By Joel Chandler Harris
There was one story that the little boy whom Uncle Remus delighted to entertain asked for with great regularity, perhaps because it has in it an element of witchcraft, and was as marvelous as it was absurd. Sometimes Uncle Remus pretended to resent this continued demand for the story, although he himself, like all the negroes, was very superstitious, and believed more or less in witches and witchcraft.
“Dat same ole tale,” he would say. “Well! well! well! W’en is we gwine ter year de las’ un it? I done tole you dat tale so much dat it make my flesh crawl, kaze I des know dat some er deze yer lonesome nights I’ll be a-settin’ up yer by de fier atter you done gone. I’ll be a-settin’ up yer dreamin’ ’bout gwine ter bed, en sumpin’ ’n’er ’ll come a-clawin’ at de do’, en I’ll up en ax, ‘Who dat?’ En dey’ll up en ’spon’, ‘Lemme in.’ En I’ll ondo de do’, en dat ole creetur’ll walk in, en dat’ll be de las’ er po’ ole Remus’ En den w’en dat come ter pass, who gwine take time fer ter tell you tales? Dat w’at I like ter know.”
The little boy, although he well knew that there were no witches, would treat this statement with gravity, as the story to him was as fascinating as one of the “Thousand and One Nights.”
“Well, Uncle Remus,” he would say, “just tell it this time!” Whereupon the old negro, with the usual preliminary flourishes, began:
“One time, ’way back yander, w’en de moon wuz lots bigger dan w’at she is now, dar wuz er ole Witch-Wolf livin’ ’way off in de swamp, en dish yer ole Witch-Wolf wuz up to ter all sorts er contrariness. Look like she wuz cross-ways wid de whole er creation. W’en she wa’n’t doin’ devilment, she wuz studyin’ up devilment. She had a mighty way, de ole Witch-Wolf did, dat w’en she git hungry she’d change ’erse’f ter be a ’oman. She could des shet ’er eye en smack ’er mouf, en stiddier bein’ a big black wolf, wid long claws en green eye-balls, she’d come ter be the likelies’ lookin’ gal dat you mos’ ever seed.
“It seem like she love ter eat folks, but’fo’ she kin eat urn she hatter marry um; en w’en she take a notion, she des change ’erse’f ter be a likely lookin’ gal, en sails in en git married. Den w’en she do dat, she des take en change ’erse’f back ter be a wolf, en eat um up raw. Go whar you kin, en whar you mout, en yit I don’t ’speck you kin fin’ any wuss creetur dan w’at dis ole Witch-Wolf wuz.
“Well, sir, at de same time w’en dis ole Witch-Wolf gwine on dis away, dey wuz a man livin’ in de neighborhood w’at she took a mighty notion fer ter marry. De man had lan’, but she ain’t want de lan’; de man had hosses, but she ain’t want de hosses; de man had cows, but she ain’t want de cows. She des nat’ally want de man hisse’f, kaze he mighty fat en nice.”
“Did she want to marry him, Uncle Remus?” the little boy asked, as though the tale were true, as indeed it seemed to be while Uncle Remus was telling it and acting it.
“Tooby sho’, honey! Dat ’zactly w’at she want. She want ter marry ’im, en eat ’im up. Well, den, w’en she git eve’ything good en ready, she des tuck ’n back ’er years, en bat ’er eyes, en smack ’er mouf, and dar she wuz—a likely young gal! She up en got ter de lookin’-glass, she did, en swinge ’er ha’r wid de curlin’-tongs, en tie ribbons on ’er cloze, en fix up ’er beau-ketchers. She look nice, fit ter kill, now. Den she tuck ’n pass by de man house, en look back en snicker, en hol’ ’er head on one side, en sorter shake out ’er cloze, en put ’er han’ up fer ter see ef de ha’rpins in der place. She pass by dis away lots er times, en bimeby de man kotch a glimp’ un ’er; en no sooner is he do dis dan she wave her hankcher. De man he watch ’er en watch er, en bimeby, atter she kep’ on whippin’ by, he come out en hail ’er. En den she tuck ’n stop, en nibble at ’er fan en fumble wid ’er hankcher, en dey tuck ’n stan’ dar, dey did, en pass de time er day. Atter dat de sun never riz en set widout she hol’ some confab wid de man; en ’t want long ’fo’ de man took a notion dat she de very gal fer a wife, w’at he bin a-huntin’ fer. Wid dat dey des got right down ter ole-fashion courtin’. Dey’d laugh, dey’d giggle, dey ’d’spute, dey’d pout. You ain’t never seen folks a-courtin’, is you, honey?”
