 | The tar-baby and other rhymes of Uncle Remus |  |
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BRER RABBIT AND THE TAR-BABY
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In Levemteen Hunder'd-an-Full-er-Fleas,
When dey raise sech a crap er gooba peas,
De creeturs wuz all des ez chummy ez you please:
Dey raced an' dey rastled, dey jumped an' dey played,
An' dey wa'n't nothin' 'tall fer ter make 'um 'fraid.
Dey had der parties, bofe dar an' here,
Wid May-pop puddin' an' 'simmon beer;
An' de way dey keep der Fo'th-er-Julys
Wuz in eatin' goobas an' fresh tater pies—
An' dey wa'n't no doubt, an' no prehaps,
Dat dey holp one anudder out wid der craps.
When dey raise sech a crap er gooba peas,
De creeturs wuz all des ez chummy ez you please:
Dey raced an' dey rastled, dey jumped an' dey played,
An' dey wa'n't nothin' 'tall fer ter make 'um 'fraid.
Dey had der parties, bofe dar an' here,
Wid May-pop puddin' an' 'simmon beer;
An' de way dey keep der Fo'th-er-Julys
Wuz in eatin' goobas an' fresh tater pies—
An' dey wa'n't no doubt, an' no prehaps,
Dat dey holp one anudder out wid der craps.
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An' dey had der frolics in de fall,
When dey 'scort'd Miss Meadows ter de ball,
Wid “Sasshay, ladies!” an' “Balance all!”
Dey had mighty little fer ter set um back,
Good health an' good craps—but what dey lack
Wuz good, clean water when de branch run dry,
Kaze de river wuz muddy when low er high.
Dey mought 'a' got a well by sellin' corn,
But de man what dugged um ain't been born;
So dey rocked along fum day ter day,
An' hoed der corn an' saved der hay.
When dey 'scort'd Miss Meadows ter de ball,
Wid “Sasshay, ladies!” an' “Balance all!”
Dey had mighty little fer ter set um back,
Good health an' good craps—but what dey lack
Wuz good, clean water when de branch run dry,
Kaze de river wuz muddy when low er high.
Dey mought 'a' got a well by sellin' corn,
But de man what dugged um ain't been born;
So dey rocked along fum day ter day,
An' hoed der corn an' saved der hay.
When de Sun helt its own up in de sky,
An' de long drouth come, an' de branch run dry,
Mr. Fox an' Mr. Wolf look like dey'd die;
An' all de creeturs wuz in de same fix,
Ceppin' ol' Brer Rabbit, wid his errytatin' tricks;
He went his way, an' he had his fun
Ef de branch wuz dry er ef it run;
He loped along wid his lippity-clips,
A-wigglin' his nose an' a-workin' his lips,
An' his mornin' drink wuz allers new—
It wuz sweet-gum sap an' honey-dew!
An' de long drouth come, an' de branch run dry,
Mr. Fox an' Mr. Wolf look like dey'd die;
An' all de creeturs wuz in de same fix,
Ceppin' ol' Brer Rabbit, wid his errytatin' tricks;
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Ef de branch wuz dry er ef it run;
He loped along wid his lippity-clips,
A-wigglin' his nose an' a-workin' his lips,
An' his mornin' drink wuz allers new—
It wuz sweet-gum sap an' honey-dew!
De kin' what you fin' in de heart uv a flower,
Er de poplar-leaf, ef you'll wait fer de hour,
An' watch fer de moonshine's sweetenin' shower!
But de yuther creeturs ain't cotch de knack,
Dey wuz dull ez walkin' ter mill an' back;
Dey never tuck notice how de birds kin sing,
How de black bee zoons when he's on de wing,
How de stars swing 'roun', how de flowers smell,
An' dey'd dodge fum thunder wid “Well, well, well!”
Dey wisht mighty strong dat der cants wuz coulds,
Twel de day Mr. Fox got back fum de woods.
