Uncle Remus His Songs and His Sayings
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Joel Chandler Harris >> Uncle Remus His Songs and His Sayings
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12 PREFACE AND DEDICATION
TO THE NEW EDITION
To Arthur Barbette Frost:
DEAR FROST:
I am expected to supply a preface for this new edition of my first
book-to advance from behind the curtain, as it were, and make a
fresh bow to the public that has dealt with Uncle Remus in so
gentle and generous a fashion. For this event the lights are to be
rekindled, and I am expected to respond in some formal way to an
encore that marks the fifteenth anniversary of the book. There
have been other editions-how many I do not remember-but this is
to be an entirely new one, except as to the matter: new type, new
pictures, and new binding.
But, as frequently happens on such occasions, I am at a loss for a
word. I seem to see before me the smiling faces of thousands of
children-some young and fresh, and some wearing the friendly
marks of age, but all children at heart-and not an unfriendly face
among them. And out of the confusion, and while I am trying hard
to speak the right word, I seem to hear a voice lifted above the rest,
saying "You have made some of us happy." And so I feel my heart
fluttering and my lips trembling, and I have to how silently and
him away, and hurry back into the obscurity that fits me best.
Phantoms! Children of dreams! True, my dear Frost; but if you
could see the thousands of letters that have come to me from far
and near, and all fresh from the hearts and hands of children, and
from men and women who have not forgotten how to be children,
you would not wonder at the dream. And such a dream can do no
harm. Insubstantial though it may be, I would not at this hour
exchange it for all the fame won by my mightier brethren of the
pen-whom I most humbly salute.
Measured by the material developments that have compressed
years of experience into the space of a day, thus increasing the
possibilities of life, if not its beauty, fifteen years constitute the old
age of a book. Such a survival might almost be said to be due to a
tiny sluice of green sap under the gray bark. where it lies in the
matter of this book, or what its source if, indeed, it be really
there-is more of a mystery to my middle age than it was to my
prime.
But it would be no mystery at all if this new edition were to be
more popular than the old one. Do you know why? Because you
have taken it under your hand and made it yours. Because you have
breathed the breath of life into these amiable brethern of wood and
field. Because, by a stroke here and a touch there, you have
conveyed into their quaint antics the illumination of your own
inimitable humor, which is as true to our sun and soil as it is to the
spirit and essence of the matter set forth.
The book was mine, but now you have made it yours, both sap and
pith. Take it, therefore, my dear Frost, and believe me, faithfully
yours,
Joel Chandler Harris
INTRODUCTION
I am advised by my publishers that this book is to be included in
their catalogue of humorous publications, and this friendly
warning gives me an opportunity to say that however humorous it
may be in effect, its intention is perfectly serious; and, even if it
were otherwise, it seems to me that a volume written wholly in
dialect must have its solemn, not to say melancholy, features. With
respect to the Folk-Lore scenes, my purpose has been to preserve
the legends themselves in their original simplicity, and to wed
them permanently to the quaint dialect-if, indeed, it can be called a
dialect-through the medium of which they have become a part of
the domestic history of every Southern family; and I have
endeavored to give to the whole a genuine flavor of the old
plantation.
Each legend has its variants, but in every instance I have retained
that particular version which seemed to me to be the most
characteristic, and have given it without embellishment and
without exaggeration.
The dialect, it will be observed, is wholly different from that of the
Hon. Pompey Smash and his literary descendants, and different
also from the intolerable misrepresentations of the minstrel stage,
but it is at least phonetically genuine. Nevertheless, if the language
of Uncle Remus fails to give vivid hints of the really poetic
imagination of the negro; if it fails to embody the quaint and
homely humor which was his most prominent characteristic; if it
does not suggest a certain picturesque sensitiveness-a curious
exaltation of mind and temperament not to be defined by words
-then I have reproduced the form of the dialect merely, and not the
essence, and my attempt may be accounted a failure. At any rate, I
trust I have been successful in presenting what must be, at least to
a large portion of American readers, a new and by no means
unattractive phase of negro character-a phase which may be
considered a curiously sympathetic supplement to Mrs. Stowe's
wonderful defense of slavery as it existed in the South. Mrs.
