The Tar Baby and the Tomahawk: Race and Ethnic Images in American Children's Literature, 1880-1939

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DARKEY DROLLERIES.

By UNCLE REMUS

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R. BOBBY NEWCOMB'S "Big Sunflower," "The Love Letter," and a number of other popular songs and dances, in the London music halls, brought into the field many performers, none of whom achieved greater repute than Delehanty and Hengler, who had previously "clogged" themselves into public favour with Skiff and Gaylord's Minstrels. Of Billy Delehanty the following ancedote is related: While travelling with the organization above mentioned the company appeared in Troy, New York, the place of his nativity, where his father labored in a manufacturing establishment. At the noon hour the parent sought his long absent son at Rand's Hall, and had not long to wait before Billy appeared, when the following dialogue ensued:

"How are you, Willem?" "How are you, William?"

"First rate, father; how are you?"

"Hearty, me boy; but have ye been to see your mither yet?" "Hearty, my boy; but have you been to see your mother yet?"

"No," explained the young minstrel, "we have made a street parade, and just finished rehersal, which has occupied all my time this forenoon."

"It's reharsin' ye air; an' don't you know yer piece by this time so you can spake it at night widout spoutin' it all day long?" "It's rehearsing you are; and don't you know your piece by this time so you can speak it at night wighout spouting it all day long?"

"Practice makes perfect," rejoined Billy.

"An' why will ye be doin' it at all, me boy, goin' wanderin' roun' the country blackin' yerself up for a nagur, when you can stay here at Troy, and be at home wid your mither an' I?" "And why will you be doing it al all, my boy, going wandering round the country blacking yourself up for a nigger, when you can stay here at Troy and be at home with your mother and I?"

Billy was somewhat annoyed at the turn in the conversation, while the boys were enjoying his discomfiture hugely. At length he expostulated:

"That would not be profitable. As I am now doing, I am earning fifty dollars a week and have my board and travelling expenses paid. Myself and partner are conceded to be the Champions of the Profession, which is an inducement of itself to continue in the business."

The parent hesitated for a moment, and then he remonstrated, with a blarneyish tone which only a true Celt can employ:


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"And hadn't you better be quittin' now, me boy, while you have the champonion upon ye?" "And hadn't you better be quitting now, my boy, while you have the champion upon you?"

During this conversation the immortal "Coal Oil Johnny," who made himself famous by showing how big a fool one can become by having too much money, had been passing out the salaries of the various members for the past week.

"Wait a minute," said Billy, "as soon as I get my salary at the box office I will go along with you."

The "boys" had been a little inclined to "quiz" the old gentlemen, and as Billy was receipting for his week's salary, one remarked:

"Stag his nibs!" ( i.e.,twig him, look at him, examine him, etc,).

At which the senior Delehanty bounded down the stairs and out of the hall at a terrific rate of speed, followed immediately by Billy, to ascertain the cause of his abrupt departure. About three streets off, leaning against a waterplug, fanning himself with his hat and glancing warily up the street, stood the father of the minstrel, who, not allowing time for any interrogation from his son, burst forth in a torrent of honest indignation:

"An' are you, my son, the associate of a murtherin' crowd of cut-throats like that?" "And are you, my son, the associate of a murdering crowd of cut-throats like that?"

"Explain yourself," exclaimed the song-and-dancist.

"It's explaining you want? It was no more than your back was turned than one of the devils shouted, 'Stab him in the ribs!' "

HOW MR. FOX TACKLED OLD MAN TARRYPIN

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"You don't look sprucy like you did, Brother Tarrypin," (said the Fox, meeting a terrapin—or land tortoise"—on the prairie).

"I'se lounjun 'roun' en suffer'n" sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "I was lounging around and suffering says Brer Terrapin, says he.

"W'at ail you, Brer Tarrypin? Yo' eye look mighty red," sez the Fox. "What ail you, Brer Terrapin? Your eye look mightly red," says the Fox.

"Lor', Brer Fox, you dunner w'at trubble is. You ain't bin lounjun 'roun' en suffer'n," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "Lord, Brer Fox, you don't know what trouble is. You ain't been lounging around and suffering," says Brer Terrapin, says he.

"Bofe eyes red, en you look like you mighty weak, Brer Tarrypin," sez Brer Fox, sezee. "Both eyes red, and you look like you mighty weak, Brer Terrapin," says Brer Fox, says he.

"Lor', Brer Fox, you dunner w'at trubble is," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "Lord Brer Fox, you don't know what trouble is," says Brer Terrapin, says he.

"W'at ail you now, Brer Tarrypin?" sez Brer Fox, sezee. "W'hat ails you now, Brer Terrapin?" says Brer Fox, says he.

"Tuck a walk de udder day, en man come 'long en sot de fiel' a-fier. Lor', Brer Fox, you duner w'at trubble is," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "Took a walk the other day, and man come along and set the field afire. Lord, Brer Fox, you don't know what trouble is," says Brer Terrapin, says he.

"How you git out de fier, Brer Tarrypin?" sez Brer Fox, sezee. "How you get out the fire, Brer Terrapin?" says Brer Fox, says he.

"Sot en tuck it, Brer Fox," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "Sot en tuck it, en de smoke sif' in my eye, en de fier scorch my back," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee. "Set and took it, Brer Fox," says Brer Tarrypin, seeze. "Set and took it, and the smoke sift in my eye, and the fire scorch my back," says Brer Terrapin, says he.

"Likewise it bu'n yo' tail off" sez Brer Fox, sezee. "Likewise it burn your tail off" says Brer Fox, says he.

"Oh, no, dar's de tail, Brer Fox," sez Brer Tarrypin, sezee, en wid dat he venture his tail fum under de shell, an no sooner did he do dat dan Brer Fox grab it, en holler out: "Oh, no, there's the tail, Brer Fox," says Brer Terrapin, says he, and with that he venture his tail from under the shell, and no sooner did he do that than Brer Fox grab it, and holler out:

"Oh, yes, Brer Tarrypin! Oh, yes! En so youer de man w'at lam me on de head at Miss Meadow's, is you? Youer in wid Brer Rabbit, is you? Well, I'm gwine ter out you." "Oh, yes, Brer Terrapin, Oh, yes! And so you are the man what lam me on the head at Miss Meadows's, is you? You are in with Brer Rabbit, is you? Well, I'm going to out you."

Brer Tarrypin beg en beg, but 'twan't no use. Brer Fox done bin fool so much dat hel ook like he 'termin' fer ter have Brer Tarrypin's haslett. Den Brer Tarrypin Brer Terrapin beg and beg, but was no use. Brer Fox done been fool so much that he look like he determined for to have Brer Terrapin's haslett. Then Brer Terrapin


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beg Brer Fox not fer ter drown 'im, but Brer Fox ain't makin' no prommus, en den he beg Brer Fox fer ter bu'n' im, kaze he done use ter fier, but Brer Fox don't say nuthin'. Bimeby Brer Fox drag Brer Tarrypin off little ways b'low de spring-'ouse, en souze 'im under de water. Den Brer Tarrpyin begin fer ter holler: beg Brer Fox not for to drown him, but Brer Fox ain't making no promises, and then be beg Brer Fox for to burn him, cause he done use to fire, but Brer Fox don't say nothing. By and by Brer Fox drag Brer Terrapin off little ways below the spring house, and throws him under the water. Then Brer Terrapin begin for to holler:

"Tu'n loose dat stump root en ketch holt er me—tu'n loose dat stump root en ketch holt er me. " "Turn loose that stump root and catch hold of me—turn loose that stump root and catch hold of me."

Brer Fox he holler back:

"I ain't got holt er no stump root, en I is got holt er you." "I aint got hold of no stump root, and I is got hold of you."

Brer Tarrypin he keep on holler'n Brer Tarrypin he keep on hollering

"Ketch holt er me—I'm a drownin'—I'm a drownin'—tu'n loose de stump root en ketch holt er me." "Catch hold of me—I'm a drowning—I'm a drowning—turn loose the stump root and catch hold of me."

"Sho nuff, Brer Fox tu'n loose de tail, en Brer Tarrypin, he went down ter de bottom—kerblunkity-blink!" "Sure enough, Brer Fox turn loose the tail, and Brer Tarrypin, he went down to the bottom—kerblunkity-blink!"

(No typographical combination or description could do justice to the guttural sonorousness—the peculiar intonation—which Uncle Remus imparted to this combination.) It was so peculiar, indeed, that the little boy, his hearer, asked:

"How did he go to the bottom, Uncle Remus?"

Kerblunkity-blink!"

"Was he drowned, Uncle Remus?"

"Who? Ole man Terrypin? Is you drowndid w'en yo' ma tucks you in de bed?" "Who? Old man Terrapin? Is you drowned when your ma tucks you in the bed?"

"Well, no," replied the little boy, dubiously.

"Ole man Tarrypin was at home I tell you, honey. Kerblinkity-blunk!" Old man Terrapin was at home I tell you, honey. Kerblinkity-blunk!"

[For other tales of "Uncle Remus," see "Nigger Nonsense," in this library.]

A FEARFUL PENALTY

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THE Texas Coloured Invincibles drill in their hall once a week. Captain Skidmore, who has been recently elected, is determined that discipline shall be main- tained. After drill was over, he made a brief speech to the Invincibles about the necessity of their attending drill regrularly. He said:

"I wants de members ob dis command to understand, oncet for all, dat we meets for drill reglar ebery Friday ebening at 8 o'clock, in dis heah hall, and de member what fails to put in an appearance, will be—" "I want the members of this command to understand once and for all, that we meet for drill regular every Friday evening at 8 o'clock, in this here hall, and the member what fails to put in an appearance, will be—"

"Shot to deff?" interrupted Corporal Jim Webster." "Shot to death?" interrupted Corporal Jim Webster."

"Drapped from the ranks for a deserter?" asked Lieut. Sam Johnsing. "Dropped from the ranks for a deserter?" asked Lieut. Sam Johnsing.

"Wusser den dat ar," continued the captain, amid a solemn silence that was almost painful, "de member what fails to appear, will be considered as habin' been absent from the drill." "Worse than that there," continued the captain, amid a solemn silence that was almost painful, "the member what fails to appear, will be considered as having been absent from the drill."

WHY HE RETURNED THE SHOES.

OLD JOHN entered a store and drawing the proprietor aside, said:

"Colonel, yer's allers hearn it said dat dar ain't no honesty in a Arkansaw nigger, ain't yer?" "Colonel, you all heard it said that there ain't no honesty in a Arkansas nigger, ain't you?"

"I don't know about all of them, John, but I know that many of them are dishonest."


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"Yes, wall now, Colonel, ef I makes a knowledgement yer won't hab me put in jail, will yer?" "Yes, well now, Colonel, if I makes aknowledgement you won't have me put in jail, will you?"

"No, proceed."

"I has jest fessed 'ligion an' frum dis time out I'se gwine ter do what's right, but I uster be a thief, Night afore las' jest as de young man was a closin' up yer store, I come slippin' along an' stole a par ob shoes outen de window. I tuck em home, but now as I hab fessed 'ligion, I'se fotch 'em back an' heah da is." "I has just professed religion and from this time out I was going to do what's right but I used to be a thief, Night afore last just as the young man was a closing up your store, I come slipping along and stole a pair of shoes out of the window. I took them home, but now as I have professed religion, I has fetch them back and here they is."

"And you brought 'em back because you professed religion, eh?" "And you brought them back because you professed religion, eh?"

"Yes, sir, an' sides dat da's two sizes too small." "Yes, sir, and besides that they is two sizes too small."

As an old colored man and his son stopped in front of an umbrella store, the son saw some umbrellas with covers on them, and questioned his father: "What's de covers on them dar um'rellas for?" "What's the covers on them there umbrellas for?" "Why, chile, em's putober de um'rellas to keep 'em dry when it rains," was the father's response. "Why, child, them is put over the umbrellas to keep them dry when it rains," was the father's response.

"HAR-OIL" AS A DETECTIVE. "Hair-Oil" as a Detective

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GUS WHITE, a Galveston Ethiop, needed money, but did not have any. He tried to negotiate a loan of a few dollars from Disconsolate Jones, who is a barber, offering his note, but Disconsolate told him that he shaved chins and not notes. Gus went out, got a pistol, and returned.

"Disconsolate Jones, gib me two dollars, and de pistol is yours." "Disconsolate Jones, give me two dollars, and the pistol is yours."

"G'way, niggah; hit's agin de law to tote pistols." "Go away, nigger; it's against the law to tote pistols."

"But you needs a pistol when you goes home at nights to keep the robbers off."

"De man what totes a pistol am a plum coward." "The man what totes a pistol am a plum coward."

"Hit's wuff ten dollars, but yer can have it for two." "It's worth ten dollars, but you can have it for two."

"G'way, niggah!" "Go away, nigger!"

Strange to say, that very night, on his way home, Disconsolate Jones was attacked by an unknown man, who garroted, kicked and mauled him until he was certainly a very disconsolate person, and fled in the darkness without uttering a word. Next morning, before Gus was up, he was called on by Disconsolate Jones, who told him the story of his woes, and then said:

"Whar's dat pistil you wanted to sell me yesterday for two dollars?" "Where's that pistol you wanted to sell me yesterday for two dollars?"

"Hit's agin de law to tote weapons?" "It's against the law to tote weapons?"

"Nebber mind; I aint gwine to be beat to deff for two dollars." Never mind; I ain't going to be beat to death for two dollars."

"Nobody but a plum coward totes pistols, but you can hab it for four dollars." "Nobody but a plum coward totes pistols, but you can have it for four dollars."

Disconsolate paid over the money and took the pistol. As soon as he got the pistol he ex- amined it, put it in his pocket, and then, carelessly picking up a chair, he whacked Gus White at a fearful rate.


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"Dah," said the breathless Disconsolate, taking back his money; "de next time you want to sell a pistil, don't try to wrestle wid de niggah what put har-oil on your head, or you will give yourself away by the smell. I'll just keep dis yer pistil to pay me for my work and loss of time wrestling wid you in the dark last night." "There," said the breathless Disconsolate, taking back his money; "the next time you want to sell a pistol, don't try to wrestle with the nigger what put hair-oil on your head, or you will give yourself away by the smell. I'll just keep this here pistol to pay me for my work and loss of time wrestling with you in the dark last night."

