BROTHER RABBIT’S COURTSHIP.
One night, as the little boy went tripping down the path to Uncle Remus’s cabin, he thought he heard voices on the inside. With a gesture of vexation he paused at the door and listened. If the old man had company, the youngster knew, by experience, that he would get no story that night. He could hear Uncle Remus talking as if carrying on an animated conversation. Presently he crept up to the door, which was ajar, and peeped in. There was nobody in sight but the old darkey, and the little boy went in. Uncle Remus made a great pretense of being astonished.
“Were you just talking to yourself, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy.
“Yasser,” said the old man with a serious air, “dat des w’at I wuz a-doin’. I done clean fergit myse’f. I year tell dat dem w’at take en talk ’long wid deyse’f dat dey owe de Ole Boy a day’s work. Ef dat de state er de case den he done got my name down on de books, en hit’s all on account er deze yer uppity-biggity niggers w’at come ’long yer little w’ile ago en ax me ter go ’way off yan ter de Spivey place whar Nancy’s Jim gwine ter git married.
“I wuz settin’ yer runnin’ on in my min’,” Uncle Remus continued, “’bout de time w’en Brer Rabbit went a-courtin’. I boun’ you dey ain’t bin no sech courtin’ sence dat day, en dey ain’t gwine ter be no mo’ sech.”
Here Uncle Remus paused and leaned back in his chair, gazing thoughtfully at the rafters. He paused so long that the little boy finally asked him if he couldn’t tell about Brother Rabbit’s wonderful courtship.
“Well, honey,” said the old man, “you haf ter gi’ me time fer to shet my eye-balls en sorter feel ’roun’ ’mongst my reckermembunce atter de wharfo’es en de whatsisnames. Kaze I’m like a broke-down plow-mule: I’ll go ’long ef you lemme take my time, but ef you push me, I’ll stop right in de middle er de row.”
“I can wait until bedtime,” the little boy remarked, “and then I’ll have to go.”
“Dat’s so,” Uncle Remus assented cheerfully, “en bein’ ez dat’s de case, we haf ter be sorter keerful. Lemme go ’roun’ de stumps en over de roots, en git in meller groun’, en den we kin des back right ’long.
“Now den! You done year talk er Miss Meadows en de gals, en ’bout how Brer Rabbit bin gwine dar so much. Well, hit done happen so dat Brer Rabbit wuz tuck wid a-likin’ er one er de gals. Dis make ’im sorter glad at de offstart, but bimeby he ’gun ter git droopy. He laid ’roun’ en sot ’bout, he did, en look like he studyin’ ’bout sump’n ’n’er way off yander.
“Hit went on dis away twel bimeby Miss Meadows, she up en ax Brer Rabbit w’at de name er sense is de matter ’long wid ’im, en Brer Rabbit, he feel so bad dat he up en ’spon’, he did, dat he dead in love wid one er de gals. Den Miss Meadows, she ax ’im w’at de reason he ain’t tell de gal dat he want ter be ’er b’ide-g’oom. Brer Rabbit say he ’shame’. Miss Meadows, she toss ’er head, she did, en ’low:
“‘Ya-a-a-s! You look like you ’shame’, now don’t you? You mout er bin ’shame’ ’fo’ hens had der toofies pulled out, but you ain’t bin ’shame’ sence. I done see you cut up too many capers; I know dey ain’t no gal on de top side er de yeth w’at kin faze you,’ sez Miss Meadows, sez she.
“Den Brer Rabbit ’low dat he skeerd de gal won’t have ’im, but Miss Meadows ’fuse ter hol’ any mo’ confab wid ’im; she des broke out singin’ en washin’ de dishes, en w’at wid de chune en de clatter er de dishes Brer Rabbit can’t year his own years. Bimeby, he tuck ’n sneak out, he did, en went en sot in de shade by de spring.
“He ain’t set dar long ’fo’ yer come de gal w’at he bin studyin’ ’bout. She had a pail in ’er han’ en she wuz comin’ atter water. She come ’long down de paff swingin’ de pail in her han’ en singin’.”
“What did she sing, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked, becoming more and more interested.
The old darkey looked slyly at the youngster, and chuckled softly to himself. Presently he said:
“Hit wuz sorter like dis, ef I ain’t make no mistakes in de chune:
“‘Oh, says de woodpecker, peckin’ on de tree,
Once I courted Miss Kitty Killdee,
But she proved fickle en fum me fled,
En sence dat time my head bin red.’
