Bypaths in Dixie: Folk Tales of the South

by Sarah Johnson Cocke

“Ned Dog think Billy tellin’ er story, an’ he say, ‘Sis’ Turkey Hen ain’ givin’ no party ternight! I done see Mist’r Turkey Gobble an’ de chilluns in bed when I come thu de peach orchard an’ old Miss Turkey Hen, she wus des tyin’ her nightcap on her own se’f.’

“But, yer see, Billy wus too hard-head’d ter lis’n ter enybody, so he up an’ say, ‘I can’t hep whut you seen; Sis’ Cat say she gwine have spechul vit’als fur me, an’ I’m gwine!’ Den Billy walk up an’ down breshen de flies off’n his back wid his long tail.”

Seeing that some objections were about to be raised as to the length of the tail, Phyllis hastened to add: “In dem days goats had tails des like hosses. Soon es Billy menshun Sis’ Cat’s name, Ned Dog tell him Sis’ Cat layin’ er trap fur him; but ’tain’t no use ter argufy wid hard-head’d fokes like Billy, so Ned Dog let ’im g’long ter de party; but he crope close on b’hime ’im, an’ on de way, he come up wid Mist’r Bloodhoun’ an’ ax ’im ter g’long wid ’im. Mist’r Bloodhoun’ say he pow’ful broke down trailin’ er runaway nigger all day, but ef Ned was ’spectin’ er rompus he ’speck he’d hatt’r jine him. Bimeby, when Billy wus mos’ down ter de sweet-gum tree, dey hides deyse’fs in er clump er red haw bushes. Ole Brer Bar he had done come down fum de mount’in early, an’ wus standin’ b’hime de tree des er gorgin’ ’esse’f wid honey an’ peepin’ out, lookin’ fur Billy Goat. When he see Billy come switchin’ ’esse’f ’cross he pastur’, he ’gun ter fidgitin’ so he can’t wait ter git es teef in him, an’ he bus’ out fum b’hime de tree an’ come er runnin’ t’ards Billy. Billy wus so skeered he jes’ had sense ernuf ter turn ’esse’f roun’! Brer Bar ketch ’im by de tail. Brer Bar pull, an’ Billy pull. Billy pull, an’ Brer Bar pull! Bimeby, de tail come off in Brer Bar’s claw. Den Billy lit out; but Brer Bar grab ’im by de b’hime leg. Des den Mister Bloodhoun’ an’ Ned Dog wus on top er Brer Bar! Ned Dog grab Brer Bar’s paw in es teefs an’ Brer Bar drop Billy an’ grab Ned by de ye’r an’ wus mos’ clampin’ es jaws on Ned’s haid when Mist’r Bloodhoun’ clinch ’im by de th’oat! Brer Bar ax Mister Bloodhoun’ please ter turn es th’oat loose, dat he got sumthin’ ter tell ’im! Mist’r Bloodhoun’ ’nounce: ‘I won’t turn you plum loose, but I’ll hol’ yo’ th’oat easy like tell you kin ’splain yo’se’f!’

“Den Brer Bar splainify ’esse’f an’ beg so hard, tell bimeby dey ’scuses ’im, an’ he amble’ on home fas’ es he kin. Den dey come on home ter settle matters wid Sis’ Cat. Sis’ Cat was er settin’ by Billy moanin’ wid him ’bout losin’ es tail.”

“Did his tail ever grow out any more?” asked a sympathetic boy.

“No, honey, goats ain’t nuv’r had no tails ter speak uv sense dat day; but hoopee! hyah come Ned Dog an’ Mister Bloodhoun’! Dey come er yelpin’ wid dey tongues er hangin’ out. Dey pounce right whar Sis’ Cat wus settin’, but dey ain’t pounce quick as Sis’ Cat kin jump; ’caze by de time dey hits Sis’ Cat’s seat, Sis’ Cat, she was plum on top er de cow house, standin’ dar wid ’er back up, an’ her tail bushy out. Ned Dog dare her ter come down an’ splain ’erse’f; but Sis’ Cat say she ain’t got nuthin’ ter ’splain, an’ what’s mo’ she doan take no dog’s dare. An’ dat howcum dey quoil an ’spute whensumever dey meets tell dis day.”

“But, Mammy Phyllis, all cats are not as mean as ole Sis’ Cat,” ventured a little girl.

“Honey, my gran-mammy wus black! What color is I?”

“Black!” chimed all the children.

“An’ dat crab apple tree,—what sort er apples does you git off’n hit?”