ADVANTAGES OF MENTAL ARITHMETIC.

SAM Johnsing was up before the justice the other day. The justice told him that telling the whole truth about the matter would be regarded as a mitigating circumstance. Sam said he would tell the truth. "Well, then, how many chickens did you steal?" "Only five, jedge." "Only five, judge." "Are you sure, Sam, that you didn't have more? "Yes, sah; I know der was only five, coss I counted 'em. Dar was three layin' hens, four roosters and two pullets." "Yes, sir; I know there was only five cause I counted them. There was three layin' hens, four roosters and two pullets."

ON ELECTRICITY AS A CURATIVE.

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“SPEAKIN’ ob ‘lectricity,” said the Rev. Plato Johnson, “it ‘pear to me dat dere ought to be some way foun’ out so dat you need’n come into personal contact wid de current. Mr. Edison tole me it can’t go froo glass; but den a man can’t cork hisself up in a glass bottle all de time, so he needn’t be struck wid lightnin’. De fac’ is, an’ dat’s what I tole Mr. Edison, ‘lectricity in de present stage ob progress is like a wild hoss ob de praries wat has been cotched, but nobody has put de harness on him yet. Now, puttn’ de harness on is a job wat not ebberybody is willin’ to undertake. Some people is specially ‘dapted to handle it, but I don’t ‘long to dat class. I kin preach an’ show de sinner de bottomless pit till he smells the brimestone all ober de church, but when it comes to chain lightnin’ jest cotched an’ runnin’ loose widout a hulter on, well all I can say dat I’d rather be ‘scused, cos I has a large family, an’ dey needs me a little longer on de yearth. “SPEAKING of electricity” said the Rev. Plato Johnson, “it appear to me that there ought to be some way found out so that you needn’t come into personal contact with the current. Mr. Edison told me it can’t go through glass; but then a man can’t cork himself up in a glass bottle all the time, so he needn’t be struck with lightning. The fact is, and that’s what I told Mr. Edison, electricity in the present stage of progress is like a wild horse of the prairies what has been caught, but nobody has put the harness on him yet. Now, putting the harness on is a job what not everybody is willing to undertake. Some people is especially adapted to handle it, but I don’t belong to that class. I can preach and show the sinner the bottomless pit until he smells the brimstone all over the church, but when it comes to chain lightning, just caught and running loose without a halter on, well all I can say that I’d rather be accused, cause I has a large family, and they needs me a little longer on the earth.

“De odder day Mr. Edison, he says, Brudder Johnson, I show you de ‘fect ob dis current on one of de lower orders ob creation. You see dat cat yander? I says, Yes, Mr. Edison, I certainly sees a cat dere, an’ a beautiful Moltese it is, too. I went up an’ stroke dat pore cat in a ‘fectionate sort ob way, till at lass Mr. Edison say he were ready. He put a bowl ob milk down on de floor, an’ den he put one wire in de milk and leff de odder on de floor where de cat be sure to tread on it, you see? Dat Moltese ‘proached dat milk kinder slow like ‘ez though she ‘spicioned dat Mr. Edison wasn’t a man to be ‘tirely trusted. At lass, just though she came to de ‘clusion dat no mortal man could be mean ‘nuff to play a trick on a pore cat, she began to lap dat milk. You know wat happen? You ebber see such a ting as dat? Well, my sympathies was wid de cat, but I couldn’ do nothin’. De ‘speriment was in de interest ob de science ob de nineteenth century an’ I rather de cat take de does dan me. De minnit de tongue tetch dat milk about a hundred thunderbolts went rite through dat cat. I nebber was so scart for a few seconds in all my life. I heard a meyow dat sounded like a anvil chorus ob all de Moltese cats in de universe. Wid ebbery hair standin’ on end, wid her back all humped up like a camel, wid her tail es large es de brush ob a fox, dat Moltese was in de air’ way up ‘bove our heads. Wen she struck de groun’ she con’inued de “The other day Mr. Edison, he says, Brother Johnson, I show you the effect of this current on one of the lower orders of creation. You see that cat yonder? I says, Yes, Mr. Edison, I certainly sees a cat there, and a beautiful Maltese it is, too. I went up and stroke that pore cat in a affectionate sort of way, till at last Mr. Edison say he were ready. He put a bowl of milk down on the floor, and then he put one wire in the milk and left the other on the floor where the cat be sure to tread on it, you see? That Maltese approached that milk kind of slow like as though she suspected that Mr. Edison wasn’t a man to be entirely trusted. At last, just though she came to the conclusion that no mortal man could be mean enough to play a trick on a poor cat, she began to lap that milk. You know what happen? You ever see such a thing as that? Well, my sympathies was with the cat, but I couldn’t do nothing. The experiment was in the interest of science of the nineteenth century and I rather the cat take the dose than me. The minute the tongue touch that milk about a hundred thunderbolts went rite through that cat. I never was so scared for a few seconds in all my life. I heard a meow that sounded like a anvil chorus of all the Maltese cats in the universe. With every hair standing on end, with her back all humped up like a camel, with her tail as large as the brush of a fox, that Maltese was in the air way up above our heads. When she struck the ground, she continued the


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concert an broke for de door as if she had no hope ob life so long ez she stayed in dat buildin’. concert and broke for the door as if she had no hope of life so long as she stayed in that building.

“‘You see dat?’ says Mr. Edison. "You see that?" says Mr. Edison.

“Well, I says, I thought I seed somefin in de air for a minnit. I guess dat cat is convinced dat homoeopathy is de only way to take ‘lectricity. Will she ebber came back, do you think? “Well, I says, I thought I saw something in the air for a minute. I guess that cat is convinced that homoeopathy is the only way to take electricity. Will she ever came back, do you think?

“ ‘Nebber,’ says Mr. Edison, ‘nebber.” “ ‘Never,” says Mr. Edison, ‘never.”

“Den,” says I, “de man wat says dat cat ain’t a reasonable human bein’ don’ know what he’s talkin’ ‘bout! An’ ef de cat knows ‘nuff not to try dat ting a second time, do you tink I knows less that she does? I shall foller dat cat an’ let lightnin’ alone for de futur’ an’ keep my rheumatiz.” “Then,” says I, “the man what says that cat ain’t a reasonable human being don’t know what he’s talking about! And if the cat knows enough not to try that thing a second time, do you think I knows less that she does? I shall follow that cat and let lightning alone for the future and keep my rheumatism.”

WORDS AND DEEDS.

A COLORED brother rose in prayer meeting and said: “My dear bruddern, I feel’s if I could talk more good in five minutes dan I could do good in a year.” “My dear brethren, I feel’s if I could talk more good in five minutes that I could do in a year.”

BOTH STUCK TO THEIR PRINCIPLES.

A GENTLEMAN hired old Uncle Remus to remove a lot of rubbish, but the old man piled on such little loads that he managed to make an extra trip.

“Look here, uncle, if you had put decent-sized loads on your cart you could have carried all that rubbish off in one trip.”

“I knows it, boss; yer see I’se a member of de Galveston Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and it would be agin my principles to have put too heaby a load on my old hoss.” “I knows it boss; you see I is a member of the Galveston Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and it would be against my principles to have put too heavy a load on my old horse.”

The gentlemen sighed but paid over the money.

“A’n’t yer gwine to frow in a dram?” asks the old darkey, working his mouth. “Ain’t you going to throw in a dram?” asks the old darkey, working his mouth.

"I say I would like to give you a dram, but I am a member of the Galveston Blue Ribbonites, and it would be against my principles to encourage drunkenness.”

A PRETTY 'CUTE DARKEY A Pretty Acute Darkey

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JACK AGERY is as black as any negro brought direct from Africa. For native wit he is the superior of any darkey of prominence in Arkansas. Jack belonged to Col. F. A. Terry prior to the war. Though a Republican in politics, somehow Jack and his party have not got along very well together. He is a kind of independent cuss—don’t like to be driven, and revolts at the party lash. Jack is a genius. Before a hurrah crowd he is the best speaker in Arkansas, or rather he can entertain, amuse and “carry away” such a crowd as no other speaker in the State, black or white, can.

Jack don’t like the manner in which his party is run in this State.


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Yesterday he was approached by some Republican official, when the following conversation occurred:

“Jack,” said the spokesman, “why is it that you are not an active supporter of the Republican State ticket, headed by Colonel Slack?”

“I have no objection to Colonel Slack,” said Jack. “He is a good man, and I am a Republican.”

“Well, what’s the trouble? Why don’t you come square out for the Republican ticket all the way through?”

“Let me tell you a little story, ask you a few questions, and in the windup perhaps you will be enabled to understand me. You have nominated Professor Parker, a Democrat, for Superintendent of Public Instruction.”

“Oh, well, that makes our ticket that much stronger,” said the official.

“Well, now, back to my story. One Christmas Colonel Terry gave me a whole week’s holiday, to go and to do as I please—see the girls, have my fun and a good time generally. He told me I would need some money, and in order that I might have some to spree on during the week, he said if I would make him a half dozen chairs, and bottom them with some good white oak splits, he would pay me my own price for them. I immediately went to the woods, cut and split my timber, and made the chairs. A good many holes appeared in some of the splits. In order to keep them from being seen, I took some putty at the house and carefully inserted it in each hole, thus making the bottom look perfect in every respect. When finished I took them to Colonel Terry. He examined them carefully. Then he took out his knife and commenced digging around the holes which I had filled with putty (like these jewelers fill silver dollars that have holes in them with old silver). Finally he dug out the putty in a half dozen or more holes. I stood looking on. Turning to me, Colonel Terry said:‘Jack, what is this?’‘Putty,’ I responded. ‘Well’ said the colonel, ‘what is it doing here?’I promptly responded, ‘That putty is put on those splits in order to make the chairs stronger.’ ‘Indeed!’ said Colonel Terry. “Then, Jack if that’s the case, take these chairs back, and bring me some others, composed entirely of putty.’" "Now,” added Jack, “I am of the same opinion as Colonel Terry. If one Democrat on the State ticket makes it stronger, I am in favour of a ticket which is composed entirely of putty.”

THE PARSON WASN’T “WERRY PERTICKLER,” BUT UNCLE NACE WAS. The Parson Wasn't "Very Particular," But Uncle Nace Was.

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THE Rev. Whangdoodle Bazter, a colored clergyman, wished to hint to Uncle Nace, who is his near neighbor, that a gift of a cord of firewood would be very gratefully accepted. Uncle Nace, by the way, does not like Whangdoodle much. Finally, says Whangdoodle, insinuatingly,

"Uncle Nace, I'se gwine ter be powerful hard up for firewood this winter. Can't yer gimme a load?" "Uncle Nace, I is going to be powerful hard up for firewood this winter. Can't you give me a load?"

Uncle Nace looked all around as if he were afraid of being overheard, and then he said:

"Parson, is you werry partickler whar de wood comes from?" "Parson, is you very particlular where the wood comes from?"

Parson Whangdoodle supposed this to mean that Uncle Nace was going to give him some stolen wood, so he replied:

"Uncle Nace, as long as I gets de wood I don't ker much whar it comes from." "Uncle Nace, as long as I gets the wood I don't care much where it comes from."


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"Den, Parson, you don't care whose wood you burns up?" Then, Parson, you don't care whose wood you burns up?"

"Hit's all de same ter me, Uncle Nace." "It's all the same to me, Uncle Nace."

"Well, I am gwine,"said Nace. "Well, I am going,"said Nace.

"Whar is yer gwine?" "Where is you going?"

"Ter lock up my wood shed." "To lock up my wood shed."

NOT VERY HEAVY FOR HIS FIRST CHARGE.

IN a country place in North Carolina some time after the war, they elected as justice of the peace an old white-haired negro, ignorant, but honest, and well liked. His first case was a jury trial. After the pleading was over, the counsel informed his Honor that he could charge the jury.

"Charge de jury?" "Charge the jury?"

"Yes, your honour."

"Wal, gemmen ob de jury, it 'pears de case am trew, and I'se got to charge yer But considrin' dis is my fust case, I guess I'll only charge yer about two dollar an' haf' piece." "Well, gentlemen of the jury, it appears the case am true, and I is got to charge you But considering this is my first case, I guess I'll only charge you about two dollar and half apiece."

DAT YOU, SAMBO That You, Sambo

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A FEW evenings since a Harvard student, who had just returned from his summer vacation to prepare for the coming college year, thought he would surprise "his girl" by a serenade. His arrival had been unannounced, not reaching Cambridge until about nine o'clock on the eventful evening. The family to which his lady love belonged were supposed to have returned from their summer retreat some two weeks.

After due attention to refreshments, and especial care to the appointments of his toilet, he proceeded to the residence of the fair one with his light guitar and a voice duly toned and lemoned. As the clock at the city building struck the hour of twelve a clear voice came ringing forth from a clump of lilies beneath a nicely curtained chamber window, with the old and familiar words, "Home again, home again," etc.

No response.

After a brief pause there broke upon the solemn stillness, "Come into the garden, Maud," etc. Before the refrain was completed an attic window was raised, and a head as ebon as the night was thrust forth with the words


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"Bress me, dat you, Sambo, playin' on de banjo? Wait jes a minit an' I'll let ye in, for the folks no get back from de mountains till termorrer." "Bless me, that you, Sambo, playing on the banjo? Wait just a minute and I'll let you in, for the folks don't get back from the mountains till tomorrow." The freshman packed his music and fled, resolved to wait next time until he was sure "she" was at home.

DEGREES OF CONSIDERATION.

