As the result
of a very curious train of
circumstances, Uncle Remus was brought up
before Recorder Andy Calhoun the other day.
He was triumphantly vindicated, but the cir
cumstances that led to his arrest as well as
his vindication may be of some interest to the
reader. It seems that Uncle Remus's " Miss
Sally," after counting the clothes brought in
by the washerwoman recently, discovered that
one of her husband's night-shirts was missing.
It happened to be one which she had made
herself, and she immediately ealled Uncle Re
mus up and told him to go after the missing
garment, after describing it with great par
ticularity. The old man was perfectly willing
to go after the shirt, but two circumstances
put him out of humor. The day was Friday.
This fact was ominous enough of itself, but
the omen was made portentous by the addi
tional fact that Uncle Remus was compelled to
turn back, after he had gone a little way, to
inquire whether a red or a blue silk vine ran
around the collar of the shirt. This was irritat
ing, and when the old man got fairly started,
he was mad. When he reached the washer
woman's house she was out, and he was com
pelled to wait some little time for her re
turn. When she did come, Uncle Remus was
thoroughly worked up, and his anger was in
tensified a thousandfold by the loud imper-
tinence of the woman, whose piercing treble
voice was the delight of the religious congre
gation of which she was the leading spirit, and
the terror of those against whom it was used
as a weapon.
"Whar Mars John night-gown?" exclaimed
Uncle Remus savagely, as the woman came up.
"Whose Mars John? I let you know here's
what ain't got no Mars John. Not dis week."
She held her head high in the air, and her
loud tone was irritating.
"Well, den, ef you ain't got no Mars John,"
said Uncle Remus, "you ain't got no bizness
wid Mars John night-gown; en you des might
ez well go in dar en git it out'n yo' chist, whar
you got it hid away."
"You all hear what he sayin'?" said the
woman to two or three negroes who were
lounging around.
"Git dat night-gown!" was Uncle Remus's
imperative demand.
"Who ever hear talk er men folks w'arin'
night-gowns?" the woman exclaimed con
temptuously.
"Git dat night-gown, you triflin' huzzy,
yelse I'll have you brung up."
"Who up ? Have who brung up, you nasty,
low life ole vilyun!"
All this and much more, until presently a
policeman came along and arrested the woman
on a charge of disorderly conduct. Perhaps
he ought to have arrested Uncle Remus on
the same charge, but the old man, with an eye
to precisely such a contingency, made no great
display of his voice. He was very mad, but
he didn't yell as the woman did.
At any rate the policeman didn't arrest
him, and the woman had no sooner reached
the station-house than she preferred a charge
of "probusness" (as she called it) against him,
and an officer was sent after him.
Both the distinguished persons found
friends to answer for their prompt appearance
at Recorder Calhoun's court. The woman's
society brethren came to her aid in the matter,
and Uncle Remus's Miss Sally sent this mes
sage over the telephone: -
"John, that miserable old reprobate has
been arrested by a policeman.... No, I tell
you I'm not joking.... I wish you would
go down and get him out.... Ten dollars!
... Well, what 's the use of being a lawyer
if you can't get him out without paying ten
dollars? Well, it won't do for the old wretch
to stay in that station-house all night this kind
of weather.... Can't you go now? ...
Well, I wish you would.... Come home
soon."
The next morning both parties were on
hand when court opened. The friends of the
woman had employed a young lawyer to de
fend her, and he, with an eye to humorous
results, pushed the case against Uncle Remus.
In the case against the woman, the testimony
of the policeman who arrested her was suffi
cient, and a small fine was imposed upon her
which was promptly paid, after which she and
her friends remained in the court-room to en
joy the discomfiture of Uncle Remus.
The young lawyer rose and said that as the
case against the old man was a serious one he
would beg the court to indulge him in a few
opening remarks. He proposed to prove, he
said, that the language employed by the pri
soner (giving solemn emphasis to the word
"prisoner") against his client was not only
opprobrious, but libelous. The prisoner had
in effect charged an honest woman with theft.
The charge was not made openly, but by in
direction; but in a case of this kind, what was
indirection but insinuation? What was in
sinuation but slander? What was slander but
libel? For his part, he was glad that the case
was not to be tried before a jury, for the pri
soner was old, and the verdict of a jury, which
would be nothing less than a term of years in
the penitentiary, might bear too heavily upon
him. The young lawyer went on in this
strain for three or four minutes, and finally
announced that if the prisoner had no counsel
he would proceed to call his first witness -
the woman who had been so outrageously
slandered. Before the witness could be called,
however, Uncle Remus spoke up.
"Mars Andy Calhoun," he said, "you bin
knowin' me a mighty long time, en I bin
knowin' you; but ef dish yer de way de matter
stand den I 'm gwineter make admittance un
it, 'fo' hit gits wuss. I aint gwineter sacs I
didn't exzuse dat 'oman er takin' Mars John
night-gown, kaze I did; but yit, 'fo' I go ter
de chain-gang, I wish you be so good ez ter
sen' er p'leeceman out dar ter dat 'oman house
en make 'im git dat night-gown, kaze Miss
Sally done sot 'er heart on dat gyarment, en
ef she don't git it back, I never is ter year de
las' un it. I thank you might'ly ef you do
dat, Mars Andy. De way de p'leeceman kin tell
it is by er blue silk muscadime vine, w'ich de
line she run up'n down in front en 'roun' de
collar, en all 'roun' de rizbuns."
It is perhaps neeAless to remark here that
when the young lawyer proceeded to call his
witness she was gone. She was gone, and she
failed to return. The prospect of s domi
ciliary visit from a policeman was a little too
much for her. The case against Uncle Remus
was dismissed, and when the old man got
home he found that the brilliantly embroid
ered night-shirt had been returned. His Miss
Sally gave him a severe lecture, but his only
response was: -
"You better lem me hang Mars John
night-gown out in de sun, kaze a nigger
'oman w'at'll steal dat kind er doin's ain't
none too good fer ter have de small-pox hid
some'rs 'roun."