The little boy never had, and he said so.
“Well, den,” Uncle Remus would continue, “you ain’t none de wuss off fer dat, kaze dey ain’t nuthin’ in de roun’ worl’ dat’ll turn yo’ stomach quicker. But dar dey wuz, en de ole Witch-Wolf make sho’ she wuz gwine ter git de man; let lone dat, de man he make sho’ he wuz gwine ter git de gal. Yit de man he belt back, en ef de Witch-Wolf hadn’t er bin afeard she’d drap de fat in de fier, she’d er des come right out en pop de question den en dar. But de man he helt back en helt back, en bimeby he say ter hisse’f, he did, dat he ’speck he better make some inquirements ’bout dis yer gal. Yit who sh’ll he go ter?
“He study en study, en atter w’ile hit come ’cross he min’ dat he better go en ax ole Jedge Rabbit ’bout ’er, bein’ ez he bin livin’ ’roun’ dar a mighty long time.
“Ole Jedge Rabbit,” Uncle Remus would explain, “done got ole in age en gray in de min’. He done sober up en settle down, en I let you know dey want many folks in dem diggin’s but w’at went ter ole Jedge Rabbit w’en dey git in trouble. So de man he went ter Jedge Rabbit house en rap at de do’. Jedge Rabbit, he ’low, he did, ‘Who dat?’
“Man he up en ’spon’, ‘Hit’s me.’
“Den Jedge Rabbit ’gin ter talk like one er deze yer town lawyers. He ’low, he did, ‘Mighty short name fer grown man. Gimme de full entitlements.’
“Man he gun um ter ’im, en den ole Jedge Rabbit open de do’ en let ’im in. Dey sot dar by de fier, dey did, twel bimeby’t want long ’fo’ de man ’gun ter tell ’im ’bout dish yer great gal w’at he bin courtin’ ’long wid. Bimeby Jedge Rabbit ax ’im, sezee, ‘W’at dish yer great gal name?’
“Man he ’low, ‘Mizzle-Mazzle,’
“Jedge Rabbit look at de man sort er like he takin’ pity on ’im, en den he tuk he cane en make a mark in de ashes. Den he ax de man how ole is dish yer great gal. Man tol’ ’im. Jedge Rabbit make ’n’er mark in de ashes. Den he ax de man is she got cat eyes. Man sort er study ’bout dis, but he say he ’speck she is. Jedge Rabbit make ’n’er mark. Den he ax is ’er years peaked at de top. Man ’low he disremember, but he speck dey is. Jedge Rabbit make ’n’er mark in de ashes. Den he ax is she got yaller ha’r. Man say she is. Jedge Rabbit make ’n’er mark. Den he ax is ’er toofs sharp. Man say dey is. Jedge Rabbit make ’n’er mark. Atter he done ax all dis, Jedge Rabbit got up, he did, en went ’cross de room ter de lookin’-glass. W’en he see hisse’f in dar, he tuck ’n shet one eye, s-l-o-w. Den he sot down en leant back in de cheer, en ’low, sezee:
“‘I done had de idee in my head dat ole Mizzle-Mazzle done moof out ’n de country, en yit yer she is gallopin’ ’roun’ des ez natchul ez a dead pig in de sunshine!’
“Man look ’stonish, but he ain’t say nuthin’. Jedge Rabbit keep on talkin’.
“‘You ain’t never bin trouble’ wid no trouble yit, but ef you wan’ ter be trouble’ wid trouble dat’s double en thribble trouble, you des go en marry ole Mizzle-Mazzle,’ sezee. ‘You nee’nter b’lieve me less ’n you wan’ ter,’ sezee. ‘Des go ’long en marry ’er,’ sezee.
“Man he look skeerd. He up en ’low, he did, ‘W’at de name er goodness I gwine do?’
“Ole Jedge Rabbit look sollumcolly. ‘You got any cows?’ sezee.
“Man say he got plenty un um.
“‘Well, den,’ sez ole Jedge Rabbit, sezee, ‘ax ’er ef she kin keep house. She’ll say yasser. Ax ’er ef she kin cook. She’ll say yasser. Ax er ef she kin scour. She’ll say yasser. Ax ’er ef she kin wash cloze. She’ll say yasser. Ax ’er ef she kin milk de red cow. Den see w’at she say.’