"I believe you are connected with the church in Elm Street, are you not, Mr. Dickson?" said the customer. "No, sah, not at all." "No, sir, not at all." "What! are you not a member of the African church?" "Not dis year, sah!" "Not this year, sir!" "Why did you leave their communion, Mr. Dickson, if I may be permitted to ask?" "Well, I'll tell you sah," "Well, I'll tell you sir," said Mr. Dickson, stropping a concave razor on the palm of his hand, "it was jes like dis. I jined the church in good fait'; I gave ten dollars towards the stated gospel de fus' yeah, and de church people call me 'Brudder Dickson;' second yeah, my business being not so good, I gib only five dollars. That yeah the people call me 'Mr. Dickson.' Dis razor hurt you, sah?" "it was just like this. I joined the church in good faith; I gave ten dollars towards the stated gospel the first year, and the church people called me 'Brother Dickson;" second year, my business being not so good, I gave only five dollars. That year the people call me 'Mr. Dickson.' This razor hurt you, sir?" "No, the razor goes tolerably well." Well, sah, de third year I fell berry poor; had sickness in my family; I didn't give noffin' for preachin'. Well, sah, arter dat dey call me 'dat old nigger Dickson,' and I left em!" "Well, sir, the third year I fell very poor; had sickness in my family; I didn't give nothing for preaching. Well, sir, after that they called me 'that old nigger Dickson,' and I left them!"

"TORPEDO HUNT AM NO MORE."

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There was sadness in every eye as the members of the club softly fled in and took their seats. Each one had seen the crape on the hall door, and each one had been told that Paradise Hall was in mourning for a member. "Gemlen," "Gentlemen," began the president as he rose up and looked down the hall at the vacant seat bedecked with crape, "it am my painful dooty to inform you dat Brudder Torpedo Hunt am no more on dis earth. He passed away las' night arter a lingering illness of only free weeks, from the rude contract of a flower-pot with his left brow. Torpedo was our brudder, an' an earnest worker in de cause," "it am my painful duty to inform you that Brother Torpedo Hunt am no more on this earth. He passed away last night after a lingering illness of only three weeks, from the rude contact of a flower-pot with his left brow. Torpedo was our brother, and an earnest worker in the cause," continued the president; "but if I stan heah to yulogize him, I must not forgit dat he hed his faults. If de troof can't hurt de livin' it can' harm de dead. Torpedo was a great han' to git up airly in de mawnin', an' to work hard all day, but his chill'en went bar'foot all winter, just de same. He was kind to his wife and felt bad for de poo', but he neebber played yuker widout hevin' two extra bowers up his sleeve. He didn't get drunk, but no rail fence had any bizness widin a mile of his cabin in winter. He didn't ingaige in rows an' riots, but his enemies got hit wid brickbats all de same. We saw him at church on Sunday, setting a good zample fur de young, but he'd turn in next day an' try [?]to win de big prize in a lottery. It was about haf-an-haf wid him. When we say dat of any man we hev hit him pretty clus. "but if I stand here to eulogize him, I must not forget that he had his faults. If the truth can't hurt the living it can't harm the dead. Torpedo was a great hand to get up early in the morning, and to work hard all day, but his children went barefoot all winter, just the same. He was kind to his wife and felt bad for the poor, but he never played euchre without having two extra bowers up his sleeve. He didn't get drunk, but no rail fence had any business within a mile of his cabin in winter. He didn't engage in rows and riots, but his enemies got it with brickbats all the same. We saw him at church on Sunday, setting a good example for the young, but he'd turn in the next day and try [?]to win the big prize in a lottery. It was about half-and-half with him. When we say that of any man we have hit him pretty close.


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"When we hev given de dead all de praise dey sought to gain when liven', no man's mem'ry kin ask fur more. Torpedo was up to de aiverage, an' he am gone." "When we have given the dead all the praise they sought to gain when living, no man's memory can ask for more. Torpedo was up to the average, and he am gone."

Colonel Damson Brown took the floor, and said life was short and uncertain, and it behooved every man to have his house in order. He wanted to make a confession and clear his conscience. Six years ago he poisoned a dog belonging to Esquire Smith, of Hastings Street, a neighbour of his. Both were now members of the club, and in the presence of all he would confess, ask forgiveness, and pay what the canine was worth.

Then Esquire Smith arose, his face wreathed in smiles, and he replied that he distinctly remembered the dog case, but that the Colonel didn't owe him anything. The dog hadn't been dead six hours when he killed and ate the Colonel's goat, and stole half a cord of his wood, and he thought the thing as about even.

HOW HE REMEMBERED.

Over in France, the Mann palace cars (Pullman, without the "pull"), are supplied with English-speaking servants, one of whom is a darkey. "Porter," said a passenger on the Paris-Marseilles line, as he stepped into his sleeping berth, "call me at Lyons, sure." "All right, sah." "All right, sir." Late next morning he called him. "Only twenty minutes from New-cattle, sah." "Only twenty minutes from New-cattle, sir." "New-cattle? do you mean Neufchatel? Good heavens! why didn't you call me at Lyons?" "Lyons? 'Fore goodness, dat's it! You did say Lions for suah, boss, an' I done tought ober de whole circus, an' I hope to die ef I could ketcha onto any animile dan dem new cattle! I'll remember de hull cage next time, boss." "Lyons? For goodness, that's it! You did say Lions for sure, boss, and I done thought over the whole circus, and I hope to die if I could catch onto any animal than them new cattle! I'll remember the whole cage next time, boss."

A NEWLY ACQUIRED HABIT.

"Look heah, Uncle Mose, you fooled me wid dat ar hoss I buyed from yer last week. He just drapt down dead in his tracks." "Look here, Uncle Mose, you fooled me with that there horse I bought from you last week. He just dropped down dead in his tracks." "He nebber drapt down dead in his tracks or anywhar else as long as I had him, goin' on twenty years." "He never dropped down dead in his tracks or anywhere else as long as I had him, going on twenty years."

THEY WILL WASH.

[illustration - A COLOURABLE PRETENCE.]

Bobby Newcomb, in relating his experiences in Germany, recalls the indignation of the Teutons because the minstrels were white men instead of bona fide negroes; and he was much amused when one of the feminine patrons of the entertainment presented herself at the door, in Hamburg, and demanded, in a voice pitched in a high key, and in language conspicuous for its force rather than its elegance, the return of her money, declaring that the show was a fraud and base imposition upon an innocent unsophisticated woman.


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"They are not niggers at all,"she exclaimed, gesticulating wildly, "they are nothing but white men painted up."

It required the most persuasive eloquence of a policeman to make her move on, and when she did she vowed that she would have them, one and all, brought before the mayor as imposters.

IN NEED OF A NAP.

"Why did you name that old horse Napoleon?" asked a gentleman of a negro, whose horse was almost reduced to a skeleton. "Why, marse, you see, it's case de bony part is so strong in him," "Why, master, you see, it's because the bony part is so strong in him," was the ready reply.

Old Bow-legged Jake, a colored man of high-standing and extreme blackness, entered the Registrar's office, and said:

"Boss, I wants a par ob marriage license. I'se a ole man, but I'se gwine ter marry one ob de youngest gals in dis community." "Boss, I want a pair of marriage license. I is an old man, but I is going to marry one of the youngest gals in this community."

"Have the parents of the girl any objections to the marriage?" asked the Clerk, hesitating as to whether or not the license should be issued.

"Hit doan seem so ter me," "It don't seem so to me," replied Jake.

"Did you ask the old man's consent?"

"No, sah." "No, sir."

"How do you know, then, that he does not object?"

"Well, yer see, I has been a collin' on de young lady for some time, an' las' night de ole man come in, tuck down an' ole army gun an' said dat he reckoned me an' Lindy aughter git married. Dis mournin' he come ober ter my house wid de gun an' said suthin' about my goin' at once an' gittin' de license. I tole him dat I had a wife somewhar in de country, but he cocked de ole gun an' looked so sad like, dat I struck a trot fur dis office." "Well, let's see, I has been a calling on the young lady for some time, and last night the old man came in, tuck down an old army gun and said that he reckoned me and Lindy ought to get married. This morning he come over to my house with the gun and said something about my going at once and getting the license. I told him that I had a wife somewhere in the country, but he cocked the old gun and looked so sad like, that I struck a trot for this office."

"If you have a living wife, old man, I can't issue a license."

"But, boss, dis is one ob dese he'ar stringent cases. De fodder ob de gal is standin' out at de corner ob de house wid dat army gun. It's better, boss, for a man to hab two libin' wives den it is fur a 'oman ter hab one dead husband." "But, boss, this is one of these here stringent cases. The father of the gal is standing out at the corner of the house with that army gun. It's better boss, for a man to have two living wives than it is for a woman to have one dead husband."

Finally, the old man with the gun was induced to come into the office and explain. "Well, yer see, boss," "Well, you see, boss he said, "ole Jake hab been burnin' my oil an' wearin' out de bottoms of my chairs long enough. He's been eatin' at my house mor'n a year, courtin' my gal, an' now I wants him to board de gal awhile. Ef he don't, I'll hab to injur him." "old Jake has been burning my oil and wearing out the bottoms of my chairs long enough. He's been eating at my house more than a year, courting my gal, and now I want him to board the gal a while. If he don't, I'll have to injure him." After a while, however, the old man agreed that if Jake would pay him five dollars the affair would be settled without marriage. The money was paid over, and the two men contemplate establishing a fried-fish shop.

...... "No," he said "I can't be around to meet the boys to night. You must excuse me, I have "a more pressing engagement." He was going to a waltzing party.

WASTING HIS SWEETNESS.

A candidate for minstrel honours once called on Lon Morris, the manager, and applied for the position of tenor in the quartette. He had, in common with his friends, a highly exalted opinion of his abilities. Rehearsal being in progress, Lon invited the fellow to enter the Opera House and try his voice. The ambitious youth had not sung a dozen notes before the boys saw that he could not vocalise. For orchestral accompaniment nothing would have been more fitting than to have filed a saw or teased a cat.


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[illustration - A COLLARIC AMATUER ]

"Your voice," said Lon, "is a most excellent one for the drawing-room. How it would be in the public hall I would not be able to say until I heard it in a larger room than this."

The Bones suggested that they withdraw to the street, where they could "better judge the compass of his voice." They all went out and stationed the vocalist under a lamp-post, instructing him to sing with all his power, while they went a little distance off to listen. As the boys receded gradually from the spot, they would call back to the man under the gaslight, Very good," "tip top," "first rate," etc., with the injunction, "little louder." Louder sang the man of the lamp-post, who, finishing one song, struck into another, not noticing that the minstrels had become lost to view.

"What are you doing here?" exclaimed a policeman, slapping him upon the shoulder.

"Singing," was the meek reply.

"Say, look here," said the policeman, "them nigger minstrel fellows are making a fool of you. I saw them going home in a tram-car more'n ten minutes ago. If you weren't such a fool, I'd take you in for caterwauling here, and waking people up at this hour of the night."

Bones—Why was Samson de greatest actor de world hab eber seed? 'Caze at his first and only performance he bring down de house, yah, yah! Bones—Why was Samson the greatest actor the world has ever seen? Because at his first and only performance he brought down the house, yah, yah!

CORNERING A JUDGE ON A NEW POINT OF LAW.

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"Uncle Jerry," said Justice Powers, assuming a solemn air, "you are charged with having two wives. This is a very grave charge, old man. You have been an aspirant for political honours, and now to be charged with having two wives is something that should cause you to feel a tingle of shame running through your entire system. Are you guilty, sir, or not guilty? Have you been married twice?"

"Jedge, I aint' got but one wife, if dat's what yer call pleadin'." "Judge, I ain't got but one wife, if that's what you call pleading."

"Didn't you marry Malindy Smith?"

"Yas, sah." "Yes, sir."

"And without getting a divorce, didn't you marry Lucy Hutchings, after the colored ball?"

"Yas, sah." "Yes, sir."

"Well, then, you've got two wives."

"No, I hain't. I'll 'splain. I married Miss Smith. When a boy's mother quits a husband what is de boy's fodder, an' marries annuder man, the fust man is de fodder, an' de second man is de stepfodder. So dat 'oman is my step-wife. Yer can't make nothin' e'se outen it. De fust 'oman is my wife, de second is my step-wife. Dar ain't nothin' in the new code to 'rest a man from habin' a step-wife." "No, I haven't. I'll explain. I married Miss Smith. When a boy's mother quits a husband wich is the boy's father, and marries another man, the first man is the father, and the second man is the stepfather. So that woman is my step-wife. You can't make nothing else out of it. The first woman is my wife, the second is my step-wife. There ain't nothing in thew new code to arrest a man from having a step-wife."


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"Mr. Clerk," said the judge, "I haven't had time to look through the new code. Perhaps this is a new point. You'd better adjourn the case. The court, Uncle Jerry, will reserve its decision."

LEFT HANDED ON BOTH SIDES.

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Just fifty years ago, in Philadelphia, the disciples of William Penn invariably wore the single-breasted drab or snuff-coloured coat, and were strict in their notion of having the buttons thereof on the left side of the coat aforesaid. At a dinner given by him, Friend Elias Breasey had secured a big darkey to "'tend table," to whom he gave imperative orders to hand things to the guest at the left side.

"Thee will always know by their coat buttons, Caesar, which is the left side."

Among the guests was a French gentleman who wore a double-breasted coat—a worldly garment. The darkie in handing round the soup, passed behind the gentleman, looked at his coat and stood, for a moment, an ebony statue of despair, struggling with doubt and a plate of soup.

Presently he yelled out: "Massa Lias—it's no use—buttons on boff sides," "Master Elias—it's no use—buttons on both sides," and handed the plate to the French guest over his head. "Dat's de fust time I ever seed a man dat was leff handed on boff sides!" "That's the first time I ever saw a man that was left handed on both sides!"

RISE TO A MINSTREL.

[illustration - THE TWO MANAGERS ]

Chancing to be in Brooklyn one day on business in connection with the branch house, Sandy, a negro minstrel manager, was introduced to Mr. F. B. Conway, father of the young actress wedded to Mr. Levy, of cornet fame.

After mutual inquiries in regard to business at their respective establishments, they dwelt for some time upon the many unavoidable annoyances of management.

"You must," said Mr. Conway, "meet with frequent disappointments in your peculiar line—the variety business. For instance, here is a vocalist billed to sing, and the audience expect to[?] hear her, but she is hoarse, and it is impossible."

"There don't no singers disappointment me," interrupted Sandy.

