Part 7

“Bimeby, Brer Rabbit look at de sun, an’ des vow he bleeze ter git home. He wish ol’ Miss Fox mighty well, an’ made his bow, an’ put out down de road at a two-forty gait. Brer Fox look kinder sheepish when his ol’ ’oman look at ’im. He say dat de idee er sleepin’ wid yo’ head off is bran new ter him. Ol’ Miss Fox ’low dat dey’s a heap er things in dis worl’ what he dunno, an’ what he won’t never fin’ out. She say, ‘Here I is a-scrimpin’ an’ a-workin’ my eyeballs out fer ter be ez good ez de bes’, an’ dar you is a projickin’ roun’ an’ not a-keerin’ whedder yo’ fambly is in de fashion er not.’ Brer Fox ’low dat ef sleepin’ wid yo’ head off is one er de fashions, he fer one ain’t keerin’ ’bout tryin’. Ol’ Miss Fox say, ‘No, an’ you ain’t a-keerin’ what folks say ’bout yo’ wife an’ fambly. No wonder Brer Rabbit had ter laugh whiles he wuz tellin’ you ’bout Craney-Crow, kaze you stood dar wid yo’ mouf open like you ain’t got no sense. It’ll be a purty tale he’ll tell his fambly ’bout de tacky Fox fambly.’

“Wid dat Ol’ Miss Fox switch away fum de winder an’ went ter cleanin’ up de house, an’ bimeby Brer Fox went in de house hopin’ dat brekfus wuz ready; but dey wa’n’t no sign er nothin’ ter eat. Atter so long a time, Brer Fox ax when he wuz gwine ter git brekfus’. His ol’ ’oman ’low dat eatin’ brekfus’ an’ gittin’ it, too, wuz one er de fashions. Ef he ain’t follerin’ fashions, she ain’t needer. He ain’t say no mo’, but went off behin’ de house an’ had a mighty time er thinkin’ an’ scratchin’ fer fleas.

“When bedtime come, ol’ Miss Fox wuz mighty tired, an’ she ain’t a-keerin’ much ’bout fashions right den. Des ez she wuz fixin’ fer ter roll ’erse’f in de kivver, Brer Fox come in fum a hunt he’d been havin’. He fotch a weasel an’ a mink wid ’im, an’ he put um in de cubberd whar dey’d keep cool. Den he wash his face an’ han’s, an’ ’low dat he’s ready fer ter have his head tooken off fer de night, ef his ol’ ’oman’ll be so good ez ter he’p ’im.

“By dat time ol’ Miss Fox had done got over de pouts, but she ain’t got over de idee er follerin’ atter de fashions, an’ so she say she’ll be glad fer ter he’p ’im do what’s right, seein’ dat he’s so hard-headed in gin’ul. Den come de knotty part. Na’er one un um know’d what dey wuz ’bout, an’ dar dey sot an’ jowered ’bout de bes’ way fer ter git de head off. Brer Fox say dey ain’t but one way, less’n you twis’ de head off, an’ goodness knows he ain’t want nobody fer ter be twis’in’ his neck, kaze he ticklish anyhow. Dat one way wuz ter take de ax an’ cut de head off. Ol’ Miss Fox, she squall, she did, an’ hol’ up her han’s like she skeer’d.

“Brer Fox sot dar lookin’ up de chimbley. Bimeby his ol’ ’oman ’low, ‘De ax look mighty skeery, but one thing I know, an’ dat ain’t two, it ain’t gwineter hurt you ef it’s de fashion. Brer Fox kinder work his under jaw, but he ain’t sayin’ nothin’. So his ol’ ’oman went out ter de woodpile an’ got de ax, an’ den she say, ‘I’m ready, honey, whenever you is,’ an’ Brer Fox, he ’spon’, ‘I’m des ez ready now ez I ever is ter be,’ an’ wid dat she up wid de ax an’ _blip!_ she tuck ’im right on de neck. De head come right off wid little er no trouble, an’ ol’ Miss Fox laugh an’ say ter herse’f dat she glad dey follerin’ de fashion at las’.

