He brer go hunt um bofe. Nuttin git 'im, kase 'e got er rattle-
snake belt an' er duck-wing whustle an' er silveh bullit in he
gun. De painteh et he kinfolks, but dat de las' o' dat kine o'
eatin'. Dat painteh git kilt and et up hisse'f, an' he hide, hit
hang in de sun, but de gostes o' dat man's kinfolks wuz allus
a-perawdin' eroun' whah dat hide wuz."
" I knowed er man," said Aunt Em'ly, " dat kilt er mammy-
painter an' tuck de kitten home, an' dat kitten wuz ez fr'en'ly ez
er pup. Hit sleep wid de baby in de ole log c'adle an' hit lap
milk out en de baby's tin cup, but, all de same, w'en dat pet
kitty git big, one night, de man hyeah sorter guggle lak
chokin' an' sorter smack lak suckin', an' dat go on twell he
jump up an' light er chunk an' look in de c'adle. Gord ! Dat
painter-kitty done cut de baby's thote an' suckin' hit blood I
He jerk de gun off de hawns (deer-horns used as a gun-rack)
an' shoot de painter, but wut o' dat ? de poor baby daid. Oh,
mon ! de paintehs is varmints, but dey's debbils too ! "
The audience gloomily acquiesced, and mused and smoked in
silence until Uncle John " drapped in " and, on finding the
cause of the depression, plunged into description of a " festible "
he had attended a few nights previous.
" An' arter de chickens an' bile custahd wuz et," he went on
with growing enthusiasm, <f de ladies all stud up, wid Aunt
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 289
Stacie at de haid un um, an' Misteh Hicks, he sot out ter
darnce dat ( shiny-eye ' darnce dat am er sorter painter-play
too. My ! hit mek my eye bat now, ter t'ink how fine 'twuz.
Misteh Hicks, he laigs des ez limmer ez wilier-twigs, he des
kyurve roun' ez light ez er budh on de wing. He sorter
'vance an' sorter dror off an' den sail up ter de fust o' dem
thutty ladies a-stannin' in er row an' he say
" Whah my eye ? '
an' ez she say,
' Shiny-eye ! '
he tuhn 'er roun' ez sorf ez ef huh footses bin mek outen
feddehs, an' den he go on ter de nex, an' de nex', twell he tuhn
" Den I tuck de stan', an' w'en I thu, de turr boys foller, an'
w'en all bin down de line, we wuz dat hot an' sweaty scuse
me, ladies we wuz all shiny-eyes. Dat HI Mose, he wuz de
las', an' w'en he come ter dat yaller gal, Hanner, dat wuhk at
de bodin'-(boarding) house, he say
* \fourf my eye*
dat sweet dat hit seem lak de 'lasses wuz des a-dribblin' outen
de corndehs ob he mouf."
" Wut she do ? " asked Aunt Mary, bridling at Uncle John's
" She let on lak she gwine tuhn 'er back, den she giggle an*
shuck 'er shouldehs, but all de time she puttin' 'er han' forruds
foh 'im ter grab. Shuh ! er ooman's er ooman, an' de mo' she
run, de mo' she gwine ter be dis'pointed ef yo' ain't got de spry-
ness ter ketch up."
" Dem's fools ez does," said Aunt Mary, suddenly sour.
" Does ketch up ? No, no, my honey, my lub, my turkl-dub.
De ladies is de meat on de bone, de sugeh in de dram. Yes-
suh 1 Now, ladies, les all stan' up an' try dat ' shiny-eye.' "
290 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO.
Gemplum. Whah my eye ?
Lady. Shiny-eye !
Gemplum. Who got my eye ?
Lady. Shiny-eye !
Gemplum. Am dis my eye?
Lady. Shiny -eye !
Gemplum. Who foun' my eye?
Lady. Shiny-eye !
Gemplum. I los' my eye.
Lady. Shiny-eye !
Gemplum. I foun' my eye I
Lady. Tee-hee ! -S-sh-shiny-eye!
THE LAST GLEANING OF THE FIELD.
Tow HEAD had been off on what Granny was pleased to term
a "jant," and had not seen her old friends for weeks. She
insisted on the evening meeting being turned into a festival of
rejoicing at her return. When everybody had inspected her
small figure and assured her that she had " growed mightily,"
been missed " heaps," and " wouldn' skusely a-bin knowed ef
met up wid on de big road," she had "corned on so," had
expressed unbounded gratitude for her most astonishing and
inappropriate presents, and had vowed to keep them "fr evveh-
nevveh an' amen," she demanded a story, " a nice one
without any snakes or jackys at all."
