Uncle Remus and Brer Rabbit
UNCLE REMUS and BRER RABBIT
By
Joel Chandler Harris
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1906, by
Joel Chandler Harris
Copyright, 1907, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
September, 1907
THE CREETURS GO TO THE BARBECUE
“Once ’pon a time,” said Uncle Remus to the little boy—“But when was once upon a time?” the child interrupted to ask. The old man smiled. “I speck ’twuz one time er two times, er maybe a time an’ a half. You know when Johnny Ashcake ’gun ter bake? Well, ’twuz ’long in dem days. Once ’pon a time,” he resumed, “Mr. Man had a gyarden so fine dat all de neighbors come ter see it. Some ’ud look at it over de fence, some ’ud peep thoo de cracks, an’ some ’ud come an’ look at it by de light er de stars. An’ one un um wuz ol’ Brer Rabbit; starlight, moonlight, cloudlight, de nightlight wuz de light fer him. When de turn er de mornin’ come, he ’uz allers up an’ about, an’ a-feelin’ purty well I thank you, suh!
“Now, den, you done hear what I say. Dar wuz Mr. Man, yander wuz de gyarden, an’ here wuz ol’ Brer Rabbit.” Uncle Remus made a map of this part of the story by marking in the sand with his walking-cane. “Well, dis bein’ de case, what you speck gwineter happen? Nothin’ in de roun’ worl’ but what been happenin’ sence greens an’ sparrer-grass wuz planted in de groun’. Dey look fine an’ dey tas’e fine, an’ long to’rds de shank er de mornin’, Brer Rabbit ’ud creep thoo de crack er de fence an’ nibble at um. He’d take de greens, but leave his tracks, mo’ speshually right atter a rain. Takin’ an’ leavin’—it’s de way er de worl’.
“Well, one mornin’, Mr. Man went out in his truck patch, an’ he fin’ sump’n missin’—a cabbage here, a turnip dar, an’ a mess er beans yander, an’ he ax how come dis? He look ’roun’, he did, an’ he seed Brer Rabbit’s tracks what he couldn’t take wid ’im. Brer Rabbit had lef’ his shoes at home, an’ come bar’footed.
“So Mr. Man, he call his dogs ‘Here, Buck! Here, Brinjer! Here, Blue!’ an’ he sicc’d um on de track, an’ here dey went!
“You’d ’a’ thunk dey wuz runnin’ atter forty-lev’m rhinossyhosses fum de fuss dey made. Brer Rabbit he hear um comin’ an’ he put out fer home, kinder doublin’ ’roun’ des like he do deze days.
“When he got ter de p’int whar he kin set down fer ter rest his face an’ han’s, he tuck a poplar leaf an’ ’gun ter fan hisse’f. Den Brer Fox come a-trottin’ up. He say, ‘Brer Rabbit, what’s all dis fuss I hear in de woods? What de name er goodness do it mean?’ Brer Rabbit kinder scratch his head an’ ’low, ‘Why, deyer tryin’ fer drive me ter de big bobbycue on de creek. Dey all ax me, an’ when I ’fuse dey say deyer gwine ter make me go any how. Dey aint no fun in bein’ ez populous ez what I is, Brer Fox. Ef you wanter go, des git in ahead er de houn’s an’ go lickity-split down de big road!’
“Brer Fox roll his little eyes, an’ lick his chops whar he dribble at de mouf, an put out ter de bobbycue, an’ he aint mo’ dan made his disappearance, ’fo’ here come Brer Wolf, an’ when he got de news, off he put.
“An’ he aint mo’n got out’n sight, ’fo’ here come ol’ Brer B’ar, an’ when he hear talk er de bakin’ meat an’ de big pan er gravy, he sot up on his behime legs an’ snored. Den off he put, an’ he aint got out’n hearin’, ’fo’ Brer Coon come rackin’ up, an’ when he got de news, he put out.
