Bypaths in Dixie: Folk Tales of the South

by Sarah Johnson Cocke

“’Simmon Tree say, ‘I ain’ skeer’d er all de Mist’r Cows in de pastur’, an’ you th’ow’d in ter boot. You ain’ nuthin’ but er win’ bag ennyhow.’

“Bob Win’ say, ‘Git reddy, suh, we gwine proof whose de bes’ man ’fo’ sundown.’

“Bob go ax his pa, ole man Harricane, ter loan him his cyarpet bag, he tell him he want ter take sum fightin’ close ’long on er trip he gwine on thu de woods. Ole Kerlum-bang Thunder say he gwine ’long ter see de fun. Po’-Down Rain say he gwine too, but Bob tell ’em he doan want nobody ter hope him.

“Po’-Down Rain says he ain’ gwine hope nobody, he say, ‘Mist’r Wise Oak sont fur me er mont’ ergo, an’ I ain’ had time ter go yit, but I’m gwine now, ’caze I wants ter see you whin you tu’ns yose’f loose.’

“Ole Kerlum-bang Thund’r say, ‘I ain’ gwine hu’t nobody, I’m jes’ gwina shoot off er few fier wurks, an’ rat’le ’roun’ er lit’le.’

“Bob see he can’ do nuthin’ wid ’em, so he start off. Fus’ he come sorter sof’ whrrrrrrrr, whuuuuuuuu. All de trees lafs an’ howdy’s ter one nuth’r ’cep’ ’Simmon Tree. He ’fuse ter russ’le so much es er leaf. Bob come Brrrrrrrrr, sorter strong like, de leaves on de groun’ try ter hop up an’ cap’r wid dem on de trees, an’ de Reed gals wus jes’ laffin’ an’ th’owin’ derse’fs erbout scand’lous. ’Simmon Tree ain’ flutt’r er leaf, ’cep’n whin he bleeg’d ter. Bob Win’ come Brrrrrrrr, Whrrrrrrrr, Brrrrr, Brrrrrrrr, Whrrrrrr, Zuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzuzzzzzzzzzz, whoopee! I tell yer he’s comin’ now! He rip an’ t’ar, he do, ringin’ an’ twistin’ ev’ything dat gits in his way. Ole Kerlum-bang Thunder give er clap an’ tetch off er fier crack’r dat skeer de Cane Break fokes mouty nigh ter death. Po’-Down Rain come right ’long b’hime him. He wet dem woods mouty nigh ter flood times. Ole Kerlum-bang drop his chunk er fier on a passel er big fier-crackers, an’—”

“And Roman candles, and sky rockets!” added Willis.

“Yas, an’ de fus’ thing you knows Bob Win’ had done swep’ up dat groun’ b’fo’ him clean es yo’ ma’s parler floor. He step up ter ’Simmon Tree an’ ax him ef he got ennything ter take back.

“’Simmon Tree say, ‘I done tole yer I ain’ gwina pass wurds wid no sich er blow hard es you is.’

“Bob Win’ grab him ’roun ’de trunk, he do, an’ give er good twis’ on his haid, but dat nuv’r done no harm, an’ ’Simmon Tree hit him back es good es he sen’. Bob take him by de arms an’ twis’ wid all his might, but ’Simmon Tree laff in his face, an’ twis’ back at him. Den Bob give er runnin’ jump an’ wrop hisse’f ’long ’bout ’Simmon’s foots. Well, suh, dat een’ de fight. Bob hit him in de weak part, an’ ’Simmon Tree broke an’ come, kerblum’, an’ splint’r’d hisse’f all ov’r de groun’.”