Er de poplar-leaf, ef you'll wait fer de hour,
An' watch fer de moonshine's sweetenin' shower!
But de yuther creeturs ain't cotch de knack,
Dey wuz dull ez walkin' ter mill an' back;
Dey never tuck notice how de birds kin sing,
How de black bee zoons when he's on de wing,
How de stars swing 'roun', how de flowers smell,
An' dey'd dodge fum thunder wid “Well, well, well!”
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Twel de day Mr. Fox got back fum de woods.
He come back, he did, an' sezee, “By jing!
You kin b'lieve me or not, but I done foun' a spring,
An' I feel like cuttin' de pidjin-wing!
An' it runs so clean, an' it runs so clear,
Dat it do like it's whisp'rin' in yo' y'ear,
Wid its ‘Google-goody!’ an' its ‘Google-good!’
It's 'way over yander in de Chinkapin wood!”
An' de creeturs all, dey wuz happy, mon!
Dey trot, an' dey gallop, an' den dey run,
Wid a tippity-tip, an' a long-time swing,
Ter whar dey kin see de googlin'-spring!
You kin b'lieve me or not, but I done foun' a spring,
An' I feel like cuttin' de pidjin-wing!
An' it runs so clean, an' it runs so clear,
Dat it do like it's whisp'rin' in yo' y'ear,
Wid its ‘Google-goody!’ an' its ‘Google-good!’
It's 'way over yander in de Chinkapin wood!”
An' de creeturs all, dey wuz happy, mon!
Dey trot, an' dey gallop, an' den dey run,
Wid a tippity-tip, an' a long-time swing,
Ter whar dey kin see de googlin'-spring!
Well, de spring wuz dar at de head er de dreen,
Whar de calamus shuck its flags er green,
An' de cat-tails tried fer to make a screen:
De creeturs all laugh, an' den dey squeal,
An' dey hopped all 'roun' on toe an' heel.
Brer Rabbit, he ax, “What's de hullabaloo?”
An' dey answer back, “It's a spring fer true!”
Den ol' Brer Rabbit tuck anudder chaw
Er his terbacker, an' he work his jaw,
An' sniff de a'r, an' shet his eyes,
An' fling back his head, an' look mighty wise.
Whar de calamus shuck its flags er green,
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De creeturs all laugh, an' den dey squeal,
An' dey hopped all 'roun' on toe an' heel.
Brer Rabbit, he ax, “What's de hullabaloo?”
An' dey answer back, “It's a spring fer true!”
Den ol' Brer Rabbit tuck anudder chaw
Er his terbacker, an' he work his jaw,
An' sniff de a'r, an' shet his eyes,
An' fling back his head, an' look mighty wise.
Now, de spring had been dar sence de Flood,
But one fine mornin' 'twuz full er mud,
(An' ol' Brer Rabbit, he chawed his cud!)
An' atter dat 'twa'n't never clear,
An' der wa'n't no google fer de creeturs ter hear;
'Twuz mud in de mornin', an' mud at night—
'Tain't no use er talkin', dat mud wuz a sight!
Mr. Fox, ez de finder, watched over de spring,
An' he try ter diskiver what kinder thing
Wuz a-stirrin' up mud bofe night an' day—
An' he watch an' he wait twel he had his way.
But one fine mornin' 'twuz full er mud,
(An' ol' Brer Rabbit, he chawed his cud!)
An' atter dat 'twa'n't never clear,
An' der wa'n't no google fer de creeturs ter hear;
'Twuz mud in de mornin', an' mud at night—
'Tain't no use er talkin', dat mud wuz a sight!
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An' he try ter diskiver what kinder thing
Wuz a-stirrin' up mud bofe night an' day—
An' he watch an' he wait twel he had his way.
An' one fine mornin' he foun' some tracks,
An' he shuck his head (I'm tellin' you de facts!)
