UNCLE REMUS'S
Miss Sally determined that
the old man should not be slighted on Valen
tine's day, and so she hunted around and got
a comic one that seemed to fit the case, and
put in it a large envelope. Upon this she
pasted a number of old postage stamps, and
duly addressed it. When the day arrived,
she had Uncle Remus called from his work in
the garden. He came grumbling.
"When yuther folks 'roun' yer git ter eat
in' der sallid en' truck, Mars John nee'nter
come axin' me w'at gone wid our'n. Kaze
gyarden truck ain't gwineter grow less'n hit's
planted, en she can't be planted less'n dey 's
some un ter put 'er in de groun'. I ain't mo'n
got my back fit ter de mattock twel yer dey
come a-hollerin' en a-bawlin'. Hit's Remus
dis en Remus dat, en 'fo' de year out hit'll
be Remus kill de ole black cat."
"What has the cat done, now?" asked his
Miss Sally, who had heard only a part of the
old man's growl.
"Nothin' 'tall, Miss Sally; she ain't done
nothin' 'tall ter me," said Uncle Remus, in
another tone altogether. "Is you want me,
Miss Sally ? Dat slick-head house gal squeal
so w'en she holler dat I can't tell w'at she
say."
"Yes; here is a big letter for you. I expect
it is a valentine."
Uncle Remus adjusted his spectacles, took
the letter, and examined it carefully on both
sides, and then looked curiously at the super
scription.
"How do she run, Miss Sally?" indicating
the address with his forefinger.
The lady read: "Remus Misery, Esq.,
West End, Atlanta, Georgia: At Home."
"Ah-yi!" exclaimed the old man, his eyes
twinkling humorously. "Dey des know'd I
wuz one er de at-home niggers - dey did
dat. Is dey got de 'squire on dar sho nuff,
Miss Sally ? Some folks calls Mars John kun
nul, en some calls 'im major, en some calls 'im
jedge; but dish yer 'squire business is bran
new ter me. W'at 'uz de yuther name, Miss
Sally?"
"Remus Misery."
"How de name er goodness does dey fine
folks out dat away? De man w'at writ dat
know me by heart. Let 'lone dat, I 'm ole
mizerbul Miz'ry."
Still holding the letter, Uncle Remus felt
of it carefully, pressing every part of it be
tween his thumb and forefinger.
"What are you feeling of it for?" ex
claimed his Miss Sally. "Why don't you open
it?"
"I'm too ole for dat, Miss Sally," said
Uncle Remus. "Ef I feels any little bunch
er sumpin' n'er in yer, den I'll know some er
deze yer yuther niggers bin fixin' up der cun
jerments at me, en I'll des take'n take it
'roun' yan en bury it whar Mars John p'inter
made his bed las' night, en dat'll ondo it."
"Well, undoubtedly, you are the craziest
old loon in the country."
"Yessum. But you know'd dat nigger
man w'at Ole Miss got fum Mars Bill Little
endurin' er de war, kaze he could tan hides
en make shoes? Well, dat ve'y nigger man
ain't bin on our place mo 'n a week, 'fo' he
fine a little bunch er sump'n layin' on de top
do'-step. He pick 'er up, he did, en open 'er,
en dey wan't nothin' in dar but some ha'r, en
some frog toes, en some dry roots. He take'n
fling it down, he did, en go 'long 'bout his
business, en dat night he 'uz tuck wid a misery
in de side er de head, en hiz jaw got draw'd
down, en look lak die he would spite er all
dey kin say and do. Hit went on dis away
twel bimeby ole Affikin Jack, he tuck'n come
up fum de Albenny place, en time he lay
eyes on de nigger, Brer Jack low he 'uz cun
jud, en den hit come out dat de nigger done
gone en foun' sump'n on de do'-step. Brer
Jack ax 'im wharbouts is it, en de nigger 'low
he dunno; en den Brer Jack 'low he boun'
'tain't so mighty fur, en lo en beholes! he
tuck'n pull de cunjerments fum und' de nigger
bed tick. Dat he did, kaze I seed 'im wid my
own eyes. En den Brer Jack tuck'n bury it,
he did, out whar de dogs make der bed, en he
rub de nigger head wid a rabbit foot; en
't wan't two hours 'fo' dat nigger wuz wadin'
roun' in de tan vats ten'in' ter he business.
Dey ain't no hear-tell 'bout dis, Miss Sally,
kaze I seed it wid my own eyes.
"I wish you please, ma'am, open it," con
tinued Uncle Remus, "en read w'at de intents
un it mought be, kaze I oughter be out yan
right now, puttin' dem sallid seed in de
groun'."
"Miss Sally" opened the envelope, and
drew forth a highly colored cartoon of a negro
cramming a huge pie in his mouth. She
read: -
"Is dish year wa't folks calls a volyumtine,
Miss Sally?" he asked presently.
"Of course it is."
"Well, den, I'm done. I can't stay 'roun'
yer. My time's done up. I'm a-bleedz ter
go. I know dey ain't no nigger man w'at 'ud
dast ter sen' me dis, en if it's a nigger 'oman,
den I ain't got no time ter tarry in de state er
Georgy. You all bin treatin' me mighty well,
you en Mars John, but w'en dey comes at me
dis away, I bleedz ter go."
"Why? What is the matter?"
"No'm; I ain't ezcusin' you all; I ain't
excusin' nobody un it. Hit des happen so.
Yit I got ter move. I is dat. Fus' news you
know, word'll go 'roun' ter my ole 'oman dat
I been kyarin on wid some yuther 'oman. She
look lak she mighty feebly, my ole 'oman do,
but dey ain't no mo' actier creetur dan w'at she
is w'en she git 'er Affikin up. En den bime
by yer'll come Brer John Henry, en he'll
gimme er invite fer ter draw out er de church.
Oh, no'm ! Man w'at gits volyuntines, dat
man ain't ter have no peace er min' less'n he
git out er de country. I done got de 'speunce
un it, mon."
It is unnecessary to remark that the old man
is still digging around in his Miss Sally's
garden and quarreling with the other negroes.
Nigger, big nigger, with a mouthful of pie."
Uncle Remus took the caricature and ex
amined it critically. Contrary to expectations,
he did not make any demonstration of anger.
He frowned heavily for a moment, and then
sighed.