Stowe, let me hasten to say, attacked the possibilities of slavery
with all the eloquence of genius; but the same genius painted the
portrait of the Southern slave-owner, and defended him.
A number of the plantation legends originally appeared in the
columns of a daily newspaper-The Atlanta Constitution and in that
shape they attracted the attention of various gentlemen who were
kind enough to suggest that they would prove to be valuable
contributions to myth-literature. It is but fair to say that
ethnological considerations formed no part of the undertaking
which has resulted in the publication of this volume. Professor J.
W. Powell, of the Smithsonian Institution, who is engaged in an
investigation of the mythology of the North American Indians,
informs me that some of Uncle Remus's stories appear in a number
of different languages, and in various modified forms, among the
Indians; and he is of the opinion that they are borrowed by the
negroes from the red-men. But this, to say the least, is extremely
doubtful, since another investigator (Mr. Herbert H. Smith, author
of Brazil and the Amazons) has met with some of these stories
among tribes of South American Indians, and one in particular he
has traced to India, and as far east as Siam. Mr. Smith has been
kind enough to send me the proof-sheets of his chapter on The
Myths and Folk-Lore of the Amazonian Indians, in which he
reproduces some of the stories which he gathered while exploring
the Amazons.
In the first of his series, a tortoise falls from a tree upon the head
of a jaguar and kills him; in one of Uncle Remus's stories, the
terrapin falls from a shelf in Miss Meadows's house and stuns the
fox, so that the latter fails to catch the rabbit. In the next, a jaguar
catches a tortoise by the hind-leg as he is disappearing in his hole;
but the tortoise convinces him he is holding a root, and so escapes;
Uncle Remus tells how the fox endeavored to drown the terrapin,
but turned him loose because the terrapin declared his tail to be
only a stump-root. Mr. Smith also gives the story of how the
tortoise outran the deer, which is identical as to incident with
Uncle Remus's story of how Brer Tarrypin outran Brer Rabbit.
Then there is the story of how the tortoise pretended that he was
stronger than the tapir. He tells the latter he can drag him into the
sea, but the tapir retorts that he will pull the tortoise into the forest
and kill him besides. The tortoise thereupon gets a vine-stem, ties
one end around the body of the tapir, and goes to the sea, where he
ties the other end to the tail of a whale. He then goes into the
wood, midway between them both, and gives the vine a shake as a
signal for the pulling to begin. The struggle between the whale and
tapir goes on until each thinks the tortoise is the strongest of
animals. Compare this with the story of the terrapin's contest with
the bear, in which Miss Meadows's bed-cord is used instead of a
vine-stem. One of the most characteristic of Uncle Remus's stories
is that in which the rabbit proves to Miss Meadows and the girls
that the fox is his riding-horse. This is almost identical with a story
quoted by Mr. Smith, where the jaguar is about to marry the deer's
daughter. The cotia-a species of rodent-is also in love with her,
and he tells the deer that he can make a riding-horse of the jaguar.
"Well," says the deer, "if you can make the jaguar carry you, you
shall have my daughter." Thereupon the story proceeds pretty
much as Uncle Remus tells it of the fox and rabbit. The cotia
finally jumps from the jaguar and takes refuge in a hole, where an
owl is set to watch him, but he flings sand in the owl's eyes and
escapes. In another story given by Mr. Smith, the cotia is very
thirsty, and, seeing a man coming with a jar on his head, lies down
in the road in front of him, and repeats this until the man puts
down his jar to go back after all the dead cotias he has seen. This
is almost identical with Uncle Remus's story of how the rabbit
robbed the fox of his game. In a story from Upper Egypt, a fox lies
down in the road in front of a man who is carrying fowls to
market, and finally succeeds in securing them.