“Brer Fox sorter kick an’ squirm when de head fus’ come off, but his ol’ ’oman ’low dat dat wuz de sign he wuz dreamin’, an’ atter he lay right still she say he wuz havin’ a better night’s res’ dan what he’d had in a mighty long time. An’ den she happen fer ter think dat whiles her ol’ man done gone an’ got in de fashion, dar she wuz ready fer ter go ter bed wid ’er head on. She dunner how ter git ’er head off, an’ she try ter wake up her ol’ man, but it look like he wuz one er dem stubborn kinder sleepers what won’t be woken’d atter dey once drap off. She shake ’im an’ holler at ’im, but ’tain’t do no good. She can’t make ’im stir, spite er all de racket she make, an’ she hatter go ter bed wid her head on.

“She went ter bed, she did, but she ain’t sleep good, kaze she had trouble in de min’. She’d wake up an’ turn over, an’ roll an’ toss, an’ wonder what de yuther creeturs’d say ef dey know’d she wuz so far outer de fashion ez ter sleep wid ’er head on. An’ she had bad dreams; she dremp dat Brer Rabbit wuz laughin’ at ’er, an’ she start fer ter run at ’im, an’ de fust news she know’d de dogs wuz on her trail an’ gwine in full cry. ’Twuz dat a-way all night long, an’ she wuz mo’ dan thankful when mornin’ come.

“She try ter wake up her ol’ man, but still he won’t be woke. He lay dar, he did, an’ won’t budge, an’ bimeby ol’ Miss Fox git mad an’ go off an’ leave ’im. Atter so long a time she went back ter whar he wuz layin’, an’ he wuz des like she lef’ ’im. She try ter roust ’im up, but he won’t be rousted. She holler so loud dat Brer Rabbit which he wuz gwine by, got de idee dat she wuz callin’ him, an’ he stick his head in de do’ an’ ’low, ‘Is you callin’ me, ma’am?’

“She say, ‘La! Brer Rabbit? I ain’t know you wuz anywheres aroun’. I been tryin’ fer ter wake up my ol’ man; he mo’ lazier dis mornin’ dan I ever is know ’im ter be. Ef my house wa’n’t all to’ up, I’d ax you in an’ git you ter drag ’im out an’ git ’im up.’

“Brer Rabbit say, ‘Ef dey ain’t nothin’ de matter wid Brer Fox he’ll git up in good time.’ Ol’ Miss Fox ’low, ‘La! I dunner what you call good time. Look at de sun--it’s ’way up yander, an’ dar he is sleepin’ like a log. ’Fo’ he went ter bed he made me take his head off, an’ he ain’t woke up sence.’ ‘An’ how did you git it off, mum?’ sez ol’ Brer Rabbit, sezee. ‘I tuck an’ tuck de ax an’ cut it off,’ se’she. Wid dat Brer Rabbit flung bofe han’s over his face, an’ mosied off like he wuz cryin’. Fum de way he look you’d ’a’ thunk his heart wuz broke; yit he wa’n’t cryin’.”

“Then what was he doing, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked.

“Des a-laughin’--laughin’ fit ter kill. When ol’ Miss Fox see ’im gwine long like he wuz cryin’, she spicion’d dat sump’n wuz wrong, an’ sho ’nuff ’twuz, kaze Brer Fox ain’t wake up no mo’. She ’low, ‘Ol’ honey look like he dead, but he better be dead dan outer de fashion!’

“I take notice, honey, dat you ain’t use yo’ hankcher yit. What de matter wid you? Is yo’ weeps all dry up?”

The child laughed and stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket.

IX

WHY THE TURKEY BUZZARD IS BALD-HEADED

“Mother,” said the little boy one day, “do you know why the turkey buzzards are bald?”

“Why, no,” replied the young mother, very much surprised. “I didn’t even know they were bald. But why do you ask such a silly question?”

“Because Uncle Remus said you knew why they are bald.”

“You tell Uncle Remus,” said the grandmother, laughing heartily, “that I say he is an old rascal, and he had better behave himself.”

The way of it was this: The little boy had been walking out in the fields with Uncle Remus, and had seen, away up in the sky, two or three turkey buzzards floating lazily along on motionless wings. From the fields they had gone into the woods, and in these woods they had found what Uncle Remus had said was a buzzard’s nest. It was in a hollow tree, flat on the ground, and when they came near, the mother buzzard issued forth from the hollow, with such a hissing and flapping of wings that the little boy was frightened for a moment.

“Go on ’way fum here, you bald-headed ol’ rapscallion; ef you don’t I’ll do you wuss dan Brer Rabbit done you. Honey,” he went on, turning to the child, “you better put yo’ hankcher ter yo’ nose ef you gwineter look in dat nes’, kaze ol’ Miss Turkey Buzzard is a scandalious housekeeper.”