“Man, he ’low, he did, dat he mighty much erbleege ter ole Jedge Rabbit, en wid dat he make he bow en tuck he leaf. He went home, he did, en w’en he git dar, sho’ ’nuff dar wuz dish yer nice-lookin’ gal a pommynadin’ up en down de road, en shakin’ ’er hankcher. Man, he hail ’er, he did, en ax ’er how she come on. She ’low she purty well, en how do he do. Man say he feelin’ sort er po’ly. Den she up en ax ’im w’at de matter. Man say he ’speck he feel po’ly kaze he so powerful lonesome. Den dish yer nice-lookin’ gal, she ax ’im w’at make he so powerful lonesome. Man he say he ’speck he so powerful lonesome kase he want ter marry.
“Time de man come out so flat-footed ’bout marryin’, de gal, she ’gun ter work wid ’er fan, en chaw at ’er hankcher. Den, atter w’ile, she up en ax ’im who he wan’ ter marry. Man ’low he ain’t no ways ’tickler, kase he des want somebody fer ter take keer er de house w’en he gone, en fer ter set down by de fier, en keep ’im comp’ny w’en he at home. Den he up en ax de gal kin she keep house. De gal she ’low, ‘Yasser!’ Den he ax ’er ef she kin cook. She ’low, ‘Yasser!’ Den he ax ’er ef she kin scour. She ’low, ‘Yasser!’ Den he ax ’er ef she kin wash cloze. She ’low, ‘Yasser!’ Den he ax ’er ef she kin milk de red cow. Wid dat she flung up ’er han’s, en fetched a squall dat make de man jump.
“‘Law!’ sez she, ‘does you speck I’m a-gwine ter let dat cow hook me?’
“Man, he say de cow des ez gentle ez a dog.
“‘Does you speck I’m a-gwine ter let dat cow kick me crank-sided?’ sez she.
“Man, he ’low, he did, dat de cow won’t kick, but dat ar gal she tuck ’n make mo’ skuses dan dey is frogs in de spring branch, but bimeby she say she kin try. But she ’low dat fus’ ’fo’ she try dat she’ll show ’im how she kin keep house. So the nex’ mornin’ yer she come, en I let you know she sailed in dar, en sot dat house ter rights ’fo’ some wimmen folks kin tun ’roun’. Man, he say, he did, dat she do dat mighty nice.
“Nex’ day, de gal sot in en got dinner. Man say, he did, dat dey ain’t nobody w’at kin beat dat dinner. Nex’ day, she sot in en scoured, en she make that flo’ shine same ez a lookin’-glass. Man, he say dey ain’t nobody in dat neighborhoods kin beat dat scourin’. Nex’ day, she come fer ter milk de red cow, en de man, he ’low ter hisse’f, he did, dat he gwine ter see w’at make she don’t like ter milk dat cow.
“De gal come, she did, en git de milk-piggin’, en scald it out, en den she start fer de cow-lot. Man, he crope ’long atter de gal fer ter watch ’er. Gal went on, en w’en she come ter de lot dar wuz de red cow stan’in’ in de fence-cornder wallopin’ ’er cud. Gal, she sorter shuck de gate, she did, en holler, ‘Sook, cow! Sook, cow!’ Cow, she pearten up at dat, kaze she know w’en folks call ’er dat away, she gwine ter come in fer a bucket er slops.
“She pearten up, de red cow did, en start todes de gate, but, gentermens! time she smell dat gal, she ’gun a blate like she smell blood, en paw’d de groun’ en shuck ’er head des like she fixin’ fer ter make fight. Man, he ’low ter hisse’f dat dish yer kinder business mighty kuse, en he keep on watchin’. Gal, she open de gate, but stiddier de cow makin’ fight, she ’gun ter buck. Gal, she say, ‘So, cow! so, cow, so!’ but de cow she hist her tail in de elements, en run ’roun’ dat lot like de dogs wuz atter ’er. Gal, she foller on, en hit sorter look like she gwine ter git de cow hemmed up in a cornder, but de cow ain’t got no notion er dis, en bimeby she whirl en make a splunge at de gal, en ef de gal hadn’t er lipt de fence quick es she did de cow would er got ’er. Ez she lipt de fence, de man seed ’er foots, en, lo en beholes, dey wuz wolf foots! Man, he holler out:
“‘You oughter w’ar shoes w’en you come a-milkin’ de red cow!’ en wid dat, de ole Witch-Wolf gun a twist, en fetched a yell, en made ’er disappearance in de elements.”
Here Uncle Remus paused awhile. Then he shook his head, and exclaimed:
“’T ain’t no use! Dey may fool folks, but cows knows wil’ creeturs by der smell.”