"Why, how do you get along?" asked Mr. Conway, expressing surprise.

"Well, if they tell me they won't sing, why, I just make them sing," returned Sandy.

"But how can you make an artist sing when they won't sing?" persisted Mr. Conway.

"Why, I just h'ist them with my boot!" "Why, I just hoist them with my boot!" exclaimed the minor manager.

Conway, the dignified tragedian, stood for a moment in blank amazement, and[?] then remarked:

"A remarkable method of elevating the profession, I must say."


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BRILLIANT EVIDENCE.

"Johnson, you say Snow was de man dat robbed you?"—"Yes."—"Was it moonlight when it took place?"—"No, sir."—"Was it starlight?" —"It was so dark you couldn't see your hand afore your face."—"Well, was there any light shining from any house near by?"—"Why, no, there wasn't a house within a mile of us."—"Well, then, if there was no moon, no starlight, no light from any house, and so dark you couldn't even see your hand before your face, how are you so positive that Snow as the man, and how did you see him?"— Why, Cuff, you see, when de nigger struck me de fire flew out of my eyes so bright that you could see to pick up a pin." "Why, Cuff, you see, when the nigger struck me the fire flew out of my eyes so bright that you could see to pick up a pin."

"DOAN FOOL YERSEF 'BOUT THE COW." "Don't Fool Yourself About The Cow."

"Ob all animals," "Of all animals," says Uncle Remus, "a cow can turn aroun' an' look at a man de most pityful. De cow nat'rally 'cites de sympathy ob de human family. But doan fool yersef 'bout de cow. Jes' when yer thinks dat she's grievin' ober de loss ob a frien', she lifts her foot, kicks sideways, an' comes mighty nigh splitting yer open." "a cow can turn around and look at a man the most pitifully. The cow naturally excites the sympathy of the human family. But don't fool yourself about the cow. Just when you think that she's grieving over the loss of a friend, she lifts her foot, kicks sideways, and comes mighty nigh splitting you open."

KNOCKTURNAL BORROWING.

A negro, being asked what he was in jail for, said it was for borrowing money. "But," said the questioner, "they don't put people in jail for borrowing money." "Yes," said the darkey, "but I had to knock the man down free or fo' times before he would lend it to me." "but I had to knock the man down three or four times before he would lend it to me."

HUMOROUS INCIDENT.

A certain boat, coming up the Mississippi the other day, lost her way and bumped up against a frame house. She hadn't more than touched it before an old darkey rammed his head up through a hole in the roof, where the chimney once came out, and yelled at the captain on the roof: "Whar is yer gwine wid dat boat? Can't yer see nuffin? Fust thing yer knows yer gwine to turn dis house ober, spill de old woman an' de chil'en out in de flood an' drown 'em. Wat yer doin' out here in de country wid yer ole boat anyhow? Go on back yander froo de co'n fields, an' git back into de ribber whar yer b'longs. Ain't got no business sev'n miles out in de country foolin' roun' people's houses nohow!" "Where are you going with that boat? Can't you see nothing? First thing you know you are going to turn this house over, spill the old woman and children out in the flood and drown them. What are you doing out here in the country with your old boat anyhow? Go back yonder through the corn fields, and get back into the ribber where you belong. Ain't got no business seven miles out in the country fooling around people's houses nohow!" and she backed out.

OVER THEIR HEADS.

There is no more robust of troubadors than Mr. Aynsley Cook. Originally educated for the opera, this popular vocalist lately connected himself with the music halls. One evening, while pouring out a flood of melody in something operatic, at the Royal, with his eyes turned heavenward, in fine frenzy rolling, and his hand clasped upon his heart, an unappreciative god in the gallery bellowed forth:

"Go eat frogs!—you can't speak good grammar!—just give us a 'ornpipe!" "Go eat frogs!—you can't speak good grammar!—just give us a cornpipe!"

The exalted one's feelings can be easier imagined than described. Nilsson would not be more shocked to receive a request to appear on the flying trapeze.

HE CAME DOWN.

James R. Randall, editor of the Augusta (Ga.) Chronicle attended preaching at a colored church in the country, and had in his pocket a half dollar, just the ticket fare back to Augusta. At the conclusion of his sermon the minister ordered a collection for his own benefit.

"Of course," said he, "I 'spects every pussen to give somethin'; but I'se told "I expects every person to give something; but I was told
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that Mr. Thomas up the lane yander had some turkeys stole Friday night. I don't want any man who had a han' in stealing them turkeys to put any money in de hat." that Mr. Thomas up the lane yonder had some turkeys stolen Friday night. I don't want any man who had a hand in stealing those turkeys to put any money in the hat."

When the hat reached Randall not a man had denied, and the preacher's eyes were on him. His half-dollar went into the hat.

HOW MR. RABBIT SAVED HIS MEAT.

One time (said Uncle Remus to the little son of his master, slowly and thoughtfully gazing in the fire), one time Brer Wolf wuz comin' 'long home fum a fishin' frolic. He sa'nter 'long de road, he did, wid his string er fish 'cross his shoulder, wen fus news you know, ole Miss Pa'tridge, she hop outer de bushes en flutter 'long right at Brer Wolf nose. Brer Wolf he say ter hisse'f dat ole Miss Pa'tridge tryin' fer ter toll 'im 'way fum her nes', en wid dat he lay his fish down en put out inter de bushes whar ole Miss P'tridge cum fum, en 'bout dat time Brer Rabbit, he happen 'long. Dar wuz de fishes, en dur wus Brer Rabbit, en w'en dat de case w'at you speck a sorter innerpen'ent man like Brer Rabbit gwine do? I kin tell you dis, dat dem fishes ain't stay whar Brer Wolf put um at, en w'en Brer Wolf come back dey wuz gone. one time Brer Wolf was coming along home from a fishing frolic. He saunter along the road, he did, with his string of fish across his shoulder, when first news you know, old Miss Partridge, she hop out of the bushes and fluttered along right at Brer Wolf's nose. Brer Wolf he say to himself that old Miss Partridge was trying for to tell him away from her nest, and with that he lay his fish down and put out into the bushes where old Miss Partridge came from, and about that time Brer Rabit, he happen along. There was the fish, and there was Brer Rabbit, and when that's the case what you expect a sort of independent man like Brer Rabbit going to do? I can tell you this, that them fishes didn't stay where Brer Wolf put them at, and when Brer Wolf came back they was gone.

Brer Wolf, he sot down en scratch his head, he did, en study, en study, en den hit sorter rush inter his mine dat Brer Rabbit bin 'long dar, en den Brer Wolf, he put out fer Brer Rabbit house, en w'en he git dar he hail 'im. Brer Rabbit, he dunno nuthin' 'tall 'bout no fishes, Brer Wolf he up'n say he bleedzd ter b'leeve Brer Rabbit got dem fishes. Brer Rabbit 'ny it up en down, but Brer Wolf stan' to it dat Brer Rabbit got dem fishes. Brer Rabbit, he say dat if Brer Wolf b'leeve he got de fishes, den he give Brer Wolf lief fer to kill de bes' cow he got. Brer Wolf, he tuck Brer Rabbit at his word, en go off ter de pastur' en drive up de cattle en kill Brer Rabbit bes' cow. Brer Wolf, he sat down and scratched his head, he did, and study, and study, and then it sort of rush into his mind that Brer Rabbit been along there, and then Brer Wolf, he put out for Brer Rabbit's house, and when he get there he hail him. Brer Rabbit, he don't know nothing at all about no fishes, Brer Wolf he up and said he to believe Brer Rabbit got them fishes. Brer Rabbit denied it up and down, but Brer Wolf stand to it that Brer Rabbit got them fishes. Brer Rabbit, he said that if Brer Wolf believed he got the fishes, then he give Brer Wolf leave for to kill the best cow he got. Brer Wolf, he took Brer Rabit at his word, and went off to the pasture and drove up the cattle and killed Brer Rabbit's best cow.

Brer Rabbit, he hate mighty bad fer ter lose his cow, but he lay his plans, en he tell his chilluns dat he gwineter have dat beef yet. Brer Wolf, he been tuck up by de patterrollers (the plantation watchmen on patrol) 'fo' now, en he mighty skeerd un um, en fus news you know, yer come Brer Rabbit hollerin' en tellin' Brer Wolf dat de patterrollers comin'. Brer Rabbit, he hate mighty bad for to lose his cow, but he lay his plans, and he tell his children that he going to have that beef yet. Brer Wolf, he had been taken up by the patterrollers (the plantation watchmen on patrol) before now, and he mighty scared of them, and first news you know, here come Brer Rabbit hollering and telling Brer Wolf that the patrollers comming.

"You run en hide, Brer Wolf," sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, "en I'll stay yer en take keer er de cow twel you gits back," sezee. "You run and hide, Brer Wolf," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "and I'll stay here and take care of the cow til you gets back," says he.

Soon's Brer Wolf hear talk er de patter-rollers, he scramble off inter de underbresh like he bin shot out'n a gun. En he want mo'n gone 'fo' Brer Rabbit, he whirl in en skunt de cow en salt de hide down, en den he tuck 'n cut up de kyarkiss en stow it 'way in de smoke-'ouse, en den he tuck'n stick de ehn' er de cow-tail in de groun'. Atter he gone en done all dis, den Brer Rabbit he squall out fer Brer Wolf: As soon as Brer Wolf hear talk of the patrollers, he scramble off into the underbrush like he been shot out of a gun. And he wasn't more than gone before Brer Rabbit, he whirl in and skinned the cow in salt the hide down, and then he took and cut up the carcass, and stow it away in the smoke-house, and then he took and stuck the end of the cow-tail in the ground. After he went and done all this, then Brer Rabbit he squall out for Brer Wolf:

"Run yer, Brer Wolf! Run yere! Yo' cow gwine in de groun'! Run yere!" "Run here, Brer Wolf! Run here! Your cow going in the ground! Run here!"

W'en ole Brer Wolf got dar, w'ich he come er scootin', dar wuz Brer Rabbit hol'in' on ter de cow-tail, fer ter keep it fum gwine in de groun'. Brer Wolf, he kotch holt, en dey 'gin a pull er two en up come de tail. Den Brer Rabbit, he wink his off eye en say, sezee: When old Brer Wolf got there, which he came there scooting, there was Brer Rabbit holding onto the cow-tail, for to keep it from going in the ground. Brer Wolf, he catch hold, and they begin a pull or two and up come the tail. Then Brer Rabbit, he wink his off eye and say, says he:

"Dar! de tail done pull out en de cow gone," sezee. "There! the tail done pull out and the cow gone," says he.

But Brer Wolf he wer'n't de man fer ter give it up dat away, en he got 'im a spade, en a pick-axe, en a shovel, en he dig en dig fer dat cow twel diggin' wuz pas' all endu'ance, en ole Brer Rabbit he sot up dar in his front po'ch en smoke his seegyar. Eve'y time old Brer Wolf stuck de pick-axe in de clay, Brer Babbit​ , he giggle ter his chilluns: But Brer Wolf he weren't the man for to give it up that way, and he got him a spade, and a pick-axe, and a shovel, and he dig and dig for that cow til digging was past all endurance, and old Brer Rabbit he sat up there on his front porch and smoke his cigar. Every time old Brer Wolf stuck the pick-axe in the clay, Brer Babbit​ , he giggled to his children:

"He diggy, diggy, diggy, but no meat dar! He diggy, diggy, but no meat dar!" "He diggy, diggy, diggy, but no meat there! He diggy, diggy, but no meat there!"

Kaze all de time de cow wuz layin' pile up in his smoke'-ouse, en him en his chilluns wuz eatin' fried beef en inguns eve'y time dey mouf water. Because all the time the cow was laying pile up in his smoke-house, and him and his children was eating fried beef and onions every time they mouth water.


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[illustration - MR. EGG-OTIST AT HOME. ]

KENTUCKY PHILOSOPHY.

[illustration - THE WATERMILLION BOY. ]
You, Wi'yam, come 'ere, sah, dis instunce. Wu' dat you got under dat box? You, William, come here, sir, this instance. What's that you've got under that box?
I do' want no follin'—you hear me? Wut you say? ain't nuth'n' but rocks? I don't want no fooling—you hear me? What you say? ain't nothing but rocks?
'Pears to me you's owdashus p'ticler. S'posin' dey's uv a new kine. Appears to me you is audacious particular. Supposing they is of a new kind.
I'll des take a look at dem rocks. Hi yi! dez you think dat I's bline? I'll just take a look at them rocks. Hi yi! does you think that I is blind?
I calls dat a plain watermillion, you scamp, en I knows whah it growed; I call that a plain watermelon, you scamp, and I knows where it growed;
It come fum de Jimmerson cawn fiel' dah on ter side er de road. It come from the Jimmerson corn field there on the side of the road.
You stole it, you rascal—you stole it! I watched you fum down in de lot. You stole it, you rascal—you stole it! I watched you from down in the lot.
En time I gits th'ough wid you, nigger, you won't eb'n be a grease spot! And time I gets through with you, nigger, you won't even be a grease spot!
I'll fix you. Mirandy! Mirandy! go cut me a hick'ry—make 'ase! I'll fix you. Mirandy! Mirandy! go cut me a hickory—make haste!
En cut me de toughes, en keenes' you c'n fine anywhar on de place. And cut me the toughest, and keenest you can find anywhere on the place.

darkeydrolleries.017.jpg
I'll larn you, Mr. Wi’yam Joe Vetter, ter steal en ter lie, you young sinner, I'll learn you, Mr. Wi'yam Joe Vetter, to steal and to lie, you young sinner,
Disgracin’ yo’ ole Christian mammy, en makin’ her leave cookin’ dinner! Disgracing your old Christian mammy, and making her leave cooking dinner!
Now ain’t you ashamed er yo’se’f, sur? I is. I’se ‘shamed you’s my son! Now ain't you ashamed of yourself, sir? I is. I is ashamed you is my son!
En de holy accorjan angel he’s shamed er wat you has done; And the holy recording angel he's ashamed of what you has done;
En he’s tuck it down up yander in coal-black, blood-red letters— and he's took it down up yonder in coal-black, blood-red letters—
“One watermillion stolen by Wi’yam Josephus Vetters.” "One watermelon stolen by William Josephus Vetters."
En what you s’posen Brer Bascom, yo’ teacher at Sunday-school, And what you supposing Brer Bascom, your teacher at Sunday-school,
‘Ud say, ef he knowed how you’s broke de good ole gol’n rule? would say, if he knowed how you has broke the good old golden rule?
Boy, whah’s de raisin’ I give you? Is you boun’ fuh to be a black villion? Boy, what's the raising I give you? Is you bound for to be a black villain?
I’s s’prised dat a chile er yo’ mammy ‘ud steal any man’s watermillion. I is surprised that a child of your mammy would steal any man's watermelon.
En I’s now gwiner cut it right open, en you sha’n’t have nary bite. And I is now going to cut it right open, and you shan't have nary a bite.
Fuh a boy who’ll steal watermillions—en dat in de day’s broad light— For a boy who'll steal watermelons—and that in the day's broad light—
Ain’t—Lawdy! it’s green! Mirandy! Mi-rand-y! come on wi’ dat switch! Ain't—Lawdy! It's green! Mirandy! Mi-rand-y! Come on with that switch!
Well, stealin’ a g-r-e-e-n watermillion! Who ever yeared tell er des sich? Well, stealin a g-r-e-e-n watermelon! Who ever heard tell of this sitch?
Can’t tell w’en dey’s ripe? W’y you thump um, en w’en dey go pank! dey is Green; Can't tell when they's ripe? Why you thump them, and when they go pank! they is green;
But when dey go to punk! now you mine me, dey’s ripe—en dat’s des wut I mean. but when they go to punk! now you mind me, they's ripe—and that's just what I mean.
En nex’ time you hook watermillions—you heered me you ign’ant, you hunk, And next time you hook watermelons—you heard me you ignorant, you hunk,
Ef you do’ want a lickin’ all over, be sho dat dey allers go ‘punk!” If you don't want a licking all over, be sure that they always go 'punk!"
[illustration - ]

STOP RAISING WATERMELONS, OR PUT MUZZLES ON COLORED PEOPLE.