The child did as he was bid, and, peeping in the nest, he saw two young ones, as white as goslings. While he was peeping in he got a whiff of the odor of the buzzards, and turned and ran away from the place as hard as he could. Uncle Remus followed suit, and hobbled away as fast as his legs could carry him. When they were both out of range of the buzzard’s nest, they stopped and laughed at each other.

“You nee’nter be skeer’d dat anything’ll ketch you, honey. Dey ain’t nothin’ but a race-hoss got yo’ gait. Why, ef I hadn’t ’a’ been wid you, you’d ’a’ been home by now, kaze you’d ’a’ started when ol’ Miss Buzzard fus flew out er dat hole.”

The little boy made no denial, for he knew that what Uncle Remus said had much more than a grain of truth in it. Besides, he was thinking of other things just then. He soon made known what it was. “Why did you call the buzzard bald-headed, Uncle Remus?”

“A mighty good reason,” responded the old man. “Dey ain’t no mo’ got fedders on de top er der head dan you got ha’r in de pa’m er yo’ han’. You ketch one un um, an’ ef you kin hol’ yo’ breff long nuff ter look, you’ll see dat I’m tellin’ you de trufe. I ain’t blamin’ um fer dat, kaze dey got a mighty good reason fer bein’ bal’-headed. Dey’s mighty few folks dat know what de reason is, an’ one un um is yo’ ma. Ef you’ll kinder coax ’er, I speck she’ll tell you.”

This was what led up to the question the child had asked his mother, and was the occasion of the grandmother’s laughing remark that Uncle Remus was an old rascal.

The little boy gave Uncle Remus the full particulars the next time he saw him. The old man laughed merrily when he heard that his Miss Sally had called him an old rascal. “Talk ’bout yo’ smart wimmen folks!” he exclaimed. “Dey ain’t na’er man in de worl’ what kin hol’ a candle ter yo’ gran’ma; an’ des ez you see ’er now, dat des de way she been sence she wuz a gal. She know what you gwineter say long ’fo’ you kin git de words out ’n yo’ mouf; she kin look right thoo you an’ tell you what you thinkin’ ’bout. You may laugh all you wanter, but ef youer feelin’ bad she’ll know it. When Miss Sally goes an’ dies, dey won’t be na’er nudder somebody fer ter take her place. Dey ain’t no two ways ’bout dat.”

“I think she is getting used to mother,” the little boy remarked in his old-fashioned way--a way that was a source of constant amazement to Uncle Remus, who could hardly understand how a child could act and talk like a grown person. He regarded the child with a puzzled look, and closed his eyes with a sigh. The child had no idea that Uncle Remus was either puzzled or amazed, and so he harked back to the original problem. “Why is the buzzard bald-headed?” he asked.

“Ef yo’ ma an’ yo’ gran’ma dunno,” replied Uncle Remus, “I speck I’ll hatter tell you, an’ de bes’ way ter do dat is ter tell de tale dat de ol’ folks tol’ der chillun. What make it mo’ easy, is dat dey ain’t nothin’ er Brer Turkey Buzzard in it but his name. Ef he wuz in it hisse’f, I don’t speck you’d stay long nuff fer ter hear me tell it.” The child laughed, for he remembered how he wanted to run away from the tree when old Mrs. Buzzard came flopping out. He laughed, but said nothing, and Uncle Remus resumed:

“Dey wuz a time when Brer Rabbit live in one side uv a holler tree. One day whiles he wuz gwine pirootin’ roun’, ol’ Miss Turkey Buzzard come knockin’ at de do’, an’ when she don’t hear nothin’ she stuck ’er head in an’ look roun’. Ter see ’er den an’ see ’er now you wouldn’t know she wuz de same creetur. She had a fine top-knot on ’er head, bigger dan de one on de freezlin’ hen, which de win’ done blow all her fedders de wrong way. Yasser, she had a fine top-knot, an’ she ’uz purty good-lookin’.

“Well, suh, she peeped in, she did, an’ den she seed dat dey wa’n’t nobody in dar, needer Grandaddy Owl, ner Brer Polecat, ner Brer Rattlesnake. She take an’er look, an’ den in she walked, an’ made ’erself mighty much at home. It ain’t take ol’ Miss Buzzard long fer ter fix her nes’, kaze she ain’t want nothin’ but five sticks an’ a han’ful er leaves. She went out an’ fotch um in an’ dar she wuz. She went right straight ter housekeepin’, kaze she ain’t had ter put down no kyarpits, ner straighten out no rugs, ner move de cheers roun’, ner wash no dishes.