“So dar dey wuz an’ what you gwine do ’bout it? It seem like dey all got in front er de dogs, er de dogs got behime um, an’ Brer Rabbit sot by de creek-side laughin’ an’ hittin’ at de snake doctors. An’ dem po’ creeturs had ter go clean past de bobbycue—ef dey wuz any bobbycue, which I don’t skacely speck dey wuz. Dat what make me say what I does—when you git a invite ter a bobbycue, you better fin’ out when an’ whar it’s at, an’ who runnin’ it.”
BRER RABBIT’S FROLIC
The little boy, when he next saw Uncle Remus, after hearing how the animals went to the barbecue, wanted to know what happened to them: he was anxious to learn if any of them were hurt by the dogs that had been chasing Brother Rabbit. The old darkey closed his eyes and chuckled. “You sho is axin’ sump’n now, honey. Und’ his hat, ef he had any, Brer Rabbit had a mighty quick thinkin’ apple-ratus, an’ mos’ inginner’lly, all de time, de pranks he played on de yuther creeturs pestered um bofe ways a-comin’ an’ a-gwine. De dogs done mighty well, ’long ez dey had dealin’s wid de small fry, like Brer Fox, an’ Brer Coon, an’ Brer Wolf, but when dey run ag’in’ ol’ Brer B’ar, dey sho struck a snag. De mos’ servigrous wuz de identual one dat got de wust hurted. He got too close ter Brer B’ar, an’ when he look at hisse’f in runnin’ water, he tuck notice dat he wuz split wide open fum flank ter dewlap.
“Atter de rucus wuz over, de creeturs hobbled off home de best dey could, an’ laid ’roun’ in sun an’ shade fer ter let der cuts an’ gashes git good an’ well. When dey got so dey could segashuate, an’ pay der party calls, dey ’gree fer ter insemble some’rs, an’ hit on some plan fer ter outdo Brer Rabbit. Well, dey had der insembly, an’ dey jower’d an’ jower’d des like yo’ pa do when he aint feelin’ right well; but, bimeby, dey ’greed ’pon a plan dat look like it mought work. Dey ’gree fer ter make out dat dey gwine ter have a dance. Dey know’d dat ol’ Brer Rabbit wuz allers keen fer dat, an’ dey say dey’ll gi’ him a invite, an’ when he got dar, dey’d ax ’im fer ter play de fiddle, an’ ef he ’fuse, dey’ll close in on ’im an’ make way wid ’im.
“So fur, so good! But all de time dey wuz jowerin’ an’ confabbin’, ol’ Brer Rabbit wus settin’ in a shady place in de grass, a-hearin’ eve’y word dey say. When de time come, he crope out, he did, an’ run ’roun’, an’ de fust news dey know’d, here he come down de big road—bookity-bookity—same ez a hoss dat’s broke thoo de pastur’ fence. He say, sezee, ‘Why, hello, frien’s! an’ howdy, too, kaze I aint seed you-all sence de last time! Whar de name er goodness is you been deze odd-come-shorts? an’ how did you far’ at de bobbycue? Ef my two eyeballs aint gone an’ got crooked, dar’s ol’ Brer B’ar, him er de short tail an’ sharp tush—de ve’y one I’m a-huntin’ fer! An’ dar’s Brer Coon! I sho is in big luck. Dar’s gwineter be a big frolic at Miss Meadows’, an’ her an’ de gals want Brer B’ar fer ter show um de roas’n’-y’ar shuffle; an’ dey put Brer Coon down fer de jig dey calls rack-back-Davy.
“‘I’m ter play de fiddle—sump’n I aint done sence my oldest gal had de mumps an’ de measles, bofe de same day an’ hour! Well, dis mornin’ I tuck down de fiddle fum whar she wuz a-hangin’ at, an’ draw’d de bow backerds an’ forerds a time er two, an’ den I shot my eyes an’ hit some er de ol’-time chunes, an’ when I come ter myse’f, dar wuz my whole blessed fambly skippin’ an’ sasshayin’ ’roun’ de room, spite er de fack dat brekkus wuz ter be cooked!’