“THE WILES THAT IN THE WOMEN ARE”
For many years old John, as country coachman for the late Governor Aiken, periodically drove a pair of switch-tailed mules to the Governor’s carriage, making round trips between Jehossee Island and Adams Run station, whenever his employer came from Charleston to visit the great rice plantation. John was a trim and finicky old darkey, with quite a manner, and, in his old beaver hat and long-tailed coat, made a notable figure among the darkeys usually loafing about the station.
Low-country negroes never miss a train. Journeying by rail, they take no chances, but invariably reach the station several hours ahead of train time, where, chattering and gossiping, the waiting time passes quickly and pleasantly.
Among these groups old John, with his long-handled whip of plaited buckskin, correctly looped, and carried coachman fashion, moved and exchanged pleasantries. He, too, was always ahead of time, and his docile mules, switching their long, untrimmed tails about, and hitched to the only closed carriage in the community, were always objects of interest to the station idlers.
“Uncle John, mekso oonuh ent shabe dem mule tail?” inquired one of a group that squatted upon the platform.
“Sistuh, you ebbuh yeddy ’bout Johossee muskittuh’?”
“No, suh.”
“Ahnhn, uh t’awt so. Gal, you ebbuh see blackbu’d’ ’puntop’uh rice rick? You is shum, enty? Berry well; dem muskittuh’ een Johossee maa’sh stan’ same fashi’n. W’en dem light ’puntop’uh mule, dem kibbuhr’um ’tell oonuh cyan’ see dem haa’ness! One time, jis’ attuh daa’k, uh binnuh dribe comin’ een late f’um Adam’ Run, en’ w’en uh ’trike de causeway, all ub uh sudd’nt uh nebbuh yeddy no mule’ foot duh trot ’puntop’uh de groun’! De cyaaridge duh moobe, but uh yent yeddy no soun’ f’um de mule’ foot. Uh say tuh mese’f, eh, eh, duh warruh dish’yuh? Uh look ’gen, en’, uh ’cla’ tuh goodness, de muskittuh’ dat t’ick ’puntop de mule’ belly, dem hice’um up off de groun’, en’ duh flew t’ru de ellyment duh cya’um ’long! Dem wing’ duh sing sukkuh bee duh swawm, en’ de mule’ duh trot wid all fo’ dem foot, but ’e nebbuh tetch no groun’! Uh nebbuh do nutt’n ’tell uh cross de bridge, ’cause de bridge mek out’uh pole, en’ dem berry slip’ry duh night time, en’ uh glad de mule’ ent haffuh pit dem foot ’puntop’um, but attuh uh done cross de bridge, uh tek me lash en’ uh cut de mule’ two’t’ree time onduhneet’ dem belly, en’, uh ’cla’ tuh my Mastuh, t’ree peck uh muskittuh’ drap ’puntop de groun’ en’ uh yeddy de mule’ foot duh trot ’gen een de road! So, attuh dat, uh nebbuh shabe de Gub’nuh’ cyaaridge mule’ tail no mo’, en’ now you shum stan’ dey, dem kin lick muskittuh’, fly en’ t’ing’ same lukkuh hawss.”
So old John, coachman and raconteur, a faithful and respected servant, lived his days, which were long, and when at last he was gathered to his fathers, his funeral was the talk of the colored countryside, and his grave, ornately decorated with broken bits of old blue china and the stone bottles in which Bass’ ale had once been imported, was much admired by those whose sad occasions brought them to the plantation God’s-Acre under the spreading live-oaks.
“Eh, eh, Buh John sho’ hab uh fine grabe.”