“Well, long todes night, er maybe a little later, Brer Rabbit come home, an’ like he mos’ allers done, he come a-laughin’. He been projickin’ wid some er de yuther creeturs, an he wuz mighty pleased wid hisse’f. When he fus’ come he ain’t take no notice er ol’ Miss Buzzard. He come in a-laughin’, an’ he laugh twel he don’t wanter laugh no mo’. But bimeby he ’gun ter take notice dat ever’thing wa’n’t des like it use ter be. He ’low, ‘Somebody done been here while I’m gone, an’ whoever ’twuz, is got a mighty bad breff.’ He keep still, kaze ’twuz mighty dark in de holler, but he keep on wigglin’ his nose an’ tryin’ ter sneeze. Bimeby, he say, ‘I dunner who ’twuz; all I know, is dat he better go see de doctor.’

“Dis ’uz too much fer ol’ Miss Buzzard, an’ she say, ‘I thank you kin’ly, Brer Rabbit! Youer in de way er makin’ frien’s wharsomever you go!’ Brer Rabbit, he jump mos’ out ’n his skin, he wuz so skeer’d. He cotch his breff an’ sneeze, an’ den he ’low, ‘Heyo, Sis Buzzard! is dat you? I thought you stayed in de trees. What win’ blow you here, an’ how is ol’ Brer Buzzard?’ She say, ‘Oh, he’s doin’ ez well ez you kin speck a man ter do; he’s ’way fum home when he oughter be dar, an’ when he’s dar, he’s in de way. Men folks is monstus tryin’, Brer Rabbit; you know dat yo’se’f.’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘I ain’t ’sputin’ what you say, but when wimmen gits out er sorts, an’ has de all-overs, ez you may say, de men folks has ter b’ar de brunt er der ailments. You kin put dat down fer a fack.’

“Dey went on dat a-way, ’sputin’ ’bout de seck twel ol’ Miss Buzzard ’gun ter git sleepy. She say, ‘Brer Rabbit, ef you took mo’ time for sleep, you’d be lots better off.’ Brer Rabbit ’low, ‘Maybe so--maybe so, Sis Buzzard, but I can’t help my habits. I’m a light sleeper, but I wuz born so, an’ if you so much ez move endurin’ er de night I’ll have one eye open.’ Ol’ Miss Buzzard say, ‘Ef dat’s de case, Brer Rabbit, I’ll thank you fer ter wake me ef you hear a snake crawlin’. Dey ain’t many things I’m afeard un, an’ one uv um is a snake.’ Brer Rabbit laugh hearty, an’ low, ‘Ef snakes wuz all dat trouble me, Sis Buzzard, I’d be mo’ dan happy. Many an’ many’s de time when I uv woke up an’ foun’ um quiled up in my britches laig.’ Miss Buzzard, she sorter flutter her wings, an’ say, ‘Oh, hush, Brer Rabbit! you gi’ me de creeps; you sho do.’

“Dat ’uz de fust night,” said Uncle Remus, flinging away a quid of tobacco and taking a fresh one. “By de nex’ day ol’ Miss Buzzard had done took up her ’bode an’ lodgin’ whar Brer Rabbit wuz livin’ at. He ain’t say nothin’, kaze he des waitin’ de time when he kin play some kinder prank on her an’ her fambly. All dat he need fer ter brace ’im up wuz ter have a mighty strong stomach, an’ he thank de Lord dat he got dat. Time went on, an’ ez any kinder soun’ egg will hatch ef you gi’ it time, so ol’ Miss Buzzard egg hatch, an’ mos’ ’fo’ you know it, ef you ain’t hatter live dar like Brer Rabbit, she hatch out her eggs an’ have a pair er mighty likely chillun, ef you kin call Buzzards likely.

