“With you?” she cried. “Why——” She was sitting in an easy-chair on the back porch, where the warmth of the sun could reach her, but she rose suddenly and went into the house. She made a noise with her throat as she went, so that Uncle Remus thought she was laughing, and chuckled in response, though he felt little like chuckling. As a matter of fact, if his Miss Sally had remained on the porch one moment longer she would have burst into tears.
She went in the house, however, and was able to restrain herself. The little boy caught at the skirt of her dress, saying: “Grandmother, you have been sitting in the sun, and your face is red. Mother never allows me to sit in the sun for fear I will freckle. Father says a few freckles would help me, but mother says they would be shocking.”
Uncle Remus received his dinner from the big house that day, and by that token he knew that his Miss Sally was very well pleased with him. The dinner was brought on a waiter by a strapping black girl, with a saucy smile and ivory-white teeth. She was a favorite with Uncle Remus, because she was full of fun. “I dunner how come de white folks treat you better dan dey does de balance un us,” she declared, as she sat the waiter on the small pine table and removed the snowy napkin with which it was covered. “I know it ain’t on ’count er yo’ beauty, kaze yo’ ain’t no purtier dan what I is,” she went on, tossing her head and showing her white teeth.
Uncle Remus looked all around on the floor, pretending to be looking for some weapon that would be immediately available. Finding none, he turned with a terrible make-believe frown, and pointed his forefinger at the girl, who was now as far as the door, her white teeth gleaming as she laughed.
“Mark my words,” he said solemnly; “ef I don’t brain you befo’ de week’s out it’ll be bekaze you done been gobbled up by de Unkollopsanall.” The girl stopped laughing instantly, and became serious. The threats of age have a meaning that all the gaiety of youth cannot overcome. The gray hair of Uncle Remus, his impersonation of wrath, his forefinger held up in warning, made his threat so uncanny that the girl shivered in spite of the fact that she thought he was joking. Let age shake a finger at you, and you feel that there is something serious behind the gesture.
Now, Miss Sally had taken advantage of the opportunity to send the grandchild with the girl; she was anxious that he should make the acquaintance of Uncle Remus, and have instilled into his mind the quaint humor that she knew would remain with him all his life, and become a fragrant memory when he grew old. But the later little boy was very shy, and when he saw the terrible frown and the threatening gesture with which Uncle Remus had greeted the girl, he shrank back in a corner, seeing which the old negro began to laugh. It was not a genuine laugh, but it was so well done that it answered every purpose.
“I don’t see nothin’ ter laugh at,” remarked the girl, and with that she flirted out.
Uncle Remus turned to the little boy. “Honey, you look so much like Brer Rabbit dat I bleeze ter laugh. ’Long at fust, I had a notion dat you mought be Mr. Cricket. But youer too big fer dat, an’ den you ain’t got no elbows in yo’ legs. An’ den I know’d ’twuz Brer Rabbit I had in min’. Yasser, dey ain’t no two ways ’bout dat—you look like Brer Rabbit when he tryin’ fer ter make up his min’ whedder ter run er no.”
Then, without waiting to see the effect of this remark, Uncle Remus turned his attention to the waiter and its contents. “Well, suh!” he exclaimed, with apparent surprise, “ef dar ain’t a slishe er tater custard! An’ ef I ain’t done gone stone blin’, dar’s a dish er hom’ny wid ham gravy on it! Yes, an’ bless gracious, dar’s a piece er ham! Dey all look like ol’ ’quaintances which dey been gone a long time an’ des come back; an’ dey look like deyer laughin’ kaze dey er glad ter see me. I wish you’d come here, honey, an’ see ef dey ain’t laughin’; you got better eyes dan what I is.”
The lure was entirely successful. The little boy came forward timidly, and when he was within reach, Uncle Remus placed him gently on his knee. The child glanced curiously at the dishes. He had heard so much of Uncle Remus from his father and his grandmother that he was inclined to believe everything the old man said. “Why, they are not laughing,” he exclaimed. “How could they?”