The other day a train-load of colored people were traveling on the Louisville and Chicago road, and it became necessary for their train to be side-tracked to wait for another to pass. While waiting they noticed a melon patch near the station, They looked at it and their mouths watered. They restrained themselves for a moment until a colored boy got over the fence and broke open a melon across his knee. The sight of the gore of the melon seemed to madden them, and in less than ten seconds the whole train of colored men was over the fence.


darkeydrolleries.018.jpg

The engineer whistled, the fireman rung the bell, and the conducter yelled “Aboard!” but they came not until they had ruined two acres of melons and vines.

The owner of the field went crazy as he saw the black people spreading over his farm, and the conductor was wild as he saw the floors of the cars, but nobody could look at the happy faces, with gashes cut in the center by sharpened slices of melon, without feeling that what was the farmer’s loss was their gain.

We are not prepared to say that white people would have acted different under the same circumstances. If it had been some kind of white people they would have detailed a slogger to go up to the house and whip the farmer if he gave them any “lip.”

However, it is plain enough that a law must be passed to prevent colored people from getting together. We must either stop the raising of watermelons or put muzzles on the colored people. The watermelon has the same effect on the colored man that whiskey does on the Irishman or the German. Keep them from the exciting effects of the melon and isolate them from each other and they are all right, but combined could not prevent a riot. There is something about the juice or the pulp of a melon or the seeds that seems to open the pores and cause the colored people to get on their ears and break out in new spots.

We don’t know but the effects could be made less fatal by the vaccination of the colored man with the virus of a melon, or by vaccinating the melon with a colored man, and we suggest that the National Board of Health experiment a little on the subject. Take a piece of melon and shoot it into a colored man out of a gun and see what the effect will be.

OUGHT TO BE ARRESTED FOR PROCRASTINATING.

Old Uncle Remus went into the justice court and said: “Jedge, kin I git a ‘dictment writ agin dat wuffless nigger, Pete? He’s bin a procrastinmatin’. Ain’t procrastimation de thief ob time? Den, ain’t Pete a thief?” Old Uncle Remus went into the justice court and said "Judge, can I get a indictment writ against that worthless nigger, Pete? He's been a procrastinating. Ain't procrastination the thief of time? Then, ain't Pete a thief?"

“Yes, you might so construe it, but you cannot convict a man for stealin’ time.”

“No, but when we hab got de proof on him fur stealin’ time, we hab got de circumstantial ebidence agin him fur stealin’ money, fur don’t ‘flossify say dat time am money? Got yer dar, Jedge.” "No, but when we have got the proof on him for stealing time, we have got the circumstantial evidence against him for stealing money, for don't philosophy say that time is money? Got you there, Judge."

MISS COW FALLS A VICTIM TO MR.RABBIT.

Brer Rabbit was skippin’ ‘long home, oncet, he was (said Uncle Remus), des ez sassy ez a jay-bird at a sparrer’s nes’. He went gallopin’ ‘long, he did do, he feel mighty tired out, en stiff in his jints, en he wuz might nigh dead for sumpin fer ter drunk, en bimeby, he see Miss Cow, en he holler out, Brer Rabbit was skipping along home, once, he was (said Uncle Remus), just as sassy as a jay-bird at a sparrow's nest. He went galloping along, he did do, he feel mighty tired out, and stiff in his joints, and he was might nigh dead for something for to drunk, and bimeby, he see Miss Cow, and he holler out,

“Howdy, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "Howdy, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit, says he.

“W’y, howdy, Brer Rabbit,” sez Miss Cow, sez she. "Why, howdy, Brer Rabbit," says Miss Cow, says she.

“How you fine yo’se’f deze days, Sis Cow?” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "How you find yourself these days, Sis Cow?" says Brer Rabbit, says he.

"I’m sorter toler’ble, Brer Rabbit; how you come on?” sez Miss Cow, sez she. "I'm sort of tolerable, Brer Rabbit; how you come on?" says Miss Cow, says she."

“Oh, I’m des toler’ble myse’f, Sis Cow; sorter linger’n twiz’ a bauk en a break-down,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "Oh, I'm this tolerable myself, Sis Cow; sort of lingering twixt a balk and a breakdown," says Brer Rabbit, says he.

“How yo’ fokes, Brer Rabbit?” sez Miss Cow, sez she. "How you folks, Brer Rabbit?" says Miss Cow, says she.

“Dey er des middlin’, Sis Cow; how Brer Bull gittin’ on?” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "They are just middling, Sis Cow; how Brer Bull getting on?" says Brer Rabbit, says he.

“Sorter so-so,” sez Miss Cow, sez she. "Sort of so-so," says Miss Cow, says she.

“Dey er some mighty nice ‘simmons up dis tree, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, “en I’d like mighty well fer ter have some un um plums,” sezee. "They are some mighty nice persimmons up this tree, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit says he, "and I'd like mighty well for to have some of them plums," says he.

“How you gwineter git um, Brer Rabbit?” sez she. "How you going to get them, Brer Rabbit?" says she.


darkeydrolleries.019.jpg

“I ‘low’d maybe dat I might ax you fer ter butt ‘gin de tree, en shake some down, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "I allowed maybe that I might ask you for to butt against the tree, and shake some down, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit, says he.

‘Cose Miss Cow don’t wanter diskommerdate Brer Rabbit, she march up ter de frer simmon tree, she did, en hit it a rap wid’er hawns—blam! Now, der, dem ‘simmons wuz green ez grass, en na’er one never drap. Den Miss Cow butt de tree—blim; Na’er ‘simmon drap. Den Miss Cow sorter back off little, en run agin de tree—blip! No ‘simmons never drap. Den Miss Cow back off littler fudder, she did en hi’st her tail on ‘er back, en come again de tree, kerblam! En she come so fas’, en she come so hard, twel wunner her hawns went spang throo de tree, en dar she wuz. She can’t go forreds, an she can’t go backerds. Dis zackly w’at Brer Rabbit waitin’ fer, en he no sooner seed old Miss Cow all fas’ed’d up dan he jump up he did, en cut de pidjin—wing. Cause Miss Cow don't want to disaccommodate Brer Rabbit, she march up to the first persimmon tree, she did, and hit it a rap with her horns—blam! Now, there, them persimmons was green as grass, and nary one never drop. Then Miss Cow sort of back off little further, she did and hoist her tail on her back, and come again the tree, kerblam! And she come so fast, and she come so hard, till one of her horns went spang through the tree, and there she was. She can't go forwards, and she can't go backwards. This exactly what Brer Rabbit waiting for, and he no sooner see old Miss Cow all fastened up than he jump up he did and cut the pigeon—wing.

“Come he’p me out, Brer Rabbit,” sez Miss Cow, sez she. "Come help me out, Brer Rabbit," says Miss Cow, says she.

“I can’t clime, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, “but I’ll run’n tell Brer Bull,” sezee; en wid dat Brer Rabbit put out fer home, en ‘twant’t long ‘fo here he come wid his old ‘oman en all his chilluns, en de las’ wunner de fambly wuz totin’ a pail. De big uns had big pails, en de little uns had little pails. En dey all s’rounded ole Miss Cow, dey did, en you hear me, honey, dey milk’t ‘er dry. De old uns milk’t en de young uns milk’t, en den w’en dey done got nuff, Brer Rabbit, he up’n say, sezzee: "I can't climb, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "but I'll run and tell Brer Bull," says he; and with that Brer Rabbit put out for home, and it wasn't long before here he come with his old woman and all his children, and the last one of the family was toting a pail. The big ones had big pails, and the little ones had little pails. And they all surrounded old Miss Cow, they did, and you hear me, honey, they milked her dry. The old one milked and the young ones milked, and then when they done got enough, Brer Rabbit, he up and say, says he:

“I wish you mighty well, Sis Cow. I ‘low’d bein’s how dat you’d hatter sorter camp out all night dat I’d better come en ‘swaje yo’bag,” sezee. W’en cows don’t git milk’t, der bag swells, en you k’n hear um a moanin’ en a beller’n des like dez wuz gittin’ hurtid. Dat’s w’at Brer Rabbit done. He ‘sembled his family, he did, en he swaje old Miss Cow’s bag. "I wish you mighty well, Sis Cow. I allowed being how that you would had to sort of camp out all night that I'd better come and assuage your bag," says he. When cows don't get milked, their bag swells, and you can hear them a moaning and a bellowing just like they was getting hurt. That's what Brer Rabbit done. He assembled his family, he did, and he assuage old Miss Cow's bag.

Miss Cow, she stood dar, she did, en she study en study, en strive fer ter break loose, but de hawn done bin jam in de tree so tight dat twuz way ‘fo day in de mornin’ ‘fo’ she loose it. Enny how hit wuz endurin’ er de night, en atter she git loose she sorter gaze 'roun', she did, fer ter jestify 'er stummuck.She 'low'd, old Miss Cow did, dat Brer Rabbit be hoppin’ ‘long dat way fer ter see how she gittin’ on, en she tuck’n layer trap fer ‘im; en des ‘bout sunrise wat’d old Miss Cow do but march up ter de ‘simmon tree en stick er hawn back in de hole? But, bless yo’ soul, honey, w’ile she wuz croppin’ de grass, she tuck one moufull too menny, kaze w’en she hitch on ter de ‘simmon tree agin, Brer Rabbit wuz settin’ in de fence cornder a watchin’ un ‘er. Den Brer Rabbit he say ter hisse’f: Miss Cow, she stood there, she did, and she study and study, and strive for to break loose but the horn done been jam in the tree so tight that it was way before day in the morning before she loose it. Anyhow it was enduring her the night, and after she get loose she sort of gaze around, she did, for to justify her stomach. She allowed, old Miss Cow did, that Brer Rabbit be hopping along that way for to see how she getting on, and she tuck and lay her trap for him; and just about sunrise what did old Miss Cow do but march up to the persimmon tree and stick her horn back in the hole? But, bless your soul, honey, while she was cropping the grass, she took one mouthful too many, cause when she hitch on to the persimmon tree again, Brer Rabbit was sitting in the fence corner a watching on her. Then Brer Rabbit he say to himself:

"Heyo,” sezee, “w’at dis yer gwine on now? Hole yo’ hosses, Sis Cow, twel you hear me coming’,” sezee. "Heyo," says he, "what this here going on now? Hold your horses, Sis Cow, till you hear me coming." says he.

"En den he crope off down de fence, Brer Rabbit did, en bimeby here he come—lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity—des a-sailin’ down de big road. “Mawnin’, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, “how you come on dis mawnin:” sezee. "And then he crept off down the fence, Brer Rabbit did, and by and by here he come—lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity— just a-sailing down the big road. "Morning, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "how you come on this morning?" says he.

“Po’ly, Brer Rabbit, po’ly,” sez Miss Cow, sez she. “I ain’t had no res’ all night,” sez she. “I can’t pull loose," ‘ sez she, “but ef you’ll come en ketch holt er my tail, Brer Rabbit,” sez she, “I reckin may be I kin fetch my hawn out,” sez she. Den Brer Rabbit, he come up little closer, but he ain’t gittin’ too close. "Poorly, Brer Rabbit, poorly," says Miss Cow, says she. "I ain't had no rest all night," says she. "I can't pull loose," says she, "but if you'll come and catch hold of my tail, Brer Rabbit," says she, "I reckon maybe I can fetch my horn out," says she. Then Brer Rabbit, he come up a little closer, but he ain't getting too close.

“I speck I’m nigh nuff, Sis Cow,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. “I’m a mighty puny man, en I might git trompled,” sezee. “You do de pullin’, Sis Cow,” sezee, “en I’ll do de gruntin’,” sezee. "I suspect I'm not enough, Sis Cow," says Brer Rabbit, says he. "I"m a mighty puny man, and I might get trampled," says he. "You do the pulling, Sis Cow," says he, "and I"ll do the grunting," says he.

