Bypaths in Dixie: Folk Tales of the South

by Sarah Johnson Cocke

“Johnny say he too smart ter tech hit hisse’f, dat he set way off fum hit an’ jes’ tetches de money.

“Majer dunno which ter b’leef. Tishy car’in on so, busin’ one an’ lovin’ t’other, dat he make up his mine he gwine lay er trap an’ see ef Big Eye ’ud fall in hit. Long ’bout dis time, Big Eye ’gun ter long fur de vit’als he bin rais’d on, an’ ev’y time he set an’ sell dem dead an’mals ter de buzzards, his mouf dribble so dat he ’termine he gwine tas’e er lit’le ef hit kills him. He done hit too, an’ whut’s mo’ hit tas’e so good, he tas’e hit ergin, an’ whut’s mo’ en dat, he slip out ev’y night an’ take er good bate er car’on. Fus’ thing yer know, his colone nur his fine doin’s neeth’r can’ hide dat sumthin’ wus pow’ful wrong wid him. Tishy jes’ cry an’ cry, an’ say she doan see nuthin’ wrong wid him, dat hits jes’ ev’ybody jellus uv ’im. Oh, she tuk on pow’ful. Johnny Squinch an’ Brer Brindle Cow dey confabs er while jes ’fo’ de moon git dark ergin, an’ de upshot uv hit wus dat Brer Brindle g’long ter de fur een’ er de pastur’ an’ drap hisse’f down like he done fell dead. Den he lay dar. Big Eye seen him whin he fall, an’ hit look like ter him dark nuv’r wud come. Johnny an’ de Majer settin’ b’hime de fence waitin’ ter see whut gwine hap’n.”

“What did happen, Mammy Phyllis?” asked Mary Van.

“Hit hap’n dat Big Eye’s buzzard-side grow’d fast’r dan his hifalutin’-side, fur ’fo’ dark come, he put out ter git some nice lit’le pickin’s off’n Brer Brindle, ’fo’ de fun’l.”

“Did Johnny and the Major catch him?” asked Willis.

“Ketch him, boy? You jes’ orter seed Big Eye whin Brer Brindle rise up an’ say: ‘cl’ar out,’ an’ he cl’ar clean out too, fur nobody ain’ nuv’r seed er buzzard on Tinker Knob sense.

“Lawsee, Johnny Squinch’s lawyer sense done hit. He say, ‘jes watch whar de car’on lays at, ef you tryin’ ter ketch er buzzard.’” Then turning a warning look to Willis, “An’ you ’mem’r no buzzard ev’r turn hisse’f ter er Eagle in dis woel; an’ you let dat Weed boy an’ his buzzard aigs erlone, yer heah me?”

“Yes’m,” he answered meekly, then forgetful of Mary Van, he jumped suddenly from the joggling board and asked, “What did Tishy do?”

Mary Van fell off. Phyllis hurried to see if she was hurt, and replied, as she put her dress to rights, “Tishy was upsot, jes’ like Ma’y Van is now, ’cep’in mo’ so.”