Brother Terrapin Deceives Brer Buzzard

There was a pause here, which was finally broken by 'Tildy, whose remark

was in the shape of a very undignified yawn. Uncle Remus regarded her

for a moment with an expression of undisguised scorn, which quickly

expressed itself in words:

"Ef you'd er bin outer de house dat whack, you'd er tuck us all in.

Pity dey aint some place er 'n'er whar deze yer trollops kin go en

l'arn manners."

Tildy, however, ignored the old man, and, with a toss of her head, said

to the little boy in a cool, exasperating tone, employing a pet name she

had heard the child's mother use:

"Well, Pinx, I 'speck we better go. De rain done mos' hilt up now, en

bimeby de stars'll be a-shinin'. Miss Sally lookin' fer you right now."

"You better go whar you gwine, you triflin' huzzy, you!" exclaimed Uncle

Remus. "You better go git yo' Jim Crow kyard en straighten out dem wrops

in yo' ha'r. I allers year w'ite folks say you better keep yo' eye on

niggers w'at got der ha'r wrop up in strings. Now I done gun you fa'r

warnin's."

"Uncle Remus," said the little boy, when the old man's wrath had

somewhat subsided, "why do they call them Jim Crow cards?"

"I be bless ef I know, honey, 'ceppin' it's kaze dey er de onliest

machine w'at deze yer low-life niggers kin oncomb der kinks wid. Now,

den," continued the old man, straightening up and speaking with

considerable animation, "dat 'min's me 'bout a riddle w'at been runnin'

'roun' in my head. En dat riddle--it's de outdoin'es' riddle w'at I mos'

ever year tell un. Hit go lak dis: Ef he come, he don't come; ef he

don't come, he come. Now, I boun' you can't tell w'at is dat."

After some time spent in vain guessing, the little boy confessed that he

did n't know.

"Hit 's crow en co'n," said Uncle Remus sententiously.

"Crow and corn, Uncle Remus?"

"Co'se, honey. Crow come, de co'n don't come; crow don't come, den de

co'n come."

"Dat 's so," said 'Tildy. "I done see um pull up co'n, en I done see co'n

grow w'at dey don't pull up."

If 'Tildy thought to propitiate Uncle Remus, she was mistaken. He

scowled at her, and addressed himself to the little boy:

"De Crow, he mighty close kin ter de Buzzud, en dat puts me in min' dat

we aint bin a-keepin' up wid ole Brer Buzzud close ez we might er done.

"W'at de case mout be deze days, I aint a-sayin', but, in dem times,

ole Brer Tarrypin love honey mo' samer dan Brer B'ar, but he wuz dat

flat-footed dat, w'en he fine a bee-tree, he can't climb it, en he go so

slow dat he can't hardly fine um. Bimeby, one day, w'en he gwine 'long

down de road des a-honin' atter honey, who should he meet but ole Brer

Buzzud.

"Dey shuck han's mighty sociable en ax 'bout de news er de

neighborhoods, en den, atter w'ile, Brer Tarrypin say ter ole Brer

Buzzud, sezee, dat he wanter go inter cahoots wid 'im 'longer gittin'

honey, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' dey struck a trade. Brer Buzzud wuz ter

fly 'roun' en look fer de bee-tree, en Brer Tarrypin he wuz ter creep en

crawl, en hunt on de groun'.

"Dey start out, dey did, ole Brer Buzzud sailin' 'roun' in de elements,

en ole Brer Tarrypin shufflin' en shamblin' on de groun'. 'Mos' de ve'y

fus' fiel' w'at he come ter, Brer Tarrypin strak up wid a great big

bumbly-bee nes' in de groun'. He look 'roun', ole Brer Tarrypin did, en

bimeby he stick he head in en tas'e de honey, en den he pull it out en

look all 'roun' fer ter see ef he kin ketch a glimpse er Brer Buzzud;

but Brer Buzzud don't seem lak he nowhar. Den Brer Tarrypin say to

hisse'f, sezee, dat he 'speck dat bumbly-bee honey aint de kinder honey

w'at dey been talkin' 'bout, en dey aint no great shakes er honey dar

nohow. Wid dat, Brer Tarrypin crope inter de hole en gobble up de las'

drop er de bumbly-bee honey by he own-alone se'f. Atter he done make

'way wid it, he come out, he did, en he whirl in en lick it all off'n

his footses, so ole Brer Buzzud can't tell dat he done bin git a mess er

honey.

"Den ole Brer Tarrypin stretch out he neck en try ter lick de honey

off'n he back, but he neck too short; en he try ter scrape it off up

'g'in' a tree, but it don't come off; en den he waller on de groun', but

still it don't come off. Den old Brer Tarrypin jump up, en say ter

hisse'f dat he'll des 'bout rack off home, en w'en Brer Buzzud come he

kin lie on he back en say he sick, so ole Brer Buzzud can't see de

honey.

"Brer Tarrypin start off, he did, but he happen ter look up, en, lo en

beholes, dar wuz Brer Buzzud huv'rin' right spang over de spot whar he

is. Brer Tarrypin know Brer Buzzud bleedz ter see 'im ef he start off

home, en mo'n dat, he know he be fine out ef he don't stir 'roun' en do

sump'n' mighty quick. Wid dat, Brer Tarrypin shuffle back ter de

bumbly-bee nes' swif' ez he kin, en buil' 'im a fier in dar, en den he

crawl out en holler:

"'Brer Buzzud! O Brer Buzzud! Run yer, fer gracious sake, Brer Buzzud,

en look how much honey I done fine! I des crope in a little ways, en it

des drip all down my back, same like water. Run yer, Brer Buzzud! Half

yone en half mine, Brer Buzzud!'

"Brer Buzzud, he flop down, en he laugh en say he mighty glad, kaze he

done git hongry up dar whar he bin. Den Brer Tarrypin tell Brer Buzzud

fer ter creep in little ways en tas'e en see how he like um, w'iles he

take his stan' on de outside en watch fer somebody. But no sooner is

Brer Buzzud crope in de bumbly-bee nes' dan Brer Tarrypin take'n roll a

great big rock front er de hole. Terreckly, de fier 'gun ter bu'n Brer

Buzzud, en he sing out like a man in trouble:

"'Sump'n' bitin' me, Brer Tarrypin--sump'n' bitin' me, Brer Tarrypin!'

"Den ole Brer Tarrypin, he holler back:

"'It's de bumbly-bees a-stingin' you, Brer Buzzud; stan' up en flop yo'

wings, Brer Buzzud. Stan' up en flop yo' wings, Brer Buzzud, en you'll

drive um off,' sezee.

"Brer Buzzud flop en flop he wings, but de mo' w'at he flop, de mo' he

fan de fier, en 't wa'n't long 'fo' he done bodaciously bu'n up, all

'ceppin' de big een er his wing-fedders, en dem ole Brer Tarrypin tuck

en make inter some quills, w'ich he go 'roun' a-playin' un um, en de

chune w'at he play was dish yer:

"'_I foolee, I foolee, I foolee po' Buzzud;

Po' Buzzud I foolee, I foolee, I foolee._'"