“Ol’ Miss Buzzard wuz monstus proud er deze young uns, an’ de time come when she wuz hard put ter git um vittles. She’d fly off an’ dey’d holler fer sump’n ter eat when dey hear ’er come back, an’ it got so atter while dat dey’d hatter go hongry, dey wuz so ravenous. An’ den she ’gun ter look sideways at Brer Rabbit. He knew mighty well what she thinkin’ ’bout, but he ain’t say nothin’. He’d come an’ go des like ol’ Miss Buzzard want in de back part er her head, but all de time, he know’d what she plannin’ ter do, an’ he ack accordin’. He ’low ter ol’ Miss Buzzard dat he know she wanter be kinder private when she raisin’ a fambly, an’ ez dey wuz two hollers in de tree, he say he gwinter make his home in de yuther one. Miss Buzzard, she say, she did, dat Brer Rabbit wuz mighty good fer ter be thinkin’ ’bout yuther people, but Brer Rabbit make a bow an’ say he been raise dat a-way.

“But ’fo’ Brer Rabbit went in de yuther holler he made sho dat dey wuz mo’ dan one way er gittin’ out. He went in dar, he did, an’ scratch about an’ make a new bed, an’ den he git in it fer ter git it warm. He set dar wid one eye open an’ t’er one shot. He sot so still dat ol’ Miss Buzzard got de idee dat he gone abroad, an’ so when her chillun cry fer dey dinner, she say, ‘Don’t cry, honey babies; mammy gwine ter git you a good warm dinner ’fo’ long, an’ it’ll be fresh meat, too, you kin ’pen’ on dat.’ De chillun, dey cry wuss at dis, kaze dey so hongry dey don’t wanter wait a minnit. Dey say, ‘Git it now, mammy! git it now!’ Ol’ Brer Rabbit wuz settin’ in dar lis’nin’, an’ he ’low ter hisse’f, ‘It’ll tas’e mighty good when you does git it, honey babies!’ Wid dat, he skip out fum dar, an’ went off ter his laughin’-place.”

“Atter so long a time, ol’ Miss Buzzard went ’roun’ ter de yuther holler, an’ peep in. Ef Brer Rabbit had ’a’ been in dar, she wuz gwineter ax ’im how he like his new house, but he wa’n’t dar, an’ she hove a long breff, kaze when you gwineter do mischief, it seem like eve’ybody know what you gwineter do. Anyhow, she ’uz mighty glad dat Brer Rabbit wa’n’t dar fer ter look at ’er wid his pop-eyes. Den she tell her chillun dat she gwine off atter some vittles, an’ she flop ’er wings a time er two, an’ off she flew’d.

“Dey got ’long tollable well dat day an’ de nex’ but ’twant long ’fo’ der craw ’gun ter feel like a win’-bag, an’ den dey set up a cry fer mo’ vittles, an’ der mammy ain’t got no vittles fer ter gi’ um. Brer Rabbit went abroad mighty soon dat day, an’ atter he had his fill er fun an’ turnip greens he come home an’ went ter bed. He went ter bed, he did, an’ went ter sleep, but he ain’t sleep long, kaze he hear some kinder noise. He wake up, an’ open an’ shet his pop-eyes kinder slow, an’ wiggle his mouf an’ nose. He kin hear ol’ Miss Buzzard trompin’ roun’ at his front door, kinder hummin’ a chune ter herself. He say, ‘Heyo, dar! who dat projickin’ at my front do’?’ Ol’ Miss Buzzard, she say, ‘Take yo’ res’, Brer Rabbit; ’tain’t nobody but me. I got de idee dat some un wuz pirootin’ roun’ de place, an’ I des got up fer ter see dat everything wuz all right.’

“Brer Rabbit say, ‘It’s mighty dark in here,’ an’ ‘A mighty good reason,’ sez ol’ Miss Buzzard, se’she, ‘kaze it’s black night out here,’ se’she; ‘you can’t see yo’ han’ befo’ you,’ se’she. Dis make Brer Rabbit laugh, kaze de mornin’ sun wuz shinin’ thoo a knot-hole right in Brer Rabbit’s face. He laugh an’ ’low ter hisse’f, ‘Shoot yo’ shekels, ol’ ’oman, an’ shoot um hard, kaze youer gwineter git de rough een’ er dis business. You hear my horn!’ He hear ol’ Miss Buzzard walkin’ roun’ out dar, an’ he holler out, ‘I can’t git out! I b’lieve it’s daytime out dar, an’ I can’t git out! Somebody better run here an’ he’p me ter git out. Some un done lock me in my own house, an’ I can’t git out! Ain’t somebody gwineter run here an’ turn me out! I can’t git a breff er fresh a’r.’