An' he went off an' got im some shoemaker's wax,
An' pitch an' rozzum, an' den an' dar
He mould him a baby outer de tar,
Wid leg an' body, an' head an' han'—
An' it look like it settin' dar playin' in de san'—
An' he hide hisse'f whar he kin see
Whatsomever gwine ter happen ter de Tar-Baby-ee—
De Tar-Baby-ow, de Tar-Baby-oh—
An' den he hide an' lay mighty low!
An' he shuck his head (I'm tellin' you de facts!)
An' he went off an' got im some shoemaker's wax,
An' pitch an' rozzum, an' den an' dar
He mould him a baby outer de tar,
Wid leg an' body, an' head an' han'—
An' it look like it settin' dar playin' in de san'—
An' he hide hisse'f whar he kin see
Whatsomever gwine ter happen ter de Tar-Baby-ee—
De Tar-Baby-ow, de Tar-Baby-oh—
An' den he hide an' lay mighty low!
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Brer Rabbit, he skipped along at las'—
He skip sorter slow, den he skip kinder fas'—
Kaze he use de spring ez a lookin'-glass,
An' he seed de Tar-Baby settin' dar:
“Good-mornin', suh, an' how's yo' Ma?
An' how does yo' copperositee
Seem ter segashuate?” sezee;
“An' whar yo' manners? You mus' be deff!
You'll hear ef I hit you, an' you'll lose yo' breff!”
Brer Rabbit, he wait, wid “Tooby sho!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
He skip sorter slow, den he skip kinder fas'—
Kaze he use de spring ez a lookin'-glass,
An' he seed de Tar-Baby settin' dar:
“Good-mornin', suh, an' how's yo' Ma?
An' how does yo' copperositee
Seem ter segashuate?” sezee;
“An' whar yo' manners? You mus' be deff!
You'll hear ef I hit you, an' you'll lose yo' breff!”
Brer Rabbit, he wait, wid “Tooby sho!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
“You better tell me howdy! you better make yo' bow!
No trouble ter show you ef you dunner how—
Er maybe you er keen fer ter git in a row?
Good-mornin', dis mornin', I'll ax you once mo'!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
Brer Rabbit, he stomp his foot on de groun',
“You er mighty stuck up, but I'll fetch you down!
You see dis han'? Well, I'll hit you a blip
Dat'll split you open fum hat ter hip!
What ail you, man? an' whar did you grow?”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
No trouble ter show you ef you dunner how—
Er maybe you er keen fer ter git in a row?
Good-mornin', dis mornin', I'll ax you once mo'!”
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Brer Rabbit, he stomp his foot on de groun',
“You er mighty stuck up, but I'll fetch you down!
You see dis han'? Well, I'll hit you a blip
Dat'll split you open fum hat ter hip!
What ail you, man? an' whar did you grow?”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
Brer Rabbit made a pass at 'im des fer luck,
An' he hauled off an' hit 'im in de eye—kerchuck!
An' tried ter jump away, but de han' done stuck!
“Turn me loose, you villyun, er I'll hit you ag'in!
I'll gi' you a jolt dat'll cave you in!”
Brer Rabbit draw'd back—“I'll try yo' pluck!”
An' biffed 'im ag'in, an' t'er han' stuck!
“You see dis foot? I'll gi' you a kick
Dat'll lan' you down yander close ter Ol' Nick!
Des turn me loose, an' I'll let you go!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
An' he hauled off an' hit 'im in de eye—kerchuck!
An' tried ter jump away, but de han' done stuck!
“Turn me loose, you villyun, er I'll hit you ag'in!
I'll gi' you a jolt dat'll cave you in!”
Brer Rabbit draw'd back—“I'll try yo' pluck!”
An' biffed 'im ag'in, an' t'er han' stuck!
“You see dis foot? I'll gi' you a kick
Dat'll lan' you down yander close ter Ol' Nick!
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Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
Brer Rabbit hit de groun' wid his foot, an' say:
“You'll be sorry you pestered wid me dis day—
So des turn me a-loose an' go on away!”