“Yaas, tittie, ’e fine fuh true. You see da’ blue chaney, enty? Dat chaney bin ’e Missis’ pitchuh ’tell de pitchuh’ mout’ done bruk out. One time ’e missis sen’ one leely nigguh gal duh big spring wid ’e blue pitchuh fuh fetch watuh. De gal full’ de pitchuh en’ pit’um ’puntop ’e head duh walk duh paat’ comin’ fuh de house. De gal duh walk ca’less like, duh swing ’e han’, en’ ’e yeye high, en’ ’e nebbuh look ’puntop de paat’, en’ one limus cootuh binnuh cross ’e paat’, en’ him git to de paat’ same time de gal git dey, en’ de gal ’tump ’e toe ’puntop de cootuh, en’ de cootuh t’row’um down, en’ de pitchuh fall off de gal’ head en’ ’trike ’puntop’uh root, en’ de pitchuh’ mout’ bruk out en’ de gal gone back duh big spring en’ full’ de pitchuh ’gen, en’ pit’um ’puntop ’e head en’ gone big house duh paat’, but ’e dat ’f’aid suh limus cootuh gwine hit’um ’gen, ’e ’tep’ high, en’ w’en ’e ’tep’ high de watuh wuh ’e fetch f’um big spring ’plash’ out de pitchuh’ bruk mout’ en’ drap’ ’puntop de gal two eye’ en’ run down ’e face en’ gone een ’e mout’, en’ w’en de gal git duh big house, ’e missis look ’puntop all de watuh en’ t’ing’ dey ’puntop ’e face en’ ’e missis t’ink de gal cry tuh dat, en’ ’e missis sorry fuhr’um en’ ’e nebbuh lick’um nuh nutt’n’, en’ ’e gi’ de bruk mout’ pitchuh to de gal, en’ w’en de gal grow up, Buh John hab’um fuh wife, en’ da’ de way Buh John git de pitchuh, en’ attuh Buh John done dead, ’e wife wuh ’e lef’ tek hatchitch en’ bruk de pitchuh ’gen, en’ pit eb’ry Gawd piece ’puntop Buh John’ grabe, en’ da’ w’ymekso ’e stan’ so.”
“’E grabe look stylish fuh true, but uh know berry well w’en my juntlemun dead me yent fuh bruk no pitchuh en’ t’ing fuh pit ’puntop him cawpse, ’cause da’ nigguh ent wut, ’e too lub fuh drink rum, en’ w’en ’e fetch’um home, him fuhrebbuh duh fall down en’ bruk de bottle wuh ’e fetch’um een, en’ uh hab all dem bruk bottle pile’ een de fench cawnuh fuh pit ’puntop him grabe w’en ’e dead. Two’t’ree time Joe seem lukkuh ’e kinduh spishus ’bout de bruk bottle, en’ ’e ax me wuffuh uh duh sabe’um, but uh tell’um uh sabe’um fuh beat’um up ’long pessle, fuh pizen buckruh’ dog, en’ dat sattify ’e mine’ en’ ’e lemme ’lone.”
“You sho’ hab uh good onduhstan’, tittie, ’cause man ent fuh know tummuch. Ef ’ooman tell’um de trute ’e nebbuh sattify. ’Ooman haffuh fool’um fuh mek’um easy een ’e mine’!”
“You duh talk trute, tittie, him lub you fuh fool’um. Fool’um duh de only t’ing him gwine b’leebe.”
“Yaas, man, meself hab uh good ecknowledge fuh fool’um. One time Paul, him duh my juntlemun, binnuh wu’k to de maa’l, duh dig rock, down to John Ilun’. Monday mawnin’, him git up soon, ’e gone deepo, ’e ketch de shoofly strain, en’ ’e gone! Uh nebbuh shum ’gen ’tell Sattyday night. Wuh me fuh do? Seddown een me house ’tell him come home en’ watch ’tettuh duh bile? No, suh! Uh lub fuh talk tummuch! Soon ez uh yeddy de strain blow, en’ uh sattify’ my juntlemun gone, uh tek me two foot en’ uh gone Paa’ker’ Ferry Cross Road’ weh da’ buckruh hab ’e big sto’. All dem boy’ wuh ent hab nutt’n’ fuh do, dey dey duh talk, en’ ’nuf ’ooman’ dey dey duh hol’ cumpuhshashun ’long de man en’ t’ing. W’en daa’k come, uh gone home. Uh cook, uh eat, uh leddown duh bed, uh sleep. Chuesday mawnin’, uh gone