By Joel Chandler Harris
The little boy sat in a high chair and used his legs as drumsticks, much to the confusion of Uncle Remus, as it appeared. After a while the old man exclaimed:
“Well, my goodness en de gracious! how you ever in de roun’ worl’ er anywheres else speck me fer ter make any headway in tellin’ a tale wiles all dish yer racket gwine on? I don’t want ter call nobody’s pa, kase he mos’ allers talks too loud, en if I call der ma’t won’t make so mighty much difference, kase she done got so usen ter it dat she dunner w’en dey er makin’ any fuss. I believe dat ef everything wuz ter git right good en still on deze premises des one time, you’ ma would in about die wid de headache. Anyway, she’d be mighty sick, bekaze she ain’t usen ter not havin’ no fuss, en she des couldn’t git ’long widout it.
“I tell you right now, I’d be afeard fer ter tell any tale roun’ yer, kaze de fust news I know’d 84I’d git my eyes put out, er my leg broke, er sump’n’ n’er. I knows deze yer w’ite chillun, mon! dat I does; I knows um. Dey’ll git de upper hand er de niggers ef de Lord spar’s um. En he mos’ inginner’lly spar’s um.
“Well, now, ef you want ter hear dish yer tale w’at I bin tu’nin’ over in my min’ you des got ter come en set right yer in front er me, whar I kin keep my two eyes on you; kaze I ain’t gwine ter take no resks er no foolishness. Now, den, you des better behave, bekaze hit don’t cost me nothin’ fer ter cut dis tale right short off.
“One time der wuz a miller man w’at live by a river en had a mill. He wuz a mighty smart man. He tuck so much toll dat he tuck ’n buyed ’im a house, en’ he want ter rent dat ’ar house out ter folks, but de folks dey ’lowed dat de house wuz ha’nted. Dey’d come ’en rent de house, dey would, en move in dar, en den go upsta’rs en go ter bed. Dey’d go ter bed, dey would, but dey couldn’t sleep, en time it got day dey’d git out er dat house.
“De miller man, he ax’d um w’at de matter wuz, but dey des shuck der head en’ ’low de house wuz ha’nted. Den he tuck ’n try ter fine out w’at kind er ha’nt she wuz dat skeer folks. He sleep in de house, but he ain’t see nothin’, en de mos’ 85w’at he year wuz a big ole gray cat a-promenadin’ roun’ en hollerin’. Bimeby hit got so dat dey want no fun in havin’ de ha’nted house, en w’en folks’d come ’long de miller man, he’d des up en tell um dat de house ’uz ha’nted. Some ’ud go up en some wouldn’t, but dem w’at went up didn’t stay, kaze des ’bout bedtime dey’d fetch a yell en des come a-rushin’ down, en all de money in de Nunited States er Georgy wouldn’t git um fer ter go back up dar.
“Hit went on dis away twel one time a preacher man com’ ’long dar en say he wanted some’rs ter stay. He was a great big man, en he look like he wuz good accordin’. De miller man say he hate mighty bad for to discommerdate ’im, but he des pintedly ain’t got no place whar he kin put ’im ’cep’ dat ’ar ha’nted house. De preacher man say he des soon stay dar ez anywhar’s, kase he bin livin’ in deze low-groun’s er sorrer too long fer ter be sot back by any one-hoss ha’nts. De miller man ’lowed dat he wuz afeard de ha’nts ’ud worry ’im might’ly, but de preacher man ’low, he did, dat he use ter bein’ worried, en he up en tell de miller man dat he’d a heap rather stay in de house wid de ha’nt, no matter how big she is, dan ter stay out doors in de rain.
“So de miller man, he ’low he ain’t got no mo’ 86’pology fer ter make, bekaze ef de preacher man wuz ready fer ter face de ha’nts and set up dar en out blink um, dey wouldn’t be nobody in de roun’ worl’ no gladder dan ’im. Den de miller man showed de preacher man how ter git in de house en had ’im a great big fier built. En atter de miller man wuz done gone, de preacher man drawed a cheer up ter de fier en waited fer de ha’nts, but dey ain’t no ha’nts come. Den w’en dey ain’t no ha’nts come, de preacher man tuck ’n open up he satchel en got ’im out some spar’ ribs en sot um by de fier fer ter cook, en den he got down en said he pra’rs, en den he got up en read he Bible. He wuz a mighty good man, mon, en he prayed en read a long time. Bimeby, w’en his spar’ ribs git done, he got some bread out’n he satchel, en fixed fer ter eat his supper.
“By de time he got all de meat off’n one er de ribs, de preacher man listened, en he year’d a monst’us scramblin’ en scratchin’ on de wall. He look aroun’, he did, en dar wuz a great big black cat a-sharpenin’ ’er claws on de door facin’. Folks, don’t talk! dat ’ar cat wuz er sight! Great long w’ite toofs en great big yaller eye-balls a-shinin’ like dey wuz lit up way back in ’er head. She stood dar a minit, dat ole black cat did, en den she ’gun ter sidle up like she wuz gwine ter mount dat preacher man right dar en den. But de preacher man, he des shoo’d at ’er, en it seem like dis sorter skeer’d ’er, kaze she went off.