" Hit am a-gittin' late foh tales. De icicles is down an' de
fros' a-comin' up oulen de groun'," expostulated Granny.
<( Hit fetch bad luck ter tell tales arter de HI booggers dat's bin
froze up all de winteh gits loose an' goes a-perawdin' eroun'
" It's awfully cold to-night," insisted Tow Head, trying hard
to shiver. " Tell a bird story, do, or else I'll go off and stay
until you won't know me."
" I reck'n we betteh gin in, ef dat am wut am afo' us. Tell
'er er tale, Aunt Em'ly, soster sabe de feelin's ob de fambly."
" Sure 1 dat de wuhk foh yo' own se'f, Aunt Jinny."
"G'long wid yo'. Ise a-tuhnin' er tale roun' in my
membunce an' a-huntin' foh de fust eend un hit, but 'tain't
292 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
show out wid me yit. G'long, Aunt Em'ly, de w'iles I sorter
sort out dat membunce dat's a-gittin' so ole an' frazzly."
" Frazzly ! Shucks ! Wen yo' git frazzly I be plum wo' out,
dar now ! Ef hit 'bleege yo' dough, I tell de onles' tale dat's
lef me ur is I tole yo' a'ready, de tale ob de two b'ars an' Ole
Woodpeckeh ? "
" Oh, no ! you have not."
" Sholy ? "
" Surely. You have told only of the one bear Old Wood-
pecker fooled out of his claws."
" Dat'n ain't de one. Dishaway dis urr tale go :
" Dey wuz wunst er ole mammy b'ar dat wuz er widdeh-
b'ar, an', ez she wuz gwine 'long thu de woods, one time hit
wuz 'long in de spring-time she met up wid nurr b'ar dat
wuz er ole maid. Arter dey ax one nurr howdy an' pass de
time o' day an' say how dey feel lonesome now dey fambly all
bruck up, dey sorter 'gree an' mek hit up dat dey keep house
tergerreh enduin' o' de wa'm weddeh. So say, so do, an' dey
settle down tergerreh des ez dey laid off, an' dey hunt an' dey
fish an' 'vide eben (divide evenly) an' fa'r twell ole Miss Wid-
deh-b'ar, she tuck er cole mm a-gittin' 'er footses wet w'en she
was out a-fishin', an' hit sottle in 'er eyes, hit did, an' bimeby hit
putt um clean out. Dat wuz er bad time foh Miss B'ar. Dar she
wuz, in 'er own house, but dat ole maid b'ar ain' fetch 'er nuttin
but de bones ; all de good meat she don't eat right up she keep
on de high swingin' she'fin de sulleh whah po' olebline mammy
kyarn' fine hit. Mammy, she sorter s'pishin' sumpin, but dar
she am, an' no use ter say nuttin, but she git mo' leaner all de
time, twell 'er bones rattle w'en de win' blow an' 'er hide flop
lak er flag on de hill-top. Ef 'twuzzent foh Ole Woodpeckeh,
ole mammy, she'd des natchelly a-gin up de gose, but he wuz
a-knockin' roun* mungs de shingles on de roof an' he hyeah
ole mammy snumn' an' cryin' de ole maid wuz out a-huntin*
an' he peek down de chimbly an' see des how 'twuz.
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 293
" ' Nemmine ! ' he say, ' I fix dat.' Den he holler down,
1 Hello, mammy ! come he'p me.'
" She stop de cryin' an' say
" ' Who is yo' ? '
" He holler 'gin
" ' Ise er po' HI boy got stuck in yo' chimbly.'
" Stiddier scolin' lak de ole maid 'd a-done, po' ole mammy
grope ter de chimbly an' feel roun' ter he'p.
"OLE MISS WIDDEH-B'AR, SHE TUCK ER COLE FUM A-GITTIN' ER
FOOTSES WET W'EN SHE WAS OUT A-F1SHIN'."
" i Po' chile,' sez she, ' Ise 'feard I kyarn' do much. Holler
1 gin sost I kin tell des whah yo' is, kase Ise bline, honey.'
