Devil tales

by Virginia Frazer Boyle

“But dey ain’ git Dave back ter watch at de spring-house no mo’, an’ de cream goes off de pans worser ’n ebber.

“Well, dat triflin’ ’Lish he been er-lis’enin’ ’roun’, an’ he wanter pleasure Ole Miss, ’case he know she tell Ole Marse ’bout hit, an’ he ups an’ ’low dat he gwine watch at de spring-house, an’ cotch de t’ief, an’ he struts ’roun’ mighty mannish ’bout hit.

“So ’Lish he taken Dave’s place on de watch, an’ lock de door er de spring-house an’ gorm up de key-hole wid beeswax, but dat cream was gone in de mornin’ des lack hit were erfore. Den ’Lish he ’low dat hit hain’t man ner beast dat taken de cream, but sumpen dat’ll go fru de door dout opinin’ uv hit; but he ’low he hain’t ’feared er nuffin.

“So he goes down ter de branch in de night-time (hit were de dark er de moon), an’ gadder some he fern seed an’ put ’em in he Sunday shoes (fiel’ han’s don’ w’ar shoes ever’ day), an’ he taken de veil what he were borned wid an’ put hit in he pocket, ’case if hit er sperit dat hone fur de cream, ’Lish know dat he kin view hit now, fur de veil hit work er charm so’s he kin see de ghostes good, an’ de sperits hain’t gwine ter fly fum de foots what got de he fern seed in de holler.

“Well, ’Lish he des sot an’ wait, an’ ever’thing plum cl’ar ter he eye, an’ bimeby he sees er shinin’, an’ sumpen black kim er-sneakin’ an’ er-sneakin’, an’ hit slips right clost ter de door, an’ ’Lish he look twel hit ’pear dat de eyes des pop plum outen he head, ’case dat black cat des stan’ dar an’ wave he tail free times, den go right fru dat door dat done shet an’ locked, des lack dar wa’n’t no door dar.”

“Den ’Lish he git clost up an’ put he year right ’gin de wall an’ hear de water tricklin’ in de trough, but he hear dat cat too, des er-lappin’ de cream. He done fin’ de t’ief, but hit wa’n’t no rale cat ertall, but de debil dat been er-gittin’ dat cream.

“Bimeby de cat git ernough an’ sneak out ergin, an’ look ’Lish plum in de eyes an’ grin es he passes.

“In de mornin’ ’Lish he go up ter de Big House, an’ Ole Miss brag on him fur bein’ smart ernough to fin’ de t’ief, an’ she say dat some un gotter kill de black cat.

“Now, white folks ain’ lack niggers—I mean de ole-time niggers. Dey hain’t got de ole ’he sense’ dat de niggers is got, an’ wid dey book-larnin’ an’ dey fine clo’se an’ things, hit ’pear lack dey done furgit what folks kin do an’ what dey cain’t, ’case nobody kin do des what dey pleases; fur dar’s sumpin des er little bit higher ’n ever’body, dat got er rope on em, an’ dey gotter kim when dey feels hit pull. But, howsomebber, I’se seen wid my own eyes de white folks cuttin’ uv er baby’s finger-nails wid de scissors ’stead er bitin’ uv ’em off, lack ’spectable folks, des er makin’ er t’ief fur de jail ter cotch, an’ er-laffin’ ’bout hit, too. Dey sees er rabbit cross de road an’ nebber eben think ’bout makin’ uv er cross an’ spittin’ in hit. Dey’ll look at de new moon ober de lef’ shoulder th’u’ de trees an’ nebber eben tek time ter say er pra’r back’ards; whilst dey puts on de right shoe fust, an’ wonder what’s de matter wid dey business when hit go wrong; an’ dey eben taken dese days ter cuttin’ winders in de house, right whilst dey libin’ in hit an’ dey’s ’sprised when some er dey folks dies soon, an’ dey calls hit de ’wuk er Prov’dence.’ White folks sho’ is cuis.

“Well, ’Lish he know better; ’cordin’ ter de knowledgments er ever’ sensible nigger, he know hit, an’ he know dat stealin’ de cream was des er trick er de debil an’ he sarchin’ fur er humin soul; but ’Lish so proud ’counter Ole Miss praisin’ uv him dat he done turn fool, an’ he promise Ole Miss dat he kill dat cat.