Bypaths in Dixie: Folk Tales of the South

by Sarah Johnson Cocke

“Johnny, he keep er foll’rin’ de boy an’ holl’r:

“‘Unch-oo, unch-oo,
Doanchu go, doanchu go.’

“Jacky-Lantern light up ergin, an’ de boy start up runnin’. ‘I’ll git yer dis time,’ he say; but Jacky-Lantern drap down in de groun’ ev’y time he git enywhars near ’bouts him, an’ Willie Wisp pop up way ov’r de uth’r side.”

“Who was Willie Wisp, Mammy?”

“He wus er nuth’r hant dat tak’n up wid ole man Gully. When de boy see Jacky-Lantern pop up hyah, an’ Willie Wisp pop up dar,—he jump fus’ dis erway, an’ dat erway tell—”

“What was the boy’s name?” asked Willis.

“Lemme see, I b’leef dat boy name Jack.”

“No, Mammy, Jacky-Lantern’s name, Jack,” Willis reminded her.

“Dat’s so.” She dropped her head on one side: “Dat Gully boy’s name, Bill—Bill Gully’s his name. Dem uth’r two boys an’ Abe takes atter Bill an’ holl’r ter him ter let dem hants erlone, but Bill tell ’em ter ’ten’ ter der own biznes, dat he atter gole.

“Dey holl’r back, ‘Dey’s er plenty er gole in de cell’r—come on back an’ hope dig hit out.’