" He holler an' holler an' keep ole mammy a-feelin' roun'
twell she des 'stractid. Den, all on de suddint, he fling er
chahm spang in 'er face dat fetch back 'er sight dat quick
dat she see Ole Woodpeckeh fly outen dat chimbly an' cl'ar
294 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
" She run ter de do* an r holler
" ' T'anky, Marse Woodpeckeh, t'anky,' an' den she hunt
foh vittles. She foun' um too, on dat high swingin' she'f in
de sulleh, an' she et all de meat an' lay back de bone 'fo' ole
maid git back.
" She ain't say nuttin.
" Ole maid see how 'tis an* she ain't say nuttin.
" Arter dat dey git 'long putty well, an' w'en dey tuhn in
(turn in hibernate) ole mammy wuz de fattes.' Dey don'
keep house dataway, dey don't, de nex' spring, dough, kase ole
mammy, she merry 'gin, an' wut come o' de ole maid I dunno."
"Maybe she went to the mountains, or, maybe, she went
into the woods and, when the trees began to walk and talk at
midnight, they killed her or pulled her tail oft, or something,"
hazarded Tow Head.
" Mebbe so, honey, mebbe so, but le's gin 'er up now, an'
git dat tale fum Aunt Jinny. By de way she bat 'er eye I km
tell dat hit's on han's."
It was " on han's," and, as Granny said, " dreened one po*
ole ooman dry " of bird stories. It was of the bee-king, the
shell-bark hickory and the bee-martin less about the martin,
indeed, than the tree and the king, still it would pass for a bird
" In de good ole times dey wuz times w'en de folkses wuz
pestehed des lak dey is now. Dey wuz times w'en de chilluns
git beans up der noses an' bugs in dey yeahs, an' de chimlies
smoked, an' de butteh won't come, an' de kerridge hosses go
lame, an de perarer fiah buhn up all de fences, an' de young
crittehs lay down in de fiel' an' die 'pear lak des foh spite. Oh,
yes ! dat allus bin de way, an' de ole bee-king he own se'f 'low
nobody know de trouble he hab. Dat wuz troof too, he hin
hab heaps o' werrimint wid de b'ars an' de mot-millehs (moth-
millers) an' de humin' crittehs a-sneakin' arter de honey-comb,
an' de buhd san' de toads, an' de fishes too, a-snappin' at de
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 295
bees. Hit 'pear lak some day he des gwine ter fly clean off de
hannel an' go plum 'stractid. One yeah, hit 'pear lak he des
gwine ter lose de las'es' bee he got. Ole Bee-Martin, 1 he hab
de big luck a-ketchin' ob um twell he s'prise he own se'f. De
bees dey staht out in de mawnin' des ez spry, an' dey go
a-hummin' an' a-buzzin' to'des de perarer-blooms an' de tree-
tossels, an' dey don't ne'er git back no mo'. Dey des natchelly
gone, cl'ar an' clean ez er gose (ghost) arter sun-up. Hit keep
on dataway mos' all de summeh-tirne, an' Ole Bee-King, he
study an' he study, an' he watch an' he watch, an' he am' see
nuttin git dem bees. Mor'n dat, he ain't s'pishin' nuttin ne-er.
He see um sot out, he see um load up wid honey, he see um
staht out foh ter tote dat honey home. Up, up dey go, den
he don't see um come down. Dey don't come down. ' Sumpin
a-ketchin' ob um,' sez Ole Bee-King, sez 'e. Den he look up
an' shade he eye wid de han', dishaway, an' he keep a-lookin'.
De sun so strong he wink an' shuh ! whah dem bees ? Bees
gone foh good. Mighty bad ! King, he mighty mad. Nem-
mine, at de las' he ketch de t'ief. He hole one eye open an'
wink wid de turr. Den he hole turr eye open an' wink wid de
fust shet. Dat way he see mighty trashy, long-tail brown buhd
sneak outen de shag-bahk (rough bark) hick'ry tree leabes an'
grab dem bees des ez quick ez lightnin' an' den fly back an' hide.
" ' Uh huh ! ' sez Ole Bee-King, sez 'e, * so dat's de way, am
hit ? Dat ole shag-bahk bin on de watch, an' de minnit dat
I tuhn my back ur shet my peepuhs, he gin dat low down,
ornery t'ief de wuhd (wood), an* he sail in an' eat my chilluns,'
sez 'e. * De owdashus ole squirr'l-feedeh ! Ef I ain' stop he
tricks an' gin 'im sumpin ter 'membeh me by inter de bahgin,
den I dunno bees fum bug-aigs,' sez 'e.