“Brer Rabbit bin feelin’ mighty droopy en low-spereted all de mornin’, but time he year de gal singin’, he hist up his years en look sassy, en wen she stop singin’ he broke out en ’gun ter sing hisse’f. He sung dish yer kinder chune:
“‘Katy, Katy! won’t you marry?
Katy, Katy! choose me den!
Mammy say ef you will marry
She will kill de turkey hen;
Den we’ll have a new convention,
Den we’ll know de rights er men.’”
“Why, I ’ve heard grandma sing that song,” exclaimed the little boy.
“Tooby sho’ you is—tooby sho’ you is, honey,” said Uncle Remus, assuming an argumentative air that was irresistibly comic. “Ef Brer Rabbit kin sing dat chune, w’at gwine hender w’ite folks fum singin’ it? Bless yo’ soul, w’ite folks smart, mon, en I lay der ain’t no chune w’at Brer Rabbit kin sing dat dey can’t reel off.
“Well, suh, de gal year Brer Rabbit singin’, en she sorter toss ’er head en giggle. Brer Rabbit he look at ’er sideways en sorter grin. Den Brer Rabbit ’low:
“‘Mornin’, ma’m; how you come on dis fine mornin’?’
“De gal say: ‘I’m des toler’ble; how you do yo’se’f?’
“Brer Rabbit ’low, he did: ‘I thank you, ma’m, I’m right po’ly. I ain’t bin feelin’ ter say reely peart in mighty nigh a mont’.’
“De gal laugh en say: ‘Dat w’at I year tell. I speck you in love, Brer Rabbit. You ought ter go off some’rs en git you a wife.’
“Dis make Brer Rabbit feel sorter ’shame’, en he hung his head en make marks in de san’ wid his foots. Bimeby he say: ‘How come, ma’m, dat you don’t git married?’
“De gal laugh wuss ’n wuss, en atter she kin ketch ’er breff she ’low: ‘Lordy, Brer Rabbit! I got too much sense—mysef—fer ter be gittin’ married widout no sign er no dream.’
“Den Brer Rabbit say: ‘W’at kinder sign does you want, ma’m?’
“De gal ’low: ‘Des any kinder sign; don’t make no diffunce w’at. I done try all de spells, en I ain’t see no sign yit.’
“Brer Rabbit say: ‘W’at kinder spells is you done tried, ma’m?’
“De gal ’low: ‘Dey ain’t no tellin’, Brer Rabbit, dat dey ain’t. I done try all dat I year talk ’bout. I tuck ’n fling a ball er yarn outen de window at midnight, en dey ain’t nobody come en wind it. I tuck a lookin’-glass en look down in de well en I ain’t see nothin’ ’t all. I tuck a hard-b’iled egg en scoop de yaller out, en fill it up wid salt en eat it widout drinkin’ any water. Den I went ter bed, but I ain’t dream ’bout a blessed soul. I went out ’twix’ sunset and dark en fling hempseed over my lef’ shoulder, but I ain’t see no beau yit.’
“Brer Rabbit, he ’low, he did: ‘Ef you’d a-tole me w’en you wuz a-gwine, ma’am, I lay you’d ’a’ seed a beau.’
“De gal, she giggle, en say: ‘Oh, hush, Brer Rabbit! Ef you don’t g’ way fum yer I gwine hit you! You too funny fer anything. W’at beau you speck I’d ’a’ seed?’
“Brer Rabbit, he up en ’low, he did: ‘You’d ’a’ seed me, ma’am, dat’s who you’d a seed.’
“De gal, she look at Brer Rabbit des like ’er feelin’s is bin hurted, en say: ‘Ain’t you ’shame’ er yo’se’f ter be talkin’ dat away en makin’ fun? I’m a-gwine away fum dis spring, kaze’t ain’t no place fer me.’ Wid dat de gal fotch ’er frock a flirt, en went up de paff like de patter-roller wuz atter her.
“She went so quick en so fas’ dat she lef’ ’er pail, en Brer Rabbit, he tuck ’n fill it full er water, en kyar it on up ter de house whar Miss Meadows en de gals live at. Atter so long a time, he came on back ter de spring, en he sot dar, he did, en study en study. He pull his mustaches en scratch his head, en bimeby, atter he bin settin’ dar a mighty long time, he jump up en crack his heels terge’er, en den he laugh fit ter kill hisse’f.