This similarity extends to almost every story quoted by Mr. Smith,
and some are so nearly identical as to point unmistakably to a
common origin; but when and where? when did the negro or the
North American Indian ever come in contact with the tribes of
South America? Upon this point the author of Brazil and the
Amazons, who is engaged in making a critical and comparative
study of these myth-stories, writes:
"I am not prepared to form a theory about these stories. There can
be no doubt that some of them, found among the negroes and the
Indians, had a common origin. The most natural solution would be
to suppose that they originated in Africa, and were carried to South
America by the negro slaves. They are certainly found among the
Red Negroes; but, unfortunately for the African theory, it is
equally certain that they are told by savage Indians of the Amazons
Valley, away up on the Tapajos, Red Negro, and Tapura. These
Indians hardly ever see a negro, and their languages are very
distinct from the broken Portuguese spoken by the slaves. The
form of the stories, as recounted in the Tupi and Mundurucu'
languages, seems to show that they were originally formed in those
languages or have long been adopted in them.
is interesting to find a story from Upper Egypt (that of the fox who
pretended to be dead) identical with an Amazonian story, and
strongly resembling one found by you among the negroes.
Vambagen, the Brazilian historian (now Visconde de Rio Branco),
tried to prove a relationship between the ancient Egyptians, or
other Turanian stock, and the Tupi Indians. His theory rested on
rather a slender basis, yet it must be confessed that he had one or
two strong points. Do the resemblances between old and New
World stories point to a similar conclusion? It would be hard to
say with the material that we now have.
"One thing is certain. The animal stories told by the negroes in our
Southern States and in Brazil were brought by them from Africa.
Whether they originated there, or with the Arabs, or Egyptians, or
with yet more ancient nations, must still be an open question.
Whether the Indians got them from the negroes or from some
earlier source is equally uncertain. We have seen enough to know
that a very interesting line of investigation has been opened."
Professor Hartt, in his Amazonian Tortoise Myths, quotes a story
from the Riverside Magazine of November, 1868, which will be
recognized as a variant of one given by Uncle Remus. I venture to
append it here, with some necessary verbal and phonetic
alterations, in order to give the reader an idea of the difference
between the dialect of the cofton plantations, as used by Uncle
Remus, and the lingo in vogue on the rice plantations and Sea
Islands of the South Atlantic States:
"One time B'er Deer an' B'er Cooter (Terrapin) was courtin', and de
lady did bin lub B'er Deer mo' so dan B'er Cooter. She did bin lub
B'er Cooter, but she lub B'er Deer de morest. So de noung lady say
to B'er Deer and B'er Cooter bofe dat dey mus' hab a ten-mile race,
an de one dat beats, she will go marry him.
"So B'er Cooter say to B'er Deer: 'You has got mo longer legs dan I
has, but I will run you. You run ten mile on land, and I will run ten
mile on de water!'
"So B'er Cooter went an' git nine er his fam'ly, an' put one at ebery
mile-pos', and he hisse'f, what was to run wid B'er Deer, he was
right in front of de young lady's do', in de broom-grass.
"Dat mornin' at nine o'clock, B'er Deer he did met B'er Cooter at de
fus mile-pos', wey dey was to start fum. So he call: "Well, B'er
Cooter, is you ready? Co long!' As he git on to de nex' mile-pos', he
say: 'B'er Cooter!' B'er Cooter say: 'Hullo!' B'er Deer say: 'You
dere?' B'er Cooter say: 'Yes, B'er Deer, I dere too.'
"Nex' mile-pos' he jump, B'er Deer say: 'Hullo, B'er Cooter!' B'er
Cooter say: 'Hullo, B'er Deer! you dere too?' B'er Deer say: 'Ki! it
look like you gwine fer tie me; it look like we gwine fer de gal tie!'
"W'en he git to de nine-mile pos' he tought he git dere fus, 'cause
he mek two jump; so he holler: 'B'er Cooter!' B'er Cooter answer:
'You dere too?' B'er Deer say: 'It look like you gwine tie me.' B'er
Cooter say: 'Go long, B'er Deer. I git dere in due season time,'
which he does, and wins de race."