same fashi’n, en’ eb’ry Gawd’ day ’tell bimeby Sattyday come ’gen. Uh clean de house, uh wash, uh sweep de yaa’d, en’ uh gone Cross Road’. Uh pass de time uh day ’long dem todduh nigguh’ ’tell uh yeddy de strain f’um town blow deepo, den uh gone home fuh wait ’tell Paul come. Befo’ uh lef’ de sto’, Sancho Frajuh binnuh drink rum en’ ’e t’row’way ’e money berry freehan’, en’ ’e buy ’bout two quawt’ uh candy, dese’yuh ’ticky kind’uh t’ing, dem hab ’ooman name, de buckruh call’um Carrie Mel, but eb’n so, ’e mek out’uh pinegum en’ muhlassis, en’ ef oonuh chaw’um ’e gwine hol’ yo’ jaw ’tell t’unduh roll. De buckruh hab’um een ’e sto’ sence las’ yeah en de t’ing haa’d ez uh i’un. Sancho gi’ eb’ry ’ooman two han’ful’. Uh wrop one de han’ful’ een uh papuh en’ drap’um een me ap’un pocket. Uh t’row de todduh han’ful een me mout’ en’ biggin fuh chaw. Uh chaw, en’ uh chaw, uh chaw, en’ uh chaw. De t’ing sweet’n’ me fuh true, but ’e ketch me jaw’ en’ ’e hol’um same lukkuh pinegum plastuh! De mo’ uh chaw’um de mo’ ’e swell. Time uh git tuh me house, de t’ing wrop roun’ eb’ry teet’ een me head lukkuh jackwine wrop roun’ tree. Alltwo me jaw’ stan’ same fashi’n ez mufflejaw fowl, en’ me mout’ swell’up same lukkuh Buh Quash’ mout’ stick out w’en ’e bex! W’en uh git tuh de do’, Paul dey dey duh wait fuh me! ’Fo’ him kin ax me no squeschun, uh smaa’t ’nuf fuh t’row me ap’un tuh me mout’ fuh hide’um, en’ uh kibbuhr’um up en’ biggin fuh moan. Uh moan, en’ uh moan. Paul ax me wuffuh uh mek shishuh hebby cumplain. Uh ’ca’cely kin able fuh talk, but uh tell’um uh binnuh walk roun’ de fench en’ uh walk ’puntop yalluh jacket nes’ en’ de t’ing ’ting me tuh dat. ’E ax me w’ich one de jaw ’e ’ting me ’pun. Uh p’int tuh me lef han’ jaw. ’E ax me ’smattuh mek alltwo de jaw’ swell. Uh tell’um gumbile mek todduh one fuh swell. Den uh biggin fuh cry. Watuh stan’ een me two eye’. Uh baig’um fuh gone deepo en’ baig some dem buckruh’ fuh g’em some linniment fuh de mis’ry een alltwo me jaw’. Paul say suh him kin gone Cross Road’ en’ buy’um, but uh ’f’aid ef him gone Cross Road’, Sancho dem gwine tell’um suh me bin dey, en’ uh tell’um no, uh yent want’um fuh t’row’way him money ’cause uh lub’um tummuch, en’ uh mo’ redduh him fuh baig de buckruh’, den fuh buy’um out him own money. Dat mek’um sattify, en’ ’e gone deepo. Soon ez ’e gone, uh try fuh git da’ debble’ub’uh ’ceitful Carrie Mel out me mout’. De t’ing ’tick same lukkuh Buh Rabbit ’tick tuh Taar Baby. ’E won’ tu’n me loose! Den me bline’gawd tell me fuh greese’um. Uh gone duh house, uh mek fiah, uh pit one fat bakin een de pan, en’ w’en de meat done fry, uh tek’um een me mout’ en’ biggin fuh chaw. Bimeby de greese biggin fuh loose de Carrie Mel, en’ uh tek alltwo me han’ en’ uh pull’um out me mout’, en’ uh t’row’um ’way, en’ uh t’row’um fudduh!
“W’en Paul come back wid de buckruh linniment, uh duh hol’ me two jaw’ en’ uh dull moan. Him gimme de t’ing, uh rub’um, en’ attuhw’ile, w’en him done cook de bittle wuh ’e fetch f’um John Ilun’, uh call’um fuh look ’puntop me two jaw’ weh de swell’ done gone, en’ ’e dat sattify, ’e gimme de money wuh him bin fuh buy linniment duh Cross Road, en’ ’e nebbuh yeddy ’bout no Sancho!”
“Yaas, tittie, ’ooman fool’um fuh true! Him done fuh fool’um!”