“He ’low: ‘You want a sign, does you? Well, I’m a gwine ter gi’ you one, ma’m, en ef dat don’t do you, I’ll gi’ you mo’ dan one.’
“De gal done gone, but Brer Rabbit, he hang ’roun’ dar, he did, en lay his plans. He laid um so good dat wen dark come he had um all fixt. De fus’ thing w’at he done, he went down ter de cane-brake en dar he cut ’im a long reed like dem w’at you see me bring Mars John fer fishin’-pole.”
“How did he cut it?” the little boy asked.
“He gnyaw it, honey; he des natchully gnyaw it. Den w’en he do dat, he tuck ’n make a hole in it fum eend to eend, right thoo de j’ints. W’en dark come, Brer Rabbit tuck his cane en made his way ter de house whar Miss Meadows en de gals stay at. He crope up, he did, en lissen, en he year um talkin’ en laughin’ on de inside. Seem like dey wuz done eatin’ supper en settin’ ’roun’ de fireplace.
“Bimeby de gal say: ‘W’at you reckon? I seed Brer Rabbit down at de spring.’
“T’er gal say: ‘W’at he doin’ down dar?’
“De gal say: ‘I speck he wuz gwine a-gallantin’; he mos’ sholy did look mighty slick.’
“T’er gal say: ‘I’m mighty glad ter year dat, kase de las’ time I seed ’im hit look like his britches wuz needin’ patchin’.’
“Dis kinder talk make Brer Rabbit look kinder sollumcolly. But de gal, she up en ’low: ‘Well, he ain’t look dat away ter-day, bless you! He look like he des come outen a ban’box.’
“Miss Meadows, she hove a sigh, she did, en say: ‘Fine er no fine, I wish ’im er some yuther man er ’oman would come en wash up dese yer dishes, kaze my back is dat stiff twel I can’t skacely stan’ up straight.’
“Den dey all giggle, but de gal say: ‘You all shan’t talk ’bout Brer Rabbit behin’ his back. He done say he gwine ter be my beau.’
“Miss Meadows, she ’low: ‘Well, you better take ’im en make sump’n er somebody outer ’im.’
“De gal laugh en say: ‘Oh, no! I done tole ’im dat ’fo’ I git married, I got ter have some sign, so I ’ll know p’intedly w’en de time done come.’
“W’en Brer Rabbit yer dis, he got in a big hurry. He tuck one eend er de reed en stuck it in de crack er de chimbley, en den he run ter de yuther eend, w’ich it wuz layin’ out in de weeds en bushes. W’en he git dar, he held it up ter his head en lissen, en he kin year um des ez plain ez ef dey wuz right at ’im.
“Miss Meadows ax de gal w’at kinder sign she want, en de gal she say she don’t keer w’at kinder one ’t is, des so hit’s a sign. ’Bout dat time Brer Rabbit put his mouf ter de reed, en talk like he got a bad col’. He sing out, he did:
“‘Some likes cake, en some likes pie,
Some loves ter laugh, en some loves ter cry,
But de gal dat stays single will die, will die!’
“Miss Meadows ’low: ‘Who dat out dar?’ Den dey got a light en hunted all ’roun’ de place en und’ de house, but dey ain’t see nuthin’ ner nobody. Dey went back en sot down, dey did, but ’t want long ’fo’ Brer Rabbit sing out:
“‘De drouth ain’t wet en de rain ain’t dry,
Whar you sow yo’ wheat you can’t cut rye,
But de gal dat stays single will die, will die.’
“Miss Meadows, en de gals wuz dat ’stonished dat dey ain’t know w’at ter do, en bimeby Brer Rabbit, he sing out ag’in:
“‘I wants de gal dat’s atter a sign,
I wants de gal en she mus’ be mine—
She’ll see ’er beau down by de big pine.’
“En sho’ nuff,” Uncle Remus continued, “de nex’ mornin’ w’en de gal went down by de big pine, dar sot Brer Rabbit dez ez natchul ez life. De gal, she make out, she did, dat she des come down dar atter a chaw er rozzum. Dey jawered ’roun’ a right smart, en ’spute ’long wid one ’n’er. But Brer Rabbit, he got de gal.”