" Fust, he t'ink 'e peterfack 'im, but den de ole shag-bahk's
troubles 'd a-bin done foh good an' all. Shoh ! he t'ink 'gin
an' he ain't satify. Den he study some mo', an' den he git up
1 A bird which preys op trees.
OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
an' shahpen he fingeh-nails. Dat done, he run up 'gin de ole
shag-bahk an' gun 'im sech er clawin' dat he leabe 'im wid de
bahk all frazzle out ez 'tis ter dis day. Dat ain't satify Ole
Bee-King yit. He tuck an' tuck er big straw an' suck all de
sweetnin' outen de hulls o' all de nuts dey wuz sweet ez plums
'fo' dat an' den he tek de straw an' blow in some puckeh-juice
(pucker, astringent, puckering the mouth) outen er mean weed.
" * Now,' he say, 'lemme see yo' coax my bees ter come anigh
yo'. Yo' sweetnin' gone foh good.'
"OLE BEE-KING HE TUCK AN 5 TUCK ER BIG S'l RAW.
" 'Twuz too. Dem hulls bitteh ter dis day. Dat mighty
hahd ter stan', but wut mo' hahd yet wuz dat nuttin wuzzent
done unter de bee-martin dat et de bees. To-be-sho, Ole Bee-
King, he lay off ter gin 'im he come-uppunce, but den Bee-
Martin, he so spry an' so sly dat he ain't ne'er gin 'im de charnce
" Why didn't Bee-King petrify the hickory? " asked the child,
with a disappointed air.
" T dunno, honey, no mo'n yo' own se'f, medout de ole king
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 297
thunk dat too easy 'bout stoppin' trouble, but de nex' time I
sees 'im I gwine ter putt dat queschin pintedly."
" Pettifyin' dangis (is dangerous)," said Big Angy, and, as a
proof of this, told of
THE HAND OF STONE.
In the old time a beautiful girl came to the earth. No one
knew where she came from, and she never would give any
account of herself. All that was known was that one day
some young braves standing near a village saw something fall
through the air very swiftly and alight on a hill close by. They
ran to the hill and found there the girl, unhurt, but seemingly
bewildered. By signs they invited her to go with them to the
village. She went willingly. The chief's wife would have
kept her, but she would not have it so. She went to an empty
lodge and stayed there ; she refused all presents of food, and
went down to the river near by and called to the fish in strange
words. When they came to the surface of the water, in
response to her call, she gathered them up, one by one, using
only her left hand, and ate them, bones and all. Soon she
learned the language of the people, and talked pleasantly with
them. The hearts of the young men turned to her, for no
girl of the village was her equal in beauty and grace. She
smiled on all, and all were her lovers. Many went to her lodge,
and none came out the same as they went in. They went in
men, they came out helpless children. This made the old men
and the women hate and fear her, but the young men were
bewitched, and would listen to no counsel the sight of their
foolish companions was no warning they bitterly denied that
the beautiful stranger had wrought the evil. Many plans were
laid by the old men and women to destroy her, but they never
came to anything, she was too wise and too wary. It was a
young woman that finally delivered the people, a young wife
whose husband had been turned from her. She secretly followed
298 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
him to the stranger's lodge and watched. By the moonlight
she saw the stranger withdraw her right hand from the folds
of the robe where it was usually hidden. The light fell on it.
It was of stone. With it she touched the breast of the faithless
husband. Then she pushed him from the door. The young
wife saw what happened, and in silence and sorrow led him
home. All his pride and courage were dead. His heart was
stiffened into stone by the hand that had touched him. The
poor wife went to the sorcerers and told them what she had
learned. When they heard they trembled, they could think
of no spell strong enough to protect the village. Were all the
young men to become imbeciles, and was the name of the
people to be forgotten ? They deliberated a long time, trying
to recall some old charm strong enough to overpower this
supernatural woman. They fasted solemnly, and entreated
aid from the spirit that had always helped them. After that
they could only wait. For a time no help seemed coming.
The woman went on doing mischief, but mischief was not to
last always. One day she went as usual down a steep, high
bluff to a narrow, low strip of bank where she was wont to
look into the deep water and call up the fish. This time she
called and none came. She called again and again. Finally,
she stamped her foot and said words that would dismay devils
even. Then came up a little fish like silver. She took him
into her mouth and began to swallow. He began to swell.
