Ahehe! My childrens I is back! I gots me a jobs workins on da railroad. My old massa's set me frees an now I is one freed negra!

I hurts my back da otha day, but who cares cause I is just an old black man dat tells da stories! Ahehehe! Yalls should buys my syrup dats I sell. Dat sure am good! Dat goes da best with da cawnbred! Ahehehe!

Aheheh! Dat reminds me of da days I usin to be da cottin picka in da fields of my massa's plantations!

Ahehehe! Here is da stories I knows yous all wants ta been hearin!

"Fine um whar you will en w'en you may, " remarked Uncle Remus with emphasis, "good chilluns allers gits tuck keer on. Dar wuz Brer Rabbit's chilluns; dey minded der daddy en mammy fum day's een' ter day's cen'. W'en ole man Rabbit say 'scoot,' dey scooted, en w'en ole Miss Rabbit say 'scat,' dey scatted. Dey did dat. En dey kep der cloze clean, en dey ain't had no smut on der nose nudder."

Involuntarily the hand of the little boy went up to his face, and he scrubbed the end of his coat with his coat-sleeve.

"Dey wuz good chilluns," continued the old man, heartily, "en ef dey hadn't er bin, der wuz one time w'en dey wouldn't er bin no little rabbits--na'er one. Dat's wa't."

"What time was that, Uncle Remus?" the little boy asked.

"De time w'en Brer Fox drapt in at Brer Rabbit house, en didn't founf' nobody dar ceppin' de little Rabbits. Ole Brer Rabbit, he wuz off some'rs raiding on a collard patch, en ole Miss Rabbit, she wuz tendin' on a quiltin' in de naberhood, en wile de little Rabbits wuz playin' hidin'-switch, in drapt Brer Fox. De little Rabbits wuz so fat dat dey fa'rly make his mouf water, but he 'member 'bout Brer Wolf, en he skeered fer ter gobble un up ceppin' he got some skuse. De little Rabbits, dey mighty skittish, en dey sorter huddle deyse'f up tergedder en watch Brer Fox motions. Brer Fox, he sot dar en study wa't sorter skuse he gwinter make up. Bimeby he see a great big stalk er sugar-can stan'in' up in de cornder, en he cle'r up his th'oat en talk biggity:

"'Yer! you young Rabs dar, sail 'roun' yer en broke me a piece er dat sweetnin'-tree,' sezee, en den he koff.

"De little Rabbits, dey got out de sugar-cane, dey did, en dey rastle wid it, en swet over it, but twan't no use. Dey couldn't broke it. Brer Fox, he make like he ain't watchin', but he keep on holler'n:

"'Hurry up dar, Rabs! I'ma waitin' on you.'

"En de little Rabbits, dey hustle 'roun en rastle wid it, but dey couldn't broke it. Bimeby dey hear little bird singin' on top er de house, en de song w'at de little bird sing wuz dish yer:

"Den de little Rabbits, dey git mighty glad, en dey gnyawed de cane mos' fo' ole Brer Fox could git his legs oncrosst. en w'en dey kyard 'im de cane, Brer Fox, he sot dar en study how he gwineter make some mo' skuse fer nabbin' un um, en bimeby he git up en git down de sifter w'at wuz hangin' on de wall, en holler out:

"'Come yer, Rabs! Take dish yer sifter en run down't de spring en fetch me some fresh water.'

"de little Rabbits, dey run down't de spring en try ter dip up de water wid de sifter, but co'se hit all run out, en hit keep on runnin' out, twell bimeby de little Rabbits so down en 'gun ter cry. Den de little bird settin' up in de tree he begin fer ter sing, en dish yer's de song wa't he sing:

"Up dey jump, de little Rabbits did, en dey fix de sifer so 'twon't leak, en den dey kyar de water ter ole Brer Fox. Den Brer Fox he git mighty mad, en p'nt out a great big stick er wood, en tell de little Rabbits fer ter put dat on de fier. De little chaps dey got 'roun' de wood, dey did, en dey lif' at it so hard twel dey could see der own sins, but de wood ain't budge. Den dey hear de little bird singin', en dish yer's de song wa't he sing:

"En des 'bout de time dey got de wood on de fier, der daddy, he come skippin' in, en de little bird, he flew'd away. Brer Fox, he seed his game wuz up, en 'twan't long 'fo' he make his skuse en start fer ter go.