Den Miss Cow, she pull out ‘er hawn, she did, en tuck atter Brer Rabbit, en down de big road dey had it, Brer Rabbit wid his years laid back, en Miss Cow wid ‘er head down en ‘er tail curl, Brer Rabbit kep’ on gainin’, en bimby he dart in a brier-patch, en by de time Miss Cow come ‘long he had his head stickin’ out, en his eyes look big ez Miss Sally’s channy sassers. Then Miss Cow, she pull out her horn, she did, and took after Brer Rabbit, and down the big road they had it, Brer Rabbit with his ears laid back, and Miss Cow with her head down and her tail curl, Brer Rabbit kept on gaining, and by and by he dart in a briar-patch, and by the time Miss Cow come along he had his head sticking out, and his eyes look big as Miss Sally's china saucers.


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“Heyo, Sis Cow! Whar you gwine?” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. "Heyo, Sis Cow! Where you going?" says Brer Rabbit, says he.

“Howdy, Brer Big-Eyes,” sez Miss Cow, sez she. “Is you see Brer Rabbit go by?” "Howdy, Brer Big-Eyes," says Miss Cow, says she. "Is you see Brer Rabbit go by?"

“He des dis minit pass,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, “en he look mighty sick,” sezee. "He just this minute pass," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "and he look mighty sick," says he

En wid dat, Miss Cow tuck down the road like de dogs wuz atter ‘er, en Brer Rabbit, he des lay down dar in de brier-patch en roll en laff twel his sides hurtid ‘im. And with that, Miss Cow took down the road like the dogs was after her, and Brer Rabbit, he just lay down there in the briaer-patch and roll and laugh till his sides hurted him.

WHY HE QUIT PREACHING.

[illustration - ]

“I understand, Uncle Amos, that you have quit preaching,” said the Secretary of State to a colored man who for years has had charge of a church in Little Rock. “Why did you quit?” “Wall, dar was numerous pressures brought ter bar agin the ole man. Dey charged me wid stealin’ a ham for one thing and ‘vised me ter quit.” "Well, there was numerous pressure brought to bear against the old man. They charged me with stealing a ham for one thing and advised me to quit “Why, they couldn’t prove that you stole the ham, could they?” “No, sah, da coultn’, and ef I hadn’t ‘knowledged it, da neber would have prubed it.” "No, sir, they couldn't, and if I hadn't acknowledged it, they never would have proved it “Why did you acknowledge it?”

“Case da found de ham under bed, sah.” "Cause they found the ham under bed, sir.

One of the funniest grotesques that ever blacked a face is the diminutive genius who creates unlimited laughter with the Lovell, Devoy, and Leelereq trio. A Tom Thumb in stature, he is a giant in talent. One day, with his boon companions, Tom stopped for a moment near the kerbstone, when Devoy called out to him:—“Come away; they’ll think you are a post, and some horse-back rider will be stepping on you!”

PALPABLE HITS.

During last autumn’s shooting season an English gentleman, familiar with gun and rod, happened to be a guest at the South Side Club, Long Island, near New York. One fine morning, while pacing the piazza, he saw approaching an old negro, having in one hand a rickety flint lock shot-gun and in the other some twenty odd woocock. Accosting the African the gentleman said:

“My good fellow, that’s a fine string of birds you have?”

“Yes, sah, dem’s good birds, and no mistake.” "Yes, sir, them's good birds, and no mistake."

“Pray, my man, did you shoot them hereabout?”

“Yes, sah; shot ‘em all round here.” "Yes, sir; shot them all around here."

“Ah, ‘pon my w-o-r-d, that’s v-e-r-y extraordinary! And did you”—pointing to the old gun—“shoot them with that singular antique instrument?”

“Yes, sah, every one of ‘em.” "Yes, sir, every one of them."

“And may I ask if you shot them on the wing?”

“De what?” "The what?"

“On the wing?”

“Yes, sah; shoot ‘em on de wing, shoot ‘em on de head, shoot ‘em on de tail—shoot ‘em anywhere.” "Yes, sir; shoot them on the wing, shoot them on the head, shoot them on the tail—shoot them anywhere.


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THE 'ITTLE RABBIT The Little Rabbit

Fine um whar you will en w’en you may (remarked Uncle Remus with emphasis) good chilluns allers gits tuck keer on. Dar was Brer Rabbit’s chilluns allers gits tuck keer on. Dar was Brer Rabbit’s chilluns; dey minded der daddy en mammy fum day’s een’ ter day’s een’. W’en ole man Rabbit say ‘scoot,’ dey schooted, en w’en old Miss Rabbit say ‘scat,’ de scatted. Dey did dat. En dey kep der cloze clean, en dey ain’t had no smut on der nose nudder. Dey wuz good chilluns, en ef dey hadn’t er bin, der wuz one time w’en dey wouldn’t er bin no little rabbits—na’er one. Dat wuz de time w’en Brer Fox drapt in at Brer Rabbit house, en didn’t foun’ nobody dar ‘ceppin’ de little Rabbits. Ole Brer Rabbit, he wuz off som’ers raiding on a collard patch, en old Miss Rabbit she wuz tendin’ on a quiltin’ in de naberhood, en wiles de little Rabbits wuz playin’ hidin’-switch, in drapt Brer Fox. De little Rabbits wuz so fat dat dey fa’rly make his mouf water, but he skeered fer ter gobble um up’ ceppin’ he got some skuse. De little Rabbits, dey mighty skittish, en dey sorter huddle deyse’f up tergedder en watch Brer Fox motions. Brer Fox, he sot dar en study w’at sorter skuse he gwineter make up. Bimeby he see a great big stalk er sugarcane stan’in’ up in de cornder, en he cle’r up his th’oat en talk biggity: Find them where you will and when you may (remarked Uncle Remus with emphasis) good children always gets took care on. There was Brer Rabbit's children always gets took care on. There was Brer Rabbit's children; they minded their daddy and mammy from day's end to day's end. When old man Rabbit say 'scoot' they scooted, and when old Miss Rabbit say 'scat,' the scatted. They did that. And they kept their clothes clean, and they ain't had no smut on their nose neither. They was good children, and if they hadn't been, there was one time when they wouldn't have been no little rabbits—not a one. That was the time when Brer Fox dropt in at Brer Rabbit house, and didn't found noboday there excepting the little Rabbits. Ole Brer Rabbit, he was off somewheres raiding on a collard patch, and old Miss Rabbit she was tending on a quilting in the neighborhood, and whiles the little Rabbits was playing hiding switch, in dropped Brer Fox. The little Rabbits was so fat that they fairly make his mouth water, but he scared for to gobble them up excepting he got some excuse. The little Rabbits, they mighty skittish, and they sort of huddle theyself up together and watch Brer Fox motions. Brer Fox, he sat there and study what sort of excuse he going to make up. By and by he see a great big stalk of sugarcane standing up in the corner, and he clear up his throat and talked biggity:

“Yer! You young Rabs dar, sail ‘roun’ yer en broke me a piece er dat sweet-ain’-tree,” sezee, en den he koff. "Here! You young Rabbits there, sail round here and broke me a piece of that sweet cane tree," says he, and then he cough.

De little Rabbits, dey got out de sugar-cane, they did, en dey rastle wid it, en sweat over it, but twan’t no use. Dey couldn’t broke it. Brer Fox, he make like he ain’t watchin’, but he keep on holler’n: The little Rabbits, they got out the sugar-cane, they did, and they wrestle with it, and sweat over it, but it wasn't no use. They couldn't broke it. Brer Fox, he make like he ain't watching, but he keep on hollering:

“Hurry up dar, Rabs! I’m a-waitin’ on you.” "Hurry up there, Rabbits! I'm a-waiting on you."

En de little Rabbits, dey hustle ‘roun’ en rastle wid it, but dey couldn’t broke it. Bimeby dey hear little bird singin’ on top er de house, en de song wa’t de little bird wuz dish yer: And the little Rabbits, the hustle round and wrestle with it, but they couldn't broke it. By and by they hear little bird singing on top of their house, and the song what the little bird was this here:

“Take yo’ toofies en gnyaw it,
Take yo’ toofies en saw it,
Saw it n yoke it,
En den you kin broke it.”
"Take your toothies and gnaw it,
Take your toothies and saw it,
saw it and yoke it,
and then you can broke it."

Den de little Rabbits, dey git mighty glad, en dey gnyawed de cane mos’ ‘fo’ ole Brer Fox could git his legs oncrosst, en w’en dey kyard ‘im de cane, Brer Fox, he sot dar en srudy how he gwineter make some mo’ skuse fer nabbin’ un um, en bimeby he git up en git down de sieve w’at wuz hangin’ on de wall, en holler out: Then the little Rabbits, they get mighty glad, and they gnawed the cane most before old Brer Fox could get his legs uncrossed, and when they carried him the cane, Brer Fox, he sat there and study how he going to make some more excuse for nabbing on them, and by and by he get up and get down the sieve what was hanging on the wall, and holler out:

“Come yer, Rabs! Take dish yer sifter, en run down’t de spring en fortch me some fresh water.” "Come here, Rabbits! Take this here sifter, and run down it the spring and fetch me some fresh water."

De little Rabbits, dey run downt de spring, en try ter dip up de water wid de sifter, but co’se hit all run out, en hit keep on runnin’ out, twell bimeby de little Rabbits sot down en ‘gun ter cry. Den de little bird settin’ up in de tree he begin fer ter sing, en dish yer’s de song w’at he sing: The little Rabbits, they run down the spring, and try to dip up the water with the sifter, but cause it all run out, and hit keep on running out, till by and by the little Rabbits sat down and going to cry. Then the little bird sitting up in the tree he begin for to sing, and this here's the song what he sing:

“Sifter hole water same ez a tray,
Ef you fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay;
De Fox git madder de longer you stay—
Fill it wid moss en dob it wid clay.”
"Sifter hold water same as a tray,
If you fill it with moss and daub it with clay;
The fox get madder the longer you stay—
Fill it with moss and daub it with clay."

Up dey jump, de little Rabbits did, en dey fix de sifter so ‘twon’t leak, en den dey kyar de water ter old Brer Fox. Den Brer Fox he git mighty mad en pint out a great big stick er wood, en tell de little Rabbits fer ter put dat on de fier. De little chaps dey got ‘roun’ de wood, dey did, en dey lif’ at it so hard twel dey could see der own sins, but de wood ain’t budge. Den dey hear de little bird singin’, en dish yer’s de song w’at he sing: Up they jump, the little Rabbits did, and they fix the sifter so it won't leak, and then they carry the water to old Brer Fox. The Brer Fox he get mighty mad and point out a great big stick of wood, and tell the little Rabbits for to put that on the fire. The little chaps they got round the wood, they did, and they lift at it so hard till they could see their own sins, but the wood ain't budge. Then they hear the little bird singing, and this here's the song what he sing:


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“Tug it en toll it,
Push it, en pole it;
En r’ar back en roll it.”
"Tug it and toll it,
Push it, and pull it;
And rear back and roll it."

En des ‘bout de time dey got de wood on de fier, der daddy, he come skippin’ in, en de little bird, he flew’d away. Brer Fox, he seed his game wuz up, en ‘twan’t long ‘fo’ he make his skuse en start for ter go. And this bout the time they got the wood on the fire, their daddy, he come skipping in, and then the little bird, he flew away. Brer Fox, he see his game was up, and it wasn't long before he make his excuse and start for to go.

“You better stay en take a snak wid me, Brer Fox,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. “Sense Brer Wolf done quit comin’ en settin’ up wid me, I gittin’ so I feels right lonesome dese long nights,” sezee. "You better stay and take a snack with me, Brer Fox," says Brer Rabbit, says he. "Since Brer Wolf done quit coming and sitting up with me, I getting so I feels right lonesome these long nights," says he.

But Brer Fox, he button up his coat-collar tight en des put out fer home, kaze he ‘member forwhy Brer Wolf aint come set up mo’ wid Brer Rabbit; en dat fac’ was jes dis way—see! When Brer Wolf call on Mr. Rabbit, in de Rabbit’s house, he los’ wunner his chilluns. But Brer Fox, he button up his coat-collar tight and just put out for home, cause he remember for why Brer Wolf ain't come sit up no with Brer Rabbit; and that fact was just the way—see! When Brer Wolf call on Mr. Rabbit, in the Rabbit's house, he lost one of his children.

Las’ Brer Rabbit got mad, he did, en cust, en den he went off, he did, en got some kyarpinters, en dey b’ilt ‘im a plank house wid rock foundashuns. After dat he could have some peace and quietness. He could go out en pass de time er day wid his nabers, en come back en set by de fier, en smoke his pipe, en read de newspapers same like enny man w’at got a fambly. He made a hole, he did, in de cellar whar de little Rabbits could hide outw’en dar wuz much uv a racket in de naberhood, en de latch er de front do’ kotch on de inside. Last Brer Rabbit got mad, he did, and cussed, and then he went off, he did, and got some carpenters, and they bilt him a plank house with rock foundations. After that he could have some peace and quietness. He could go out en pass the time of day with his neighbors, and come back and sit by the fire, and smoke his pipe, and read the newspapers same like any man what got a family. He made a hole, he did, in the cellar were the little Rabbits could hide out when there was much of a racket in the neighborhood, and the latch of the front door catch on the inside.

Brer Wolf, he see how de lan’ lay, he did, en he lay low. De little Rabbits wuz mighty skittish, but hit got so dat cole chills ain’t run up Brer Rabbit’s back no mo’ w’en he heerd Brer Wolf go gallopin’ by. Brer Wolf, he see how the land lay, he did, and he lay low. The little Rabbits was mighty skittish, but it got so that cold chills ain't run up Brer Rabbit's back no more when he hear Brer Wolf go galloping by.

Bimeby, one day w’en Brer Rabbit wuz fixin’ fer ter call on Miss Coon, he heerd a monstus fuss en clatter up de big road, en ‘mos’ ‘fo’ he could fix his years fer ter lissen, Brer Wolf run in de do’. De little Rabbits dey went inter dere hole in de cellar, dey did, like blowin’ out a cannel. Brer Wolf wuz far’ly kivver’d wid mud, en mighty nigh outer win’! By and by, one day when Brer Rabbit was fixing for to call on Miss Coon, he heard a monstrous fuss and clatter up the big road, and almost before he could fix his ears for to listen, Brer Wolf run in the door. The little Rabbits they went into their hole in the cellar, they did, like blowin out a candle. Brer Wolf was fairly covered with mud, and mighty nigh out of wind!