Den he up wid his foot an' kicked 'im—blam!
“I lay I'll show you des who I am!”
But de foot done stuck! “Will you le' me go?”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
Den Brer Rabbit feel like he 'bout ter git vext,
Kaze he spected eve'y minnit would be de next,
An' he monstus sorry dat it wuz so!
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
“You'll be sorry you pestered wid me dis day—
So des turn me a-loose an' go on away!”
Den he up wid his foot an' kicked 'im—blam!
“I lay I'll show you des who I am!”
But de foot done stuck! “Will you le' me go?”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low!
Den Brer Rabbit feel like he 'bout ter git vext,
Kaze he spected eve'y minnit would be de next,
An' he monstus sorry dat it wuz so!
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
Well, de yuther foot stuck, an', atter dat,
Brer Rabbit, he grin like a Chessy-cat—
“Ef you don't turn me loose I'll butt you flat!
I'll scatter yo' brains! I'll ruin you, sho!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
Brer Rabbit, he butted ez hard ez he could,
An' his head it stuck, let 'im do what he would—
An' de Tar-Baby helt 'im hard an' fast,
An' it look like his time done come at last:
Mr. Fox sa'nter'd out fum his hidin' place,
Wid a blood-red smile runnin' 'cross his face!
Brer Rabbit, he grin like a Chessy-cat—
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I'll scatter yo' brains! I'll ruin you, sho!”
Tar-Baby say nothin'—Mr. Fox lay low.
Brer Rabbit, he butted ez hard ez he could,
An' his head it stuck, let 'im do what he would—
An' de Tar-Baby helt 'im hard an' fast,
An' it look like his time done come at last:
Mr. Fox sa'nter'd out fum his hidin' place,
Wid a blood-red smile runnin' 'cross his face!
He scraped his foot an' den he bow,
He licked his chops an' den he 'low:
“Howdy-do, Brer Rabbit? How you feel, nohow?”
Wid a th'obbin' heart an' a shakin' knee,
Brer Rabbit wuz skeer'd ez skeer'd could be.
“You er mighty stuck up,” Mr. Fox, he say,
“An' I'm s'prized ter see it at dis time er day!”
He walked aroun'—“Here's a gooba shell,
I kin skacely believe it! Well, well, well!”
He pulled off his coat an' rolled up his sleeves—
“Now, I'm gwine ter show you des what I b'lieves!”
He licked his chops an' den he 'low:
“Howdy-do, Brer Rabbit? How you feel, nohow?”
Wid a th'obbin' heart an' a shakin' knee,
Brer Rabbit wuz skeer'd ez skeer'd could be.
“You er mighty stuck up,” Mr. Fox, he say,
“An' I'm s'prized ter see it at dis time er day!”
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I kin skacely believe it! Well, well, well!”
He pulled off his coat an' rolled up his sleeves—
“Now, I'm gwine ter show you des what I b'lieves!”
An' he grinned ag'in de grin dat wuz red,
An' he opened his mouf fer ter let it spread
Twel he show all de tushes in his head:
He grab Brer Rabbit by de leg,
An' you oughter hear dat creetur beg!
Mr. Fox, he say, “What I'm gwine ter do
Is to pay you bofe fer de ol' an' de new!
Oh, you nee'n ter talk: I know you er nice:
But you fooled me once an' you fooled me twice!
You steal my goobas, an' den you fling
A whole pile er mud right in dat spring!
An' he opened his mouf fer ter let it spread
Twel he show all de tushes in his head:
He grab Brer Rabbit by de leg,
An' you oughter hear dat creetur beg!
Mr. Fox, he say, “What I'm gwine ter do
Is to pay you bofe fer de ol' an' de new!
Oh, you nee'n ter talk: I know you er nice:
But you fooled me once an' you fooled me twice!
You steal my goobas, an' den you fling
A whole pile er mud right in dat spring!
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“But I got you now, an' yo' hide I'll stretch—
I'll l'arn you sump'n, you triflin' wretch!