"'You better stay en take a snack wid me, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. 'Senee Brer Wolf done quit comin' en settin' up wid me, I gittin' so I feels right lonesome dese long nights,' sezee.

"But Brer Fox, he button up his coat-collar tight en des put out fer home. En dat w'at you better do, honey, kaze I see Miss Sally's shadder sailin' backerds en for'ds 'fo' de winder, en de fus news you know she'll be spectin' in you."

Ahehehehe! I is Uncle Remus, and I's aint bin postin here much, causin I been workin da fields wit da cotton pickin and da plantin of da crops.

Mys white mastas beats me last night causin I bin workin on da railroads of freedom. Dats right, da unda grownd railsroad. When i's tryin to follow da drinkin gourds, i was captured by da white man, and dem beat me.

Ahehehe!

Gots to go makes da mastas some dinna.

Fare yall well!

Ahehehehe!

Currently Reading The Complete Tales of Uncle Remus By Joel Chandler Harris see related

THE NOTABLE difference existing between the negroes in the interior of the cotton States and those on the seaboard—a difference that extends to habits and opinions as well as to dialect—has given rise to certain ineradicable prejudices which are quick to display themselves whenever an opportunity offers. These prejudices were forcibly, as well as ludicrously, illustrated in Atlanta recently. A gentleman from Savannah had been spending the summer in the mountains of north Georgia, and found it convenient to take along a body-servant. This body-servant was a very fine specimen of the average coast negro-sleek, well-conditioned, and consequential-disposed to regard with undisguised contempt every-thing and everybody not indigenous to the rice-growing region—and he paraded around the streets with quite a curious and critical air. Espying Uncle Remus languidly sunning himself on a corner, the Savannah darkey approached.

“Mornin’, sah.”

“I’m sorter up an’ about,” responded Uncle Remus, carelessly and calmly. “How is you stannin’ it?”

“Tanky you, my helt mos’ so-so. He mo’ hot dun in de mountain. Seem so lak man mus’ git need de shade. I enty fer see no rice-bud in dis pa’ts.”

“In dis w’ich?” inquired Uncle sudden affectation of interest.

“In dis pa’ts. In dis country. Da plenty in Sawanny.”

“Plenty whar?”

“Da plenty in Sawanny. I enty fer see no crab an’ no oscher; en swimp, he no stay ’roun’. I lak some rice-bud now.

“Youer talkin’ ’bout deze yer sparrers, w’ich dey er all head, en ’lev’m un makes one mouffle, I speck,” suggested Uncle Remus. “Well, dey er yer,” he continued, “but dis ain’t no climate whar de rice-birds flies inter yo’ pockets en gits out de money an’ makes de change derse’f; an’ de isters don’t shuck off der shells en run over you on de street, an’ no mo’ duz de s’imp hull derse’f an’ drap in yo’ mouf. But dey er yer, dough. De scads ’ll fetch um.”

“Him po’ country fer true,” commented the Savannah negro; “he no like Sawanny. Down da, we set need de shade an’ eaty de rice-bud, an’ de crab, an’ de swimp tree time de day; an’ de buckra man drinky him wine, an’ smoky him seegyar all troo de night. Plenty fer eat an’ not much fer wuk.”

“Hit’s mighty nice, I speck,” responded Uncle Remus, gravely. “De nigger dat ain’t hope up ’longer high feedin’ ain’t got no grip. But up yer whar fokes is gotter scramble ’roun’ an’ make der own livin’, de vittles wat’s kumerlated widout enny sweatin’ mos’ allers generily b’longs ter some yuther man by rights. One hoe-cake an’ a rasher er middlin’ meat las’s me fum Sunday ter Sunday, an’ I’m in a mighty big streak er luck w’en I gits dat.”

The Savannah negro here gave utterance to a loud, contemptuous laugh, and began to fumble somewhat ostentatiously with a big brass watch-chain.

“But I speck I struck up wid a payin’ job las’ Chuseday,” continued Uncle Remus, in a hopeful tone.

“Wey you gwan do?”

“Oh, I’m a waitin’ on a culled gemmun fum Savannah—wunner deze yer high livers you bin tellin’ ’bout.”

“How dat?”

“I loant ’im two dollars,” responded Uncle Remus, grimly, “an’ I’m a waitin’ on ’im fer de money. Hit’s wunner deze yer jobs w’at las’s a long time.”

The Savannah negro went off after his rice-birds, while Uncle Remus leaned up against the wall and laughed until he was in imminent danger of falling down from sheer exhaustion.