“Well, ol’ Miss Buzzard ain’t got no mo’ sense dan ter b’lieve Brer Rabbit, an’ she wuz des certain an’ sho dat he wuz her meat. She say, ‘I’m de one what shet you up in dar, an’ I’m gwine ter keep you in dar twel youer done dead, an’ den I’ll pull de meat off’n yo’ bones, bofe fat an’ lean, an’ feed my chillun. I done got you shot up wid red clay an’ white, an’ I’m gwineter keep you in dar bofe day an’ night, twel you ain’t got no breff in you.’ Wid dat she went in her own house an’ sot down wid ’er chillun fer ter wait an’ see what gwineter happen. Brer Rabbit he stay still fer de longes’, kaze he one er de mos’ fidgetty creeturs you yever is lay yo’ eyes on. He stay right still, he did, twel ol’ Miss Turkey Buzzard git tired er waitin’ an’ come out fer ter promenade up an’ down ’fo’ Brer Rabbit front do’.

“He hear de ol’ huzzy, an’ he say, ‘I know you des jokin’ wid me, Sis Buzzard; please, ma’am, le’ me out. My breff gittin’ shorter, an’ dish yer an’ what in here smell mos’ ez bad ez what yo’ breff do. Please, ma’am, make ’as’e an’ let me out.’ Den she got mad. ‘My breff, I hear you say! Well, ’fo’ I git thoo wid you, you won’t have no breff--I prommus you dat.’ Atter ol’ Miss Buzzard went back in her part er de house, Brer Rabbit tuck a notion dat he’d git out er dar, an’ pay ’er back fer de ol’ an’ de new. An’ out er his back door he went. He ain’t take time fer ter go ter de laughin’-place--no, suh! not him. Stidder dat he put off ter whar he know’d Mr. Man had been cle’rin’ up a new groun’. Dey wuz a tin bucket what Mr. Man had done off an’ forgot, an’ Brer Rabbit tuck dat an’ fill it full er red-hot embers, an’ went sailin’ back home wid it.

“When he git dar, he stuck his head in Miss Buzzard do’, an’ low, ‘Peep-eye, Sis Buzzard! I hope you done had yo’ dinner ter day, an’ ef you ain’t I got it right here fer you an’ you mo’ dan welcome ter all dat’s in it.’ He ain’t mo’ dan got de words out ’n his mouf, ’fo’ ol’ Miss Buzzard flew’d out at ’im des like she flew’d out at you, de yuther day. She flew’d out, she did, but she ain’t flew’d fur ’fo’ she got de hot ashes over her head an’ neck, an’ de way she hopp’d ’roun’ wuz so scandalious dat folks calls dat kinder doin’s de buzzard-dance down ter dis day an’ time.

“Some er de ashes got on de little buzzards, an fum dat time on none er de buzzard tribe is had any ha’r er fedders on der head, an’ not much on der neck. An’ ef you look at um right close, you’ll fin’ dat I’m ’a’ tellin’ you de plain trufe. Dey look so ba’r on der head an’ neck dat you wanter gi’ um a piece er rag fer to tie roun’ it ter keep um fum ketchin’ col’.”

X

BROTHER DEER AN’ KING SUN’S DAUGHTER

It is only fair to say that the little boy came to the plantation somewhat prejudiced. His mother, had never known the advantages of association with the old-time negroes, and was a great stickler for accuracy of speech. She was very precise in the use of English and could not abide the simple dialect in which the stories had been related to the little boy’s father. She was so insistent in this matter that the child’s father, when asked for a story such as Uncle Remus had told him, thought it best to avoid the dialect that he knew so well. In consequence, the essence of the stories was dissipated for the child, and he lacked the enthusiasm which Uncle Remus had hoped to find.

But this enthusiasm came by degrees as Uncle Remus wandered from one tale to another. The child never told his mother how he enjoyed the stories, and yet he came to play the part that had been played by his father long before he was born, and matters came to such a pass, that, if he was long with Uncle Remus without hearing a story, he straightway imagined that the old man was angry or out of sorts. The lad was gaining in health and strength every day he remained on the plantation, and in consideration of this fact--and as the result of wise diplomacy of Uncle Remus--the child’s mother relaxed the discipline that she had thought necessary for his welfare, so that not many weeks elapsed before his cheeks became ruddy with health. Uncle Remus hailed him as a town rowdy, and declared that the plantation would soon be too small to hold him.

“I pity yo’ gran’ma,” said Uncle Remus, “kaze ef you stay roun’ here, she’ll hatter buy all de ’j’inin’ plantations ef she gwineter keep you on her lan’.”