The Chronicles of Aunt Minervy Ann

by Joel Chandler Harris

“But, shoo! Marse Tumlin would ’a’ mighty nigh died ef he couldn’t tell ’bout dat day’s work. I ain’t min’ dat so much, but it got so dat when de Gossetts come ter town an’ start ter prankin’, de town boys ’ud call um by name, an’ holla an’ say, ‘You better watch out dar! Minervy Ann Perdue comin’ ’roun’ de cornder!’ Dat wuz so errytatin’, suh, dat it kyo’d um. Dey drapt der dram-drinkin’ an’ spreein’, an’ now dey er high in Horeb Church. Dey don’t like me, suh, an’ no wonder; but ef dey kin git ter hev’m widout likin’ me, I’d be glad ter see um go.

“Well, suh, I call de ol’ cow, an’ she foller long on ’er side er de briers, an’ when she got whar de gap wuz, she curl ’er tail over ’er back an’ put out fer home, des for all de worl’ like she glad ’kaze me an’ Marse Tumlin frailed out de Gossett boys.

“I say, ‘Marse Tumlin, I’m a member er de church an’ I don’t b’lieve in fightin’, but ef we hadn’t er fit wid dem Gossetts we’d ’a’ never foun’ dat ol’ cow in de roun’ worl’.’ He ’low, ‘An’ ef we hadn’t er fit wid um, Minervy Ann, I’d ’a’ never know’d who ter take wid me fer ter keep de boogerman fum gittin’ me.’

“Dat night, suh, Marse Bolivar Blasengame come rappin’ at my do’. Hamp wuz done gone ter bed, an’ I wuz fixin’ ter go. Marse Bolivar come in, he did, an’ shuck han’s wid me like he ain’t seed me sence de big war. Den he sot down over ag’in’ me an’ look at me, an’ make me tell ’im all ’bout de rumpus. Well, suh, he got ter laughin’, an’ he laughed twel he can’t hardly set in de cheer. He say, ‘Minervy Ann, ef dem folks say a word ter hurt yo’ feelin’s, don’t tell Tumlin. Des come a-runnin’ ter me. He done had his han’s on um, an’ now I want ter git mine on um.’

“Dat ’uz de way wid Marse Bolivar. He wa’n’t no great han’ ter git in a row, but he wuz mighty hard ter git out’n one when he got in. When he start out he stop on de step an’ say, ‘Minervy Ann, I didn’t know you wuz sech a rank fighter.’ ‘I’m a Perdue,’ sez I. Wid dat he got ter laughin’, an’ fur ez I kin hear ’im he wuz still a-laughin’. He b’longed ter a mighty fine fambly, suh; you know dat yo’se’f.”

VII
MAJOR PERDUE’S BARGAIN

When next I had an opportunity to talk with Aunt Minervy Ann, she indulged in a hearty laugh before saying a word, and it was some time before she found her voice.

“What is so funny to-day?” I inquired.

“Me, suh—nothin’ tall ’bout me, an’ ’tain’t only ter-day, nudder. Hit’s eve’y day sence I been big ’nuff fer to see myse’f in de spring branch. I laughed den, an’ I laugh now eve’y time I see myse’f in my min’—ef I’ got any min’. I wuz talkin’ ter Hamp las’ night an’ tellin’ ’im how I start in ter tell you sump’n ’bout Marse Paul Conant’ shoulder, an’ den eend up by tellin’ you eve’ything else I know but dat.