The story of the Rabbit and the Fox, as told by the Southern
negroes, is artistically dramatic in this: it progresses in an orderly
way from a beginning to a well-defined conclusion, and is full of
striking episodes that suggest the culmination. It seems to me to be
to a certain extent allegorical, albeit such an interpretation may be
unreasonable. At least it is a fable thoroughly characteristic of the
negro; and it needs no scientific investigation to show why he
selects as his hero the weakest and most harmless of all animals,
and brings him out victorious in contests with the bear, the wolf,
and the fox. It is not virtue that triumphs, but helplessness; it is not
malice, but mischievousness. It would be presumptious in me to
offer an opinion as to the origin of these curious myth-stories; but)
if ethnologists should discover that they did not originate with the
African, the proof to that effect should be accompanied with a
good deal of persuasive eloquence.
Curiously enough, I have found few negroes who will
acknowledge to a stranger that they know anything of these
legends; and yet to relate one of the stories is the surest road to
their confidence and esteem. In this way, and in this way only, I
have been enabled to collect and verify the folklore included in
this volume. There is an anecdote about the Irishman and the
rabbit which a number of negroes have told to me with great
unction, and which is both funny and characteristic, though I will
not undertake to say that it has its origin with the black's. One day
an Irishman who had heard people talking about "mares' nests"
was going along the big road-it is always the big road in
contradistinction to neighborhood paths and by-paths, called in the
vernacular "nigh-cuts"-when he came to a pumpkin-patch. The
Irishman had never seen any of this fruit before, and he at once
concluded that he had discovered a veritable mare's nest. Making
the most of his opportunity, he gathered one of the pumpkins in his
arms and went on his way. A pumpkin is an exceedingly awkward
thing to carry, and the Irishman had not gone far before he made a
misstep, and stumbled. The pumpkin fell to the ground, rolled
down the hill into a "brush-heap," and, striking against a stump,
was broken. The story continues in the dialect: "W'en de punkin
roll in de bresh-heap, out jump a rabbit; en soon's de I'shmuns see
dat, he take atter de rabbit en holler: 'Kworp, colty! kworp, colty!'
but de rabbit, he des flew." The point of this is obvious.
As to the songs, the reader is warned that it will be found difficult
to make them conform to the ordinary rules of versification, nor is
it intended that they should so conform. They are written, and are
intended to be read, solely with reference to the regular and
invariable recurrence of the caesura, as, for instance, the first
stanza of the Revival Hymn:
"Oh, whar / shill we go / w'en de great / day comes
Wid de blow / in' er de trumpits / en de bang / in' er de
drums /
How man / y po' sin / ners'll be kotch'd / out late
En fine / no latch ter de gold / en gate /
In other words, the songs depend for their melody and rhythm
upon the musical quality of time, and not upon long or short,
accented or unaccented syllables. I am persuaded that this fact led
Mr. Sidney Lanier, who is thoroughly familiar with the metrical
peculiarities of negro songs, into the exhaustive investigation
which has resulted in the publication of his scholarly treatise on
The Science of English Verse.
The difference between the dialect of the legends and that of the
character-sketches, slight as it is, marks the modifications which
the speech of the negro has undergone even where education has
played in deed, save in the no part reforming it. Indeed, save in
the remote country districts, the dialect of the legends has nearly
disappeared. I am perfectly well aware that the character-sketches
are without permanent interest, but they are embodied here for the
purpose of presenting a phase of negro character wholly distinct
from that which I have endeavored to preserve in the legends. Only
in this shape, and with all the local allusions, would it be possible
to adequately represent the shrewd observations, the curious
retorts, the homely thrusts, the quaint comments, and the
humorous philosophy of the race of which Uncle Remus is the
type.
If the reader not familiar with plantation life will imagine that the
myth-stories of Uncle Remus are told night after night to a little
boy by an old negro who appears to be venerable enough to have
lived during the period which he describes-who has nothing but
pleasant memories of the discipline of slavery-and who has all the
prejudices of caste and pride of family that were the natural
results of the system; if the reader can imagine all this, he will find
little difficulty in appreciating and sympathizing with the air of
affectionate superiority which Uncle Remus assumes as he
proceeds to unfold the mysteries of plantation lore to a little child
who is the product of that practical reconstruction which has been
going on to some extent since the war in spite of the politicians
Uncle Remus describes that rcconstruction in his Story of the War,
and I may as well add here for the benefit of the curious that that
story is almost literally true.