“But de preacher man, he kep’ his eye open, en helt on ter his spar’ rib. Present’y he year de ole black cat comin’ back, en dis time she fotch wid ’er a great big gang er cats. Dey wuz all black des like she wuz, en der eye-balls shineded en der lashes wuz long en w’ite. Hit look like de preacher man wuz a-gwine ter git surroundered.
“Dey come a-sidlin’ up, dey did, en de ole black cat made a pass at de preacher man like she wuz a-gwine ter t’ar he eyes out. De preacher man dodged, but de nex’ pass she made de preacher man fotch ’er wipe with his spar’ rib en cut off one er ’er toes. Wid dat de ole black cat fotch a yell dat you might a yeard a mile, en den she gin ’erself a sort er a twis’ en made her disappearance up de chimbley, en w’en she do dat all de yuther cats made der disappearance up de chimbley. De preacher man he got up, he did, en looked und’ de bed fer ter see ef he kin fine any mo’ cats, but dey wuz all done gone.
“Den he tuck ’n pick up de cat toe w’at he done knock off wid de spar’ rib, en wrop it up in a piece er paper en put it in he pocket. Den he say his pra’rs some mo’, en went ter bed en slep’ right straight along twel broad daylight, en nuthin’ ain’t dast ter bodder ’im.
“Nex’ mornin’ de preacher man got up, he did, en say his pra’rs en eat his breakkus, en den he ’low ter hisse’f dat he’ll go by en tell de miller man dat he mighty much erblige. ’Fo’ he start, hit come ’cross he min’ ’bout de cats w’at pester ’im de night befo’, and he tuck ’n feel in he pockets fer de big black cat toe w’at he done cut off wid de spar’ rib. But it seems like de toe done grow in de night, en bless goodness! w’en he unwrop it ’t want nuthin’ less dan a great big finger wid a ring on it.
“So de preacher man tuck ’n fix up all his contrapments, en den call on de miller man en tol’ ’im he wuz mighty much erblige kaze he let ’im stay in de house. De miller man wuz ’stonish’ fer ter see de preacher man, kaze he knew dat w’en folks stay all night in dat house dey ain’t come down no mo’. He wuz ’stonish’, but he didn’t say much. He des stan’ still en wunder.
“But de preacher man, he up ’n ax ’bout de miller man’s wife, en say he wants ter see ’er en tell ’er good-bye, bein’ ez how dey ’d all bin so good. So de miller man, he tuck ’n kyar de preacher inter de room whar his wife wuz layin’ in bed. De ole ’oman had de counterpin drawed up und’ ’er chin, but she look mighty bad roun’ de eyes. Yit, she tuck ’n’ howdied de preacher man en tole ’im he wuz mighty welcome.
“Dey talk en talk, dey did, en atter w’ile de preacher man hoi’ out his han’ fer ter tell de ’oman good-bye; but de ’oman, she belt out ’er lef’ han’, she did, like she want dat fer ter git shucken. But de preacher man wouldn’t shake dat un. He say dat ain’t nigh gwine ter do, bekaze w’en folks got any perliteness lef’ dey don’t never hol’ out de lef’ han’. De ’oman she say her right wuz cripple, but her ole man ’low he ain’t never hear ’bout dat befo’, en den he tuck’n make ’er pull it out from und’ de kivver, en den dey seed dat one er ’er fingers wuz done clean gone. De miller man he up ’n ’low:
“‘How come dis?’
“De ’oman she ’low, ‘I cut it off.’
“De miller man he ’low, ‘How you cut it off?’
“De ’oman she ’low, ‘I knock it off?’
“De miller man he ’low, ‘Wharbouts you knock it off?’
“De ’oman she ’low, ‘I broke it off’
“De miller man he ’low, ‘When you break it off?’
“Den de ’oman she ain’t say nuthin’. She des lay dar, she did, en pant en look skeered. De preacher man he study a little en den he say he speck he kin kyo’ dat han’, en he tuck de finger out ’n he pocket en tried it on de ’oman’s han’, en it fit! Yassar! it fit in de place right smick smack smoove. Den de preacher man he up en tell de miller man dat de ’oman wuz a witch, en wid dat de ’oman fetched a yell en kivvered ’er head wid de counterpin.
“Yit dis ain’t do ’er no good, kaze de preacher man say he done look in de books en de onliest way fer ter kyo’ a witch is ter bu’n ’er; en it ain’t look so bad, nuther, kaze when dey tied ’er she tuck ’n tu’n ter be a great big black cat, en dat’s de way she wuz w’en she wuz burnt.”