She choked, and vainly essayed to get him down her throat.
When she could not, and he continued to grow, she tried to
spit him out of her mouth. That she could not do either, so
she took her hand and tried to pull him out. When she failed
in that, she forgot all caution and, leaning against the bluff,
pulled hard with both hands. Alas ! the fish stiffened into
stone, choking her horribly. In agony she clutched her throat,
she beat her breast, but her trouble was soon over, soon she
was no longer a woman. All her body became as that evil
AND OTHER SORCERERS.
right hand. The rocky bluff received her as a part of itself,
and there she stands to this day, as many have seen as they
floated down the great Missouri river. Thus were the people
rid of her. Those of good mind and courage rejoiced, but
those foolish victims, who were never cured of her enchant-
ment, went about grieving for her and seeking her as long as
" Dat mus' a-bin de fish dat kilt Pelican, "cried Aunt Em'ly,
" Mebbe," said Big Angy, rather sourly.
" Did a fish turn Pelican to stone ? " questioned Tow Head.
300 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
" No, honey," answered Aunt Em'ly, with a solemnity
befitting the recounting of a tragedy, " hit bustid 'im, bustid
'im wide open, dat des wut hit do."
" Oh ! oh ! how did that happen ? "
" 'Way back yondeh in de ole times, Pelican, he wuz ez gay
ez er flea in de cawn-shucks, but de folks in de lake dat wuz
neighbehs unter 'im, dey wuzzent gay none, kase w'y, he des
et um mos' all up an' de res', dey wuz spectin' ter go dataway
mos' enny time. Po' t'ings ! Dem frogs an' fishes wuz
'stractid out an' out, an dey don't 'tall know wut in de wide
worl' ter do. At de las', dough, dey wuz one big ole buffler
(buffalo) fish dat say he 'low he go ax de mud-hens an' git um
ter ax dey granny dat wuz de big witch unneat' de lake. De
turr fish 'gree unter dat, an' he go ax de mud-hens wut all de
folks in de lake gwine ter do an' won't dey ax dey granny.
u ' Sholy,' say dey, * kase we 'spise Ole Pelican a-stannin'
roun' on one laig an' a-blinkin' in de sun an' a-ketchin' up all
de crittehs, an' ef he don' swaller um right off a-puttin' um in
dat big yaller bag unneat' he bill.
" Oh ! dey tork servigrous (fiercely) an' dey go off an' dey ax
dey granny ter he'p an' den dey come back unter Buffler wid er
HI teenty fish des a-shinin' lak watteh in de sun, an' dey say
" ( Granny gun dat unter us, an' she say yo' mus' swaller um/
" Buffler, he swaller um, an' den de minnit dat lil fish down
Buffler, he grow turr'ble an' look mighty good. He swim up
ter Pelican an' Pelican, he gulf 'im down quick. Whooh !
Buffler, he grow an' he grow an' he grow twell he bust Pelican
wide open. Den he go home an tell all de frogs an' de fish an'
de tadpoles, an' den, big ez he am, he tuhn mighty sick. He
git so sick he frow up, he frow up dat lil w'ite, shiny fish. Den
he feel betteh, but he swink up twell he des de size he wuz 'fo*
he et um, an' dat de way he stay."
" What became of the little white fish ? " asked the child.
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 301
" He dove down ter whah de witch wuz, an' dat all I know
" Dat na all 'bout Buffler," said Big Angy. " Dey wuz er
man come fum T'undeh-Lan', kase Pelican got kinfolks dar,
an' he shoot t'ree arreh, one in de sky, hit snow ; one in de
groun', hit freeze ; one in de lake, hit go dat cole an' solide dat
all de fish die Buffler mungs um."
" Troof dat," said Aunt Em'ly, placidly, an' de lake bin
solid ice yit, mebbe, ef Ole Rabbit ain't cross um gittin' home
fum er pathy an' he drap he luck-ball dar an' de lake melt dat
quick dat Ole Chuffy wuz nigh a-gittin' drowndid."
" That's all horrid," pouted the child, " why don't you tell
a bird story ? "
" Ain't Pelican no buhd ? " inquired Aunt Mymee.
" He isn't a nice one like woodpecker, or even Blue Jay."
" Troof," grunted Big Angy, pleased with the commendation
of her favourite. " Me tell de nice tale un 'im now."
WOODPECKER AND THE YOUNG MAN.