J. C. H.
CONTENTS
LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION
I. Uncle Remus initiates tbe Little Boy
II. The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story
III.Why Mr. Possum loves Peace
IV. How Mr. Rabbit was too sharp for Mr. Fox
V. The Story of the Deluge, and how it came about
VI. Mr. Rabbit grossly deceives Mr. Fox
VII. Mr. Fox is again victimized .
VIII. Mr. Fox is "outdone" by Mr. Buzzard
IX. Miss Cow falls a Victim to Mr. Rabbit
X. Mr. Terrapin appears upon the Scene
XI. Mr. Wolf makes a Failure
XII. Mr. Fox tackles Old Man Tarrypin
XIII. The Awful Fate of Mr. Wolf
XIV. Mr. Fox and the Deceitful Frogs . .
XV. Mr. Fox goes a-hunting, but Mr. Rabbit bags the Game
Xvl. Old Mr. Rabbit, he's a Good Fisherman
XVJI. Mr. Rabbit nibbles up the Butter
XVIII. Mr. Rabbit finds his Match at last
XIX. The Fate of Mr. Jack Sparrow
XX. How Mr. Rabbit saved his Meat
XXI. Mr. Rabbit meets his Match again
XXII. A Story about the Little Rabbits
XXIII. Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Bear .
XXIV. Mr. Bear catches Old Mr. Bull-Frog
XXV. How Mr. Rabbit lost his Fine Bushy Tail
XXVI. Mr. Terrapin shows his Strength.
XXVII Why Mr. Possum has no Hair on his Tail
XXVIII. The End of Mr. Bear .
XXIX. Mr. Fox gets into Serious Business
XXX. How Mr. Rabbit succeeded in raising a Dust.
XXXI. A Plantation Witch
XXXII. "Jacky-my- Lanteern"
XXXIII. Why the Negro is Black
XXXIV.-The Sad Fate of Mr. Fox
Plantation Proverbs
His Songs
I. Revival Hymn
II.Camp-Meeting Song
III. Corn-Shucking Song
IV.The Plough-hands Song
V.Chrisnas Play-Song
VI. Plantation Play-Song
VII. Transcriptions:
1. A Plantation Chant
2. A Plantation Serenade
VIII. De Big Bethel Church
IX.-Time goes by Turns
A Story of the War
His Sayings
I. Jeems Roher'son's Last Illness
II. Uncle Remus's Church Experience
III. Uncle Remus and the Savannah Darkey
IV. Tumip Salad as a Text
V. A Confession
VI. Uncle Remus with the Toothache
VII. The Phonograph
VIII. Race Improvement
IX. In the Role of a Tartar
X. A Case of Measles
XI. The Emigrants
XII. As a Murderer
XIII.His Practical View of Things
XIV.That Deceitful Jug
XV.The Florida Watermelon
XVI. Uncle Remns preaches to a Convert
XV1I. As to Education
XVIII. A Temperance Reformer
XIX. As a Weather Prophet
XX. The Old Man's Troubles
XXI. The Fourth of July
LEGENDS OF THE OLD PLANTATION
I UNCLE REMUS INITIATES THE LITTLE BOY
One evening recently, the lady whom Uncle Remus calls "Miss
Sally" missed her little seven-year-old. Making search for him
through the house and through the yard, she heard the sound of
voices in the old man's cabin, and, looking through the window,
saw the child sitting by Uncle Remus. His head rested against the
old man's arm, and he was gazing with an expression of the most
intense interest into the rough, weather-beaten face, that beamed
so kindly upon him. This is what "Miss Sally" heard:
"Bimeby, one day, atter Brer Fox bin doin' all dat he could fer ter
ketch Brer Rabbit, en Brer Rabbit bein doin' all he could fer ter
keep 'im fum it, Brer Fox say to hisse'f dat he'd put up a game on
Brer Rabbit, en he ain't mo'n got de wuds out'n his mouf tewl Brer
Rabbit came a lopin' up de big road, lookin' des ez plump, en ez
fat, en ez sassy ez a Moggin hoss in a barley-patch.
