Bypaths in Dixie: Folk Tales of the South

by Sarah Johnson Cocke

“Nor, darlin’, dem boys doan b’leef in hants, an’ dey tell dey ma dat de rooster jes foolin’ her, but she crack ’em crost de haid wid de broom stick, an’ dey darsn’t say so no mo’.

“Long ’bout Chris’mus time Miss Gully wus took down wid de rumatiz. She can’t lif’ er finger, let lone git up, so she tell Abe ter bring de ole man up in de house. Yas suh, dat rooster strut hissef all ov’r dat house. He peck at hissef in de lookin’ glass, an’ he light up on de pianny in de parler; he fly up on de baid an’ peck Miss Gully’s nose, an’ she tell Abe de ole Man’s lovin’ her. Hit sho’ wus cur’us ’bout dat rooster, caze ev’y time de doct’r come, he hop up on de foot er de baid an’ cluck, an’ cluck tell de doct’r git up an’ go. One day de doct’r tell Miss Gully she gwine die. She sorter cry ’bout hit er spell, den she sont fur de ole man’s hant. Abe he go an’ shoo de roost’r in de room, but he can’t make him fly on de baid. Abe he tiptoe an’ wave his han’s sof’ like b’hime him, but de rooster run und’r de baid an’ cackle, an’ cluck, an’ make so much fuss dat de boys wanter run him out, but Miss Gully say he talkin’ ter her. She answer back ter him, ‘Yas, suh,—dat’s right,—yas, suh, I’m gwine do jes like you says.’ She keep er gwine on dat erway er long time, tell bimeby she tell Abe ter go git lawyer Clark ter make her er will. She say de ole man say she got ter give him all de money, dat de chillun’ll spen’ hit ef she don’t. De lawyer argufy wid her ’bout doin’ sich er trick es dat, but he thowin’ ’way his bref, caze by de time he git thu’ wid dat speech, Miss Gully wus done daid.”

The children took a long breath. “Did the hant kill her, Mammy?”

“Hit conjur her so she dunno whut she doin’, jes like dat ole chickin try ter do me.”

“DAT OLE ROOST’R SQUATTIN’ UND’R DE BAID
AIN’ NUV’R TAK’N HIS EYES OFF’N ABE.”

“Did the children cry when their mama died?” came tremulously from Mary Van.

“Dey car’ied on right sharply, caze she wus er good ole ’ooman ’fo’ she got conjured, an’ she wus jes doin’ what she think wus right den; but der cryin’ wusn’t nuthin’ ter dat nigg’r Abe howlin’ an’ moanin’ ov’r in de cornd’r. Yer see dat ole roost’r squattin’ und’r de baid ain’ nuv’r tak’n his eyes off’n Abe, an’ Abe want ’im ter g’long an’ keep comp’ny wid somebody else sides him. So he holler’, ‘Mistis, fur de Lawd’s sake make Marst’r g’long wid yer.’ Den de ole rooster start ter cluckin’ an’ fussin’, an’ hit ’pear dat he fixin’ ter go to’ards Abe. Abe he start ter hol’rin’: ‘Nor suh, nor suh, I doan want yer ter g’way fum hyah! I wants Mistis ter come back in one dese big Langshan hens, so you won’t git so lonesome, dat’s whut I wants.’ De rooster keep on er cacklin’ an’ er fixin’ ter fly out’n de wind’r, but Abe think he gwine jump on him, an’ he yell, ‘Please suh, doan hu’t Abe, Marster, caze whin I dies, I’m gwine come back in one dese fine gooses, an’ wait on yer plum tell jedgement.’”

“Did old Langshan get all the money, Mammy?” the financial side appealing to Willis.

“He git much uv hit es hit take ter buy pizen ter make er conjur pill ter kill him wid.”