One time there was a young man named Young Moon going
along a trail through the woods. He went along thinking of
what the old men told him and troubling nothing. At last he
was roused by a cry of distress, and something fell at his feet.
It was a very young woodpecker. He took it in his hands, and
as he did so he saw a great black snake gliding down the tree
from which the bird fell. He dropped the bird, seized his bow
and a keen little arrow, and shot the snake in the neck, pinning
it to the tree. Almost instantly, however, the terrible thing
pulled loose, and flung itself at the youth, darting fire from its
tongue and hissing horribly. Nothing daunted, he fought it
fiercely, using knife or hatchet as he could. They fought a
long time, and the young man was almost killed by the poison
spit into the air and the burning breath of the serpent.
Finally, he gave a last despairing thrust, and it rolled over
OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO
dead. For a long time he could not move. When he could
he was in haste to get away, but the pitiful voice of a child
stopped him. He looked all around. Finally, he saw a little
red baby sitting among the leaves where he had dropped the
" Do not leave me until my father comes," entreated the
The young man was frightened. He saw that he was with
a child of the sorcerers, and knew not what to do. The child
HE SHOT THE SNAKE.
smiled to reassure him, and asked to be set on the trunk of the
tree. The young man lifted him, but before he could place
him on the tree a terrible voice said
" What are you doing to my child ? ''
The young man had not a word to say, but the child
" He saved me from the great snake, your enemy. Being
a man, not a sorcerer, he could kill it. Here it lies, dead."
At this there came through the undergrowth a little red
AND OTHER SORCERERS. 303
man dressed in a fine bonnet of eagles' feathers stained red, and
an embroidered black blanket. He looked pleasantly on the
young man as he strode up to him and took the child from his
hands. He said no word, but ran with the child up the tree.
When he was just disappearing into an opening high up on the
trunk, he turned and flung down a black feather marked with
white and twisted like a ringlet.
" Keep this always," he said, " and it will do you more good
than you have done me."
At once he went out of sight.
After waiting a long time to see if he would reappear, the
youth went home.
From that time he prospered exceedingly. All the girls
loved him, all his enemies feared him, he had the greatest
number of horses, he killed the most game, he had the
strongest children. He thought he owed it all to the feather,
and was careful of it. When he grew old he became vain, and
changed his mind. He had the feather loosely twisted in his
hair one day, and a sudden gust of wind blew it away. That
night enemies burned the village, carried off his horses, wives,
and children, killed his friends. He escaped in the darkness,
but what of that ? Better be killed with your friends than be
eaten up by wolves.
Tow Head almost groaned. " I want to hear a story that
will make me laugh," she complained.
" Is I tell yo' 'bout Ole Jay Buhd's brack bahs (bars) on he
blue coat ? " asked Aunt Mary.
That sounded promising. The child encouraged Aunt Mary
to tell all she knew about the black bars on the blue coat.
** One dem times w'en Ole Jay, he wuz a-gittin' in lub an'
a-gittin' de big laugh on 'im foh he trouble, he go fall in lub
wid er gal-buhd dat wuz ez sweet ez 'lasses todes Bluebuhd.
I done fegit de name o' dat gal-buhd," said Aunt Mary, with
the anxious look of a historian resolved on perfect accuracy.
304 OLD RABBIT, THE VOODOO,
" Hit mought a-bin Yellah-Hammeh, ur Sparrer, ur Buntin', ur
Pea-Buhd, ur mos' enny name, kase Bluebuhd, he er mighty
fayvorite wid um all."
" Never mind ! I don't care for her name. What did Jay
do ? " said Tow Head, impatiently.
" He tuck hisse'f off ter de Ole Boy, dat wut he done, de
nex' Friday, an' w'en he git thu a-flingin' down de san', he up
an' ax, he do, ef he ain't done nuff ter 'zarve some pay. De
Ole Boy bin feelin' peart dat day an' he sorter grin an he
" ( I reck'n I done treat yo' well, but den I kin treat yo r
betteh. Wut yo' arter now, enny ways ? '
" Den Ole Jay, he ups an' sez, he do
" ' I wanter blue coat des lak Bluebuhd's.'
" Ole Boy, he study some, den he gin 'im de blue coat. Oft
go Jay des a-prancin'.
" Nex' week he come back.
" * De gal ain't set none by dat coat,' said he. * Gimme er
" Ole Boy gin 'im er top-knot. Off go Jay des a-prancin'