""Hol' on dar, Brer RAbbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.
"'I ain't got time, Ber Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, sorter mendin'
his licks.
"'I wanter have some confab wid you, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox,
sezee.
"'All right, Brer Fox, but you better holler fum whar you stan'. I'm
monstus full er fleas dis mawnin',' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"'I seed Brer B'ar yistdiddy, 'sez Brer Fox, sezee, 'en he sorter rake
me over de coals kaze you en me ain't make frens en live naberly,
en I tole 'im dat I'd see you.'
"Den Brer Rabbit scratch one year wid his off hinefoot sorter
jub'usly, en den he ups en sez, sezee:
"'All a settin', Brer Fox. Spose'n you drap roun' ter-morrer en take
dinner wid me. We ain't got no great doin's at our house, but I
speck de ole 'oman en de chilluns kin sorter scarmble roun' en git
up sump'n fer ter stay yo' stummick.'
"'I'm 'gree'ble, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.
"'Den I'll 'pen' on you,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"Nex' day, Mr. Rabbit an' Miss Rabbit got up soom, 'fo' day, en
raided on a gyarden like Miss Sally's out dar, en got some
cabbiges, en some roas'n years, en some sparrer-grass, en dey fix
up a smashin' dinner. Bimeby one er de little Rabbits, playin' ou t
in de back-yard, come runnin' in hollerin', 'Oh, ma! oh, ma! I seed
Mr. Fox a comin'!' En den Brer Rabbit he tuck de chilluns by der
years en make um set down, en den him and Miss Rabbit sorter
dally roun' waitin' for Brer Fox. En dey keep on waitin' for Brer
Fox. En dey keep on waitin', but no Brer Fox ain't come. Atter
'while Brer Rabbit goes to de do', easy like, en peep out, en dar,
stickin' fum behime de cornder, wuz de tip-een' er Brer Fox tail.
Den Brer Rabbit shot de do' en sot down, en put his paws behime
his years en begin fer ter sing:
"'De place wharbouts you spill de grease,
Right dar you er boun' ter slide,
An' whar you fin' a bunch er ha'r,
You'll sholy fine de hide.'
"Nex' day, Brer Fox sont word by Mr. Mink, en skuze hisse'f kaze
he wuz too sick fer ter come, en he ax Brer Rabbit fer ter come en
take dinner wid him, en Brer Rabbit say he wuz 'gree'ble.
"Bimeby, w'en de shadders wuz at der shortes', Brer Rabbit he
sorter brush up en sa'nter down ter Brer Fox's house, en w'en he got
dar, he haer somebody groanin', en he look in de do' an dar he see
Brer Fox settin' up in a rockin'-cheer all wrop up wid flannil, en he
look mighty weak. Brer Rabbit look all roun', he did, but he ain't
see no dinner. De dish-pan wuz settin' on de table, en close by wuz
a kyarvin' knife.
"'Look like you gwintee have chicken fer dinner, Brer Fox,' sez
Brer Rabbit, sezee.
"'Yes, Brer Rabbit, deyer nice, en fresh, en tender, 'sez Brer Fox,
sezee.
"Den Brer Rabbit sorter pull hiss mustarsh, en say: 'You ain't got
no calamus root, is you, Brer Fox? I done got so now dat I can't eat
no chicken 'ceppin she's seasoned up wid calamus root.' En wid dat
Brer Rabbit lipt out er de do' and dodge 'mong the bushes, en sot
dar watchin' for Brer Fox; en he ain't watch long, nudder, kaze Brer
Fox flung off de flannil en crope out er de house en got whar he
could cloze in on Brer Rabbit, en bimeby Brer Rabbit holler out:
'Oh, Brer Fox! I'll des put yo' calamus root out yer on dish yer
stump. Better come git it while hit's fresh,' and wid dat Brer Rabbit
gallop off home. En Brer Fox ain't never kotch 'im yit, en w'at's
mo', honey, he ain't gwineter."
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