‘No, my Lord! Aint got time ter tarry.’

“‘Do pray, Brer Coon, tell me de news.’

“‘Mighty quare racket back dar in de woods! Aint got time ter tarry!’

“Wid dat, Brer Fox lipt out, he did, en fa’rly split de win’. He aint gone fur twel he meet Brer Wolf.

“‘Hey, Brer Fox! Stop en res’ yo’se’f!’

“‘Aint got time ter tarry!’

“‘Who bin want de doctor?’

“‘No’ne, my Lord! Aint got time ter tarry!’

“‘Do pray, Brer Fox, good er bad, tell me de news.’

“‘Mighty kuse fuss back dar in de woods! Aint got time ter tarry!’

“Wid dat, Brer Wolf shuck hisse’f loose fum de face er de yeth, en he aint git fur twel he meet Brer B’ar. Brer B’ar he ax, en Brer Wolf make ans’er, en bimeby Brer B’ar he fotch a snort en run’d off; en, bless gracious! ’t wa’n’t long ‘fo’ de las’ one er de creeturs wuz a-skaddlin’ thoo de woods lak de Olé Boy was atter um-en all ’kaze Brer Rabbit year Mr. Man cut tree down.

“Dey run’d en dey run’d,” Uncle Remus went on, “twel dey come ter Brer Tarrypin house, en dey sorter slack up ‘kaze dey done mighty nigh los’ der win’. Brer Tarrypin, he up’n ax um wharbouts dey gwine, en dey ’low dey wuz a monst’us tarryfyin’ racket back dar in de woods. Brer Tarrypin, he ax w’at she soun’ lak. One say he dunno, n’er say he dunno, den dey all say dey dunno. Den Brer Tarrypin, he up’n ax who year dis monst’us racket. One say he dunno, n’er say he dunno, den dey all say dey dunno. Dis make olé Brer Tarrypin laff ’way down in he insides, en he up’n say, sezee:

“You all kin run ‘long ef you feel skittish,’ sezee. ’Atter I cook my brekkus en wash up de dishes, ef I gits win’ er any ’spicious racket may be I mought take down my pairsol en foller long atter you,’ sezee.

“W’en de creeturs come ter make inquirements ’mungs one er n’er ’bout who start de news, hit went right spang back ter Brer Rabbit, but, lo en beholes! Brer Rabbit aint dar, en it tu’n out dat Brer Coon is de man w’at seed ‘im las’. Den dey got ter layin’ de blame un it on one er n’er, en little mo’ en dey’d er fit dar scan’lous, but olé Brer Tarrypin, he up’n ’low dat ef dey want ter git de straight un it, dey better go see Brer Rabbit.

“All de creeturs wuz ’gree’ble, en dey put out ter Brer Rabbit house. W’en dey git dar, Brer Rabbit wuz a-settin’ cross-legged in de front po’ch winkin’ he eye at de sun. Brer B’ar, he speak up:

“‘W’at make you fool me, Brer Rabbit?’

“‘Fool who, Brer B’ar?’

“’Me, Brer Rabbit, dat ‘s who.’

“‘Dish yer de fus’ time I seed you dis day, Brer B’ar, en you er mo’ dan welcome ter dat.’

“Dey all ax ’im en git de same ans’er, en den Brer Coon put in:

“‘W’at make you fool me, Brer Rabbit?’

“‘How I fool you, Brer Coon?’

“‘You make lak dey wuz a big racket, Brer Rabbit.’

“‘Dey sholy wuz a big racket, Brer Coon.’

“‘W’at kinder racket, Brer Rabbit?’

“‘Ah-yi! You oughter ax me dat fus’, Brer Coon.’

“‘I axes you now, Brer Rabbit.’

“‘Mr. Man cut tree down, Brer Coon.’

“Co’se dis make Brer Coon feel like a nat’al-born Slink, en ’t wa’n’t long ‘fo’ all de creeturs make der bow ter Brer Rabbit en mosey off home.”

“Brother Rabbit had the best of it all along,” said the little boy, after waiting to see whether there was a sequel to the story.

“Oh, he did dat a-way!” exclaimed Uncle Remus. “Brer Rabbit was a mighty man in dem days.”