"Oh, do pray save me, Brer Rabbit!” sez Brer Wolf, sezee. “Do please, Brer Rabbit! De dogs is atter me, en dey’ll t’ar me up. Don’t year um comin? Oh, do please save me, Brer Rabbit! Hide me some’rs whar de dogs won’t git me.” "Oh, do pray save me, Brer Rabbit!" says Brer Wolf, says he. "Do please, Brer Rabbit! The dogs is after me, and they'll tear me up. Don't you hear them coming? Oh, do please save me, Brer Rabbit! Hide me somewheres where the dogs won't get me."

No quicker sed dan done. No quicker said than done.

“Jump in date big chist dar, Brer Wolf,” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee; “jump in dar en make yo’se’f at home.” "Jump in that big chest there, Brer Wolf," says Brer Rabbit, says he; "jump in there and make yourself at home."

In jump Brer Wolf, down come de led, en inter de hasp went de hook, en dar Mr. Wolf wuz. Den Brer Rabbit went ter de lookin’-glass, he did, en wink at hisse’f, en den he drawd de rockin’-cheer in front er de fire, he did, en tuck a big chaw terbarker. Den Brer Rabbit sot dar long time, he did, turnin’ his mine oer en wukken his thinkin masheen. Bimeby he got up, en sorter stir ‘roun’.Den Brer Wolf open up: In jump Brer Wolf, down came the lid, and into the hasp went the hook, in there Mr. Wolf was. Then Brer Rabbit went to the looking glass, he did, and wink at himself, and then he drawed the rockin-chair in front of the fire, he did, and took a big chew of tobacco. Then Brer Rabbit sat there a long time, he did, turning his mind over and working his thinking machine. Bimeby he got up, and sort of stir around. Den Brer Wolf open up:

“Is de dogs all gone, Brer Rabbit?” "Is the dogs all gone, Brer Rabbit?"

“Seem like I hear on un um smellin’ roun’ de chimbly-cornder des now.” Den Brer Rabbit git de kittle en fill it full er water, en put it on de fier. "Seem like I hear on one them smelling round the chimney corner just now." Then Brer Rabbit got the kettle full of water, and put it on the fire.

“W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?” "What you doing now, Brer Rabbit?"

“I’m fixin’ ter make you a nice cup er tea, Brer Wolf.” "I'm fixing to make you a nice cup of tea, Brer Wolf."

Den Brer Rabbit went der de cubbard en git de gimlet, en commence for ter bo’ littler holes in de chist-led. Then Brer Rabbit went to the cupboard and get the gimlet, and commence for to bore little holes in the chest lid.

“W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?” "What you doing now, Brer Rabbit?"

"I’m a-bo’in’ little holes so you kin get bref, Brer Wolf." "I'm a-boring little holes so you can get breath, Brer Wolf."

Den Brer Rabbit went out en git some mo’ wood, en fling it on de fier. Then Brer Rabbit went out and get some more wood, and fling it on the fire.

“W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?” "What you doing now, Brer Rabbit?"

“I’m a-clumkin’ de fier as you won’t get cole, Brer Wolf.” "I'm a-clunking the fier as you won't get cold, Brer Wolf."


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Den Brer Rabbit went down inter de cellar en fotch out all his chilluns. Then Brer Rabbit went down into the cellar and fetch out all his children.

“W’at you doin’ now, Brer Rabbit?” "What you doing now, Brer Rabbit?"

“I’m tellin’ my chilluns w’at a nice man you is, Brer Wolf.” "I'm telling my children what a nice man you is, Brer Wolf."

En de chilluns, dey had ter put der han’s on der moufs fer to keep fum laffin’. Den Brer Rabbit he got de kittle en commence fer to po’ de hot water on de chistlid. And the children, they had to put their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing. Then Brer Rabbit he got the kettle and commence for to pour the hot water on the chest lid.

“W’at dat I hear, Brer Rabbit? "What that I hear, Brer Rabbit?"

“You hear de souf win’ a-blowin’, Brer Wolf.” "You hear the south wind a-blowing, Brer Wolf."

Den de water begin fer ter sif’ throo. Then the water begin for to sift through.

“W’at dat I feel, Brer Rabbit? "What that I feel, Brer Rabbit?"

“You feels de fleas a-bitin’, Brer Wolf.” "You feels the fleas a-biting, Brer Wolf."

“Dey er bitin’ mighty hard, Brer Rabbit.” "They are biting mighty hard, Brer Rabbit."

“Tu’n over on de udder side, Brer Wolf.” "Turn over on the other side, Brer Wolf."

“W’at dat I feel now, Brer Rabbit? "What that I feel now, Brer Rabbit?"

“Still you feels de fleas, Brer Wolf.” "Still you feels the fleas, Brer Wolf."

“Dey er eatin’ me up, Brer Rabbit,” en dem wuz de las’ words Brer Wolf, kase de scaldin’ water done de bizness. "They are eating me up, Brer Rabbit," and them was the last words Brer Wolf, cause the scalding water done the business.

Den Brer Rabbit call in his nabers, he did, en dey hilt a reg’lar jubelee; en ef you go ter Brer Rabbit’s house right now, I dunno but w’at you’ll fine Brer Wolf’s hide hangin’ in de back-po’ch, en all bekaze he wuz so bizzy wid udder fo’kses doin’s." Then Brer Rabit call in his neighbors, he did, and they held a regular jubilee; and if you go to Brer Rabbit's house right now, I don't know what you'll find Brer Wolf's hide hanging in the back porch, and all because he was so busy with other folks doings."

SLOW TO GO OFF.

[illustration - ]

“Boss,” said a colored man, “I wish dat you’d state in de paper dat I’se got a fine gal down ter my house.” "Boss," said a colored man, "I wish that you'd state in the paper that I has got a fine gal down to my house."

“How much does she weigh? It is customary, you know, to tive the number of pounds,” said the editor

“Limmy see, I doan know, zackly. Jis say dat she’s big enough fur all practical pupposes.” "Let me see, I don't know, exactly. Just say that she's big enough for all practical purposes."

“Didn’t you weigh her?”

“Oh, yes, sah; weighed her, but I forget, It’s been so long ago.” "Oh, yes, sir; weighed her, but I forget, It's been so long ago."

“Why, how old is the girl?”

“Bout—limmy see—she were born ‘bout de berginnin’ ob de wah.” "Bout—let me see—she were born about the beginning of the war."

“Why, I thought that she had just been born. And that you wanted a birth notice.”

“No, sah, I want’s a notice what’ll fetch men aroun’ ter my house. Der fack is, boss, dat I’se tired ob de gal, and wants ter git her offen my hands. Jes say dat she’s a likely ‘oman, and will make any man a good wife. She fixes herself up wonnerfully, and uses de best powder and ochres, but still she don’t draw so well as she paints. She ain’t got but one eye, but, boss, she can look powerful wid de udder one. An’ I wants yer pussonel ‘fluence. Ed yer sees a man, no matter if he ain’t got but one laig, lookin’ fur a wife, sen’ him down ter old Sam’s house.” "No, sir, I want a notice what'll fetch men around to my house. The fact is, boss, that I is tired of the gal, and wants to get her off of my hands. Just say that she's a likely woman, and will make any man a good wife. She fixes herself up wonderfully, and uses the best powder and ochres, but still she don't draw so well as she paints. She ain't got but one eye, but, boss, she can look powerful with the other one. And I wants your personal influence. If you sees a man, no matter if he ain't got but one leg, looking for a wife, send him down to old Sam's house."


darkeydrolleries.024.jpg

DOWN ON THE DUCKS.

At a recent debate by “coloured brothers,” the question of the evening was, “Which am de mudder ob de chicken—de hen wot lay de egg, or de hen wot hatches de chick?” "Which is the mother of the chicken-the hen won't lay the egg, or the hen won't hatch the chick?" The question was warmly debated, and many reasons pro and con. were urged and combated, when a shrewd fellow put the case thus: “S’pose dat you set one dozen ducks’ eggs uder a hen and dey hatch, which am de mudder—de duck or de hen?” "Suppose that you set one dozen ducks' eggs under a hen and they hatch, which am the mother—the duck or the hen?

This was a poser; but the chairman extricated them from the difficulty. Rising from his chair in all the pride of conscious superiority, he announced, “Ducks am not before de house; chickens am de question, derefore I rule de ducks out.” "Ducks am not before the house; chickens am the question, therefore I rule the ducks out."

“Ef de white folks be as dark as dat out dar,” "If the white folks be as dark as that out there," said a negro who was gazing at some Japanese in California, “I wonder what is de colour ob de black folks?” "I wonder what is the color of the black folks?"

THE SCHOOLMASTER AT HOME

“Lor’, missus,” "Lord, missus," said an old darkey, “what mek you pay money fur to send do chile to school? I got one smart boy, Jonas, but I larns him myself.” "what make you pay money for to send the child to school? I got one smart boy, Jonas, but I learned him myself." “But Aunt Charlotte,” replied the lady, “how can you teach the child when you don’t know one letter from another?” “How I teach him?” said the woman. “I jes mek him tek de book an’ set down on de flo’, and den I say, ‘Jonas, you tek ye eye from dat book, much less leggo him , an’ I skins you alive!’” "I just make him take the book and sit down on the floor, and then I say, 'Jonas, you take your eye from that book, much less let go of him, and I skins you alive!'"

A HOPELESS CASE.

[illustration - ]

"Jedge,” "Judge,” said a coloured man to an Arkansas jurist, “wid some powerful facts in my favor ken I get a divorce immediately from a mighty bad ‘oman?” "with some powerful facts in my favor can I get a divorce immediately from a mighty bad woman?"

“You can by production of certain evidence and due legal course, secure a dissolution,” replied the judge.

“Dissolution,” repeated the dissatisfied husband. “Dissolution! Dat’s one ob the fines’ words I eber heard. Ef I had been in possession ob dat observation, sar, I wouldn’t hab been beat for justice ob de peace. But jedge, I wants de dissolution right off now.” "Dissolution! That's one of the finest words I ever heard. If i had been in possession of that observation, sir, I wouldn't have been beat for justice of the peace. But judge, I wants the dissolution right off now."

"What has your wife done?"

“She’s been actin’ like a white ‘ooman, an’ is gittin’ above me. Dat’s why yer hears my boice in dis wail ob complaint.” "She's been acting like a white woman, and is getting above me. That's what you hears my voice in this wail of complaint."

"How has she acted like a white woman?"


darkeydrolleries.025.jpg

“Why, she kisses a pet dog, sah. It was all right so long as she simply went wid white wimmin, an’ tried to run away wid a preacher, but when she tuck up wid dat dog I ‘gun ter get sick. Now, judge, ‘sposen yerself wus ter go home an’ fin’ yer wife huggin’ and kissin’ a poodle, wouldn’t yer sorter look out fur dissolution, as yer in high strung ‘stronomy termed it jist now? ” “ Why, she kisses a pet dog, sir. It was all right so long as she simply went with white women, and tried to run away with a preacher, but when she tuck up with that dog I begun to get sick. Now, judge, supposing yourself was to go home and find your wife hugging and kissing a poodle, wouldn’t you sort of look out for dissolution, as you in high strung astronomy termed it just now?”

“I think that I would,” replied the judge.

An’ den, ef yer wife wuster set de dog up ter de table an’ chaw beefsteak fu’ him, wouldn’t dat seem sorter outrageous ter yer legal understandin’?" “And then, if your wife was to set the dog up to the table and chew beefsteak for him, wouldn’t that seem sort of outrageous to your legal understanding?"

“I quite agree with you, old man.”

“Wall, den, write out a divorce fur me now.” “Well, then, write out a divorce for me now.”

“I can’t do it.”

“But, jedge, I’se gone ef yer don’t.” ”But, judge, I is gone if you don’t.”

“Why?”

“Case I’se dun married annuder ‘oman.” “Cause I’ve done married another woman.”

PINNED RIGHT DOWN

[illustration - ]

A GROCER, doing business, was yesterday asked to trust a colored man one day for a quart of strawberries.

“Can’t do it—you’d never pay,” he replied.

"I’ll pay de money afore eight o’clock in de mawnin’,” “I’ll pay the money before eight o’clock in the morning,” earnestly continued the colored man.

“Perhaps you might, but I don’t believe it. If you have no money now, how will you have any then?”

“Don’t ask me boss—I’ll have de cash, suah. Ize just perspiring to death for de want of strawberries.” “Don’t ask me boss—I’ll have the cash, sure. I is just perspiring to death for the want of strawberries."

“Does any one owe you?” asked the grocer.

“No, sah.” “No, sir.”

“Then how do you expect to get any money?”

“Oh, de pay will be all right.” “Oh, the pay will be all right.”

“I guess not. You’ll have to try some one else.”

“Boss, you hez pinned me right down to cold facts,” “Boss, you has pinned me right down to cold facts,” said the customer. “I want strawberries, and dey hez got to come, and derefore, let me say dat I wasn’t going out to-night to steal chickens an’ sell ‘em to get money.” “I want strawberries, and they has got to come, and therefore, let me say that I wasn’t going out to-night to steal chickens and sell them to get money.”

“Ah, you wasn’t?”

"No, sah, ‘cause I dun made a clean sweep of a coop in last night, an’ dey’ll be sold to a butcher dis evening. Dat’s de cold fact, massa, an’ now wrap up dem strawberries, an’ doan abuse my confidence.” “No, sir, ‘cause I done made a clean sweep of a coop in last night, and they’ll be sold to a butcher this evening. That’s the cold fact, master, and now wrap up them strawberries, and don’t abuse my confidence.”

DARKEY PRUDENCE.