I'll gi' you de ol'-time Buckra tetch!
I'll skin you alive, I'll drown you dead!
I'll break yo' neck. I'll crack yo' head—
I'll wallop you twel I make you think
I'm de patter-roller, you wall-eyed slink!”
Brer Rabbit sniffle, an' den he say,
“I know mighty well you'll have yo' way:
You may drown me, suh, ef it's yo' desires,
But please don't fling me in de briers!”
I'll l'arn you sump'n, you triflin' wretch!
I'll gi' you de ol'-time Buckra tetch!
I'll skin you alive, I'll drown you dead!
I'll break yo' neck. I'll crack yo' head—
I'll wallop you twel I make you think
I'm de patter-roller, you wall-eyed slink!”
Brer Rabbit sniffle, an' den he say,
“I know mighty well you'll have yo' way:
You may drown me, suh, ef it's yo' desires,
But please don't fling me in de briers!”
De tar wuz so rank dat Brer Rabbit sneeze,
But he still wuz shakin' in de knees,
An' he keep on a-whimplin', “Please, suh, please!”
“Oh, yes! I'll please!” Mr. Fox, he say,
“An' I'll please myse'f dis very day!
You mayn't be mine, but I think you is,
An' I'm sho gwine ter bake you twel you sizz!
I'll kindle de bresh-heap, an' fling you in,
An' I lay dat'll cook an' crisp yo' skin!”
Brer Rabbit, he say: “Des fetch on yo' fires,
But please don't fling me in de briers!”
But he still wuz shakin' in de knees,
An' he keep on a-whimplin', “Please, suh, please!”
“Oh, yes! I'll please!” Mr. Fox, he say,
“An' I'll please myse'f dis very day!
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An' I'm sho gwine ter bake you twel you sizz!
I'll kindle de bresh-heap, an' fling you in,
An' I lay dat'll cook an' crisp yo' skin!”
Brer Rabbit, he say: “Des fetch on yo' fires,
But please don't fling me in de briers!”
Brer Fox, he study an' rub his chin,
He rub it once, an' he rub it ag'in,
An' he wunk one eye, an' grinned a grin—
“I'll hang you high, an' maybe higher,
An' I'll fling you in de big quogmire!”
“Do des ez you please,” Brer Rabbit cry,
“An' I'll ax no reason, fer which er why;
You kin drown me deep, you kin hang me high,
An' not one tear will drap fum my eye;
You kin hamstring me wid red-hot wires,
But please, oh, please, keep me outer de briers!”
He rub it once, an' he rub it ag'in,
An' he wunk one eye, an' grinned a grin—
“I'll hang you high, an' maybe higher,
An' I'll fling you in de big quogmire!”
“Do des ez you please,” Brer Rabbit cry,
“An' I'll ax no reason, fer which er why;
You kin drown me deep, you kin hang me high,
An' not one tear will drap fum my eye;
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But please, oh, please, keep me outer de briers!”
Mr. Fox he tuck him at his word,
An' sont him sailin' like a bird,
Ez ef he wuz feather'd instidder furr'd,
Right spang in de briers growin' dar
Ez thick, ev'y bit, ez de thickest ha'r:
Brer Rabbit, he holla, “I ain't got a scratch!
I was bred an' born in de brier-patch!
You flung me in an' lif de latch:
Oh, one fine mornin', when day was dawnin',
I was bred an' born in de brier-patch!”
An' sont him sailin' like a bird,
Ez ef he wuz feather'd instidder furr'd,
Right spang in de briers growin' dar
Ez thick, ev'y bit, ez de thickest ha'r:
Brer Rabbit, he holla, “I ain't got a scratch!
I was bred an' born in de brier-patch!
You flung me in an' lif de latch:
Oh, one fine mornin', when day was dawnin',
I was bred an' born in de brier-patch!”
| The tar-baby and other rhymes of Uncle Remus | |