A NEGRO grubbing out a stump near a meadow fence was heard thus cogitating;—

“I’se gwine to git fifty cents for taking dis yere stump out, an’ I’se been workin’ at it nigh ‘bout a week, I reckon. I ‘spects I could finish it to-morrer, but I reckon I won’t do it afore Friday, fur de pint am heah: If I finish it to-morrer ‘an git my money, I’ll be bound to drap down to de town an’ bet on a hoss-race an’ lose it all. Ef I wait til Friday, I kin hab de means of gwine inter de circus. I knows my weakness, an’ so I’ze gwine to sot heah and’ dig a leetle an’ sleep a leetle an’ chop off de las’ root when I heah de circus ho’ns blowin’ on top de hill.” “I’m going to get fifty cents for taking this here stump out, and I as been working at it nigh about a week, I reckon. I suspects I could finish it tomorrow, but I reckon I won’t do it before Friday, for the point am here: If I finish it tomorrow and get my money, I’ll be bound to drop down to the town and bet on horse race and lose it all. If I wait until Friday, I can have the means of going into the circus. I knows my weakness, and so I is going to sit here and dig a little and sleep a little and chop off the last root when I hear the circus horns blowing on top the hill.”


darkeydrolleries.026.jpg

THE RABBIT SUCCEEDS IN RAISING A DUST.

In dem times In them times (said Uncle Remus, gazing admiringly at himself in a fragment of looking-glass), Brer Rabbit, en Brer Fox, en Brer Coon, en dem’ yuter beas’s go co’tin en sparklin’ ‘roun’ de naberhood mo’ samer dan folks. ‘Twan’t no ‘ Lemme a hos,’ ner’ yo fetch me my buggy,’ but dey des up ‘n lit out en tote deys. Dar’s ole Brer Fox, he des wheel ‘roun’ en fetch his flank one swipe wid ‘is tongue en he’d be kem up; en Brer Rabbit, he des twis’ his han ‘roun’ ‘mongst de roots un his yerrs en his ha’r’d be reach. Dey wuz dat flirtasbus Brer Rabbit, and Brer Fox, and Brer Coon, and them other beasts go courting and sparkling around the neighborhood more samer than folks. ‘There wasn’t no 'Let me a horse,' nor "you fetch me my buggy,’ but they just up and lit out and tote theirs. There’s old Brer Fox, he just wheel around and fetch his flank one swipe with his tongue and he’d be come up; and Brer Rabbit, he just twist his hand around amongst the roots on his ears and his hair would be reach. They was that flirtacious (continued the old man, closing one eye at his image in the glass) peace fum one week een’ ter de udder. Chuseday wuz same as Sunday, en Friday have chicken-fixins fer dinner, in ‘ud drap Brer Fox en Brer Possum, en w’en she’d have fried greens in ‘ud pop ole Brer Rabbit, twel ‘las’ Miss Meadows, she tuck’n tell de gals dat she be dad-blame ef she gwineter keep no tavvun. ‘Las’, one Sat’day evenin’, de whole caboodle un um ‘ud go down de road a piece, whar der wuz a big flint rock, en de man w’at could take a sludge-hammer en knock de dus’ out’n dat rock, he wuz de man w’at ‘ud git de pick er de gals. Dey all say dey gwine do it, but ole Brer Rabbit, he crope off whar der wuz a cool place under some jimson weeds, en dar he sot wukkin his mind how he gwineter git dus’ out’n dat rock. Bimeby, w’ile he wuz a settin’ dar, up he jump en crack his heels tergedder en sing out: peace from one weekend to the other. Tuesday was same as Sunday, and Friday have chicken-fixings for dinner, in would drop Brer Fox and Brer Possum, and when she’d have fried greens in would pop old Brer Rabbit, until at last Miss Meadows, she took and tell the gals that she be dad-blame if she going to keep no tavern. Last, one Saturday evening, the whole caboodle of them would go down the road a piece, where there was a big flint rock, and the man what could take a sledge-hammer and knock the dust out of that rock, he was the man what would get the pick of the gals. They all say they going do it, but old Brer Rabbit, he crept off where there was a cool place under some jimson weeds, and there he sot working his mind how he going to get dust out of that rock. By and by, while he was a setting there, up he jump and crack his heels together and sing out:

“Make a bow ter de Buzzard en den ter de Crow, “Make a bow to the Buzzard and then to the Crow, Takes a limber-toe gemmun fer ter jump Jim Crow,” Takes a limber-toe gentleman for to jump Jim Crow,”

en wid dat he put out for Brer Coon house en borrer his easy slippers. W’en Sat’day evenin’ come, dey wuz all dere. Miss Meadows en de gals, dey wuz dere; en ole Brer Rabbit, he wuz dere, but he shuffle up kinder late, kaze w’en Miss Meadows en de ballunce un um done gone down ter de place, Brer Rabbit, he crope ‘roun’ ter de ash-hopper, en fill Brer Coon slippers full er ashes, en den he tuck’n put um on en march off. He got dar atter ‘w’ile, en soon’s Miss Meadows en de gals seed ‘im dey up’n giggle, en make a great ‘miration kaze Brer Rabbit got on slippers. Brer Fox, he so smart, he snickers out, but never mine dat, old Brer Rabbit, he wuz dar, en he so brash dat leetle mo’ en he’d er grab up de sludge- hammer en er open up de racket ‘fo’ ennybody gun de word; but Brer Fox, he shove Brer Rabbit out’n de way en pick up de sludge hisse’f. Now den (continued the old man, with pretty much the air of one who had been the master of similar ceremonies) de progance wuz dish yer : Eve’y gent wer ter have th’ee licks at de rock, en de gent w’at fetch de dus’ he wer de one w’at gwineter take de pick er de gals. and with that he put out for Brer Coon house and borrow his easy slippers. When Saturday evening come, they was all there. Miss Meadows and the gals, they was there; and old Brer Rabbit, he was there, but he shuffle up kind of late, cause when Miss Meadows and the balance of them done gone down to the place, Brer Rabbit, he crept around to the ash-hopper, and fill Brer Coon slippers full of ashes, and then he tuck’n put um on and march off. He got there after awhile, and soon as Miss Meadows and the gals seen him they up and giggle, and make a great admiration cause Brer Rabbit got on slippers. Brer Fox, he so smart, he snickers out, but never mind that, old Brer Rabbit, he was there, and he so brash that little more and he’d there grab up the sledge- hammer and there open up the racket before anybody gun the word; but Brer Fox, he shove Brer Rabbit out of the way and pick up the sledge himself. Now then (con- tinued the old man, with pretty much the air of one who had Every gent were to have three licks at the rock, and the gent what fetch the dust he were the one what going to take the pick of the gals.

Ole Brer Fox, he grab de sludge-hammer, he did, en he come down on de rock — blim! No dus’ain’t come. Den he draw back aen down he come ag’in — blam! No dus’ ain’t come. Den he spit in his han’s, en give ‘er a big swing en down she come — ker-blap! En yit no dus’ ain’t flew’d. Old Brer Fox, he grab the sledge-hammer, he did, and he come down on the rock — blim! No dust ain’t come. Then he draw back and down he come again — blam! No dust ain’t come. Then he spit in his hands, and give her a big swing and down she come — ker-blap! And yet no dust ain’t flown.

Den Brer Possum he make trial, en Brer Coon, en all de ballunce un um ‘cep’ Brer Tarrypin, en he ‘low dat he got a crick in his neck. Then Brer Possum he make trial, and Brer Coon, and all the balance of them except Brer Tarrypin, and he bellow that he got a crick in his neck.

Den Brer Rabbit, he grab holt er de sludge, en he lipt up in de a’r en come down on de rock all at de same time — pow! — en de ashes, dey flew’d up so, dey did, dat Brer Fox, he tuck’n had a sneezin ‘spell, en Miss Meadows en de gals dey up’n koff. Th’ee times Brer Rabbit jump up en crack his heels tergedder en come down wid de sludge-hammer — ker-blam ! — en eve’y time he jump up, he holler out: Then Brer Rabbit, he grab hold of the sledge, and he leapt up in the air and come down on the rock all at the same time — pow! — and the ashes, they flew up so, they did, that Brer Fox, he took and had a sneezing spell, and Miss Meadows and the gals they up and cough. Three times Brer Rabbit jump up and crack his heels together and come down with the sledge-hammer — ker-blam ! — and every time he jump up, he holler out:

“Stan’ fudder, ladies! Yer come de dus’!” en sho nuff, de dus come. Dat’s “Stand further, ladies! Here come the dust!” and sure enough, the dust come. That’s


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how Brer Rabbit got one er de gals, en dey had a weddin’. I did year tell un ‘er name, but look like I done gone en fergit it off’n my mine. Ef I don’t disremember, hit wuz Miss Molly Cottontail, en I speck we better let it go at dat. how Brer Rabbit got one of the gals, and they had a wedding. I did here tell one her name, but look like I done gone and forgot it off my mind. If I don’t misre- member, hit was Miss Molly Cottontail, and I suspect we better let it go at that.

THE DARKEY’S FONDNESS FOR FINE LANGUAGE.

THE most fashionable watering-place in America, Saratoga, has lost one of its most notable characters in the recent death from paralysis, of Professor Henry Gwinn, the master of ceremonies at the United States’ Hotel. He was a pretty mulatto, with the manners of a Sir Charles Grandison and polysyllabic vocabu- lary equally adored by his race, and removed from this brusque age. Every visitor at the house knew him, and everybody liked him, and a good deal of genuine sorrow is being expressed at his loss. His tract was as wonderful as his language, and the gorgeous style of a dress he adopted on state occasions. It is related of him that once last summer, a man noticing another smoking in a forbidden place, the ladies veranda, called Gwinn’s attention to this transgression of the rules. The latter approached the smoker in his blandest manner and in a moment the cigar was gone, and evidently no offence was felt at the rebuke. “What did you say to him, Gwinn?” was asked. “I told him,” he replied, “that the snowy columns of pernicious nicotine were unused to rise and break on this reverberating piazzer.”

In the same hotel was a female, a colored cook, who says she graduated at a “female cemetery,” and who gives up much of her time to perusing the precipice (recipe?) book.

A few mornings after entering private service, the cook, whose name is Mandy, was told to make some cake. A short time afterwards she appeared in the parlour with the cook book in her hands, and said:

“I wants yer to send right off to the store and get some latter to put in de cake.” “I wants you to send right off to the store and get some latter to put in the cake.”

“Some what?” inquired her new mistress.

“Some latter."

“Latter?”

“Yes, latter. I’se done tole yer four times.” “Yes, latter. I’ve done told you four times.”

“In the name of common sense, what is latter?”

“I dunno what hit am. But this heah book reads dat a cup ful ob de latter should be put in de cake to make hit best.” “I don’t know what it am. But this here book reads that a cup full of the latter should be put in the cake to make hit best.”

The lady took the book out of the cook’s hand, and at the place indicated, read:

“Mix up the dough with a cup of water, or of sweet milk, but the latter is the best.”

The cook subsided, and perhaps confined her hifalutin language to her own circle, very likely inculcating her phraseology on her “ole man,” for that estimable dusky party was heard the other day to ask a bookseller: The cook subsided, and perhaps confined her highfaluting language to her own circle, very likely inculcating her phraseology on her “old man,” for that estimable dusky party was heard the other day to ask a bookseller:

“Hez yew enny antelopes?” Has you any antelopes?”

“This is not the market,” said the exquisite youth who presided at the stationary counter. “If you wish to purchase game you will find it there.”

>“Look-a-heagh, young man,” retorted the sable customer, “yew is jist a leetle tew fresh; and yer needn’t try ter make game ob me! I knows wat I wants an’ ” —here pulled out a folded sheet of letter paper, soiled, and crumpled — “yew jest tote out a antelope to fit that ar billy-dukes.” He got it immediately. “Look-a-here, young man,” retorted the sable customer, “you is just a little too fresh; and you needn’t try to make game on me! I knows what I wants and ” —here pulled out a folded sheet of letter paper, soiled, and crumpled — “you just tote out a antelope to fit that there billet-doux.” He got it immediately.

HE HAD WORKED HIMSELF INTO HIS CONFIDENCE

JIM WEBSTER is one of the most upright negroes in Texas, and yet he is peculiar. Not long since he brought a large package of coffee to the store of a white neighbour, and said:

“I bought dis coffee ob Mr. Hotchkins, an’ I jess knows he has cheated me outen more dan a whole pound in de weight. I jess kin feel de lightness. Dar “I bought this coffee off Mr. Hotchkins, and I just knows he has cheated me out of more than a whole pound in the weight. I just can feel the lightness. There
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should be ten pounds, an’ I’se sho dar’s not more dan eight pounds. He fixes his scales ter cheat poor cullud folks what hain’t got no sense.” should be ten pounds, and I’m sure there’s not more than eight pounds. He fixes his scales to cheat poor colored folks what haven’t got no sense.”

The white neighbor took the package, and, after weighing it carefully on his scales, said:

You are mistaken, Jim. He has given you a pound and a half too much. There are eleven pounds and a half in the package instead of ten.”

“Yer don’t say so, boss. I was so sartin dat he was gibben me light weight, dat, unbeknownest to him, jess to git eben, I lifted off de shelf a par ob fine boots, wuff six dollars, ter balance de account.” “You don’t say so, boss. I was so certain that he was given me light weight, that, unbeknownst to him, just to get even, I lifted off the shelf a pair of fine boots, worth six dollars, to balance the account.”

“Well, now, you see that he hasn’t cheated you, I suppose you will do what is right.”

“You bet I will, boss. I’se gwine right back ter dat store ter do what’s right.” “You bet I will, boss. I’m going right back to that store to do what’s right.”

“Are you going to return the boots?”

“No, boss. I’se a poor niggah, ef I is honest. I can’t afford ter make anybody a present ob sich a high-priced par ob boots, but I’me gwine ter gib him back dat extra pound and a half ob coffee. I admires liberality, I does, an’ from now I’se gwine ter do all my tradin with him, now that he has worked hisself inter my confidence. He shan’t lose nuffin by my honesty ef I kin help it.” “No, boss. I’m a poor nigger, if I is honest. I can’t afford to make anybody a present of such a high-priced par of boots, but I’m going to give him back that extra pound and a half of coffee. I admires liberality, I does, and from now I’m going to do all my trading with him, now that he has worked himself into my confidence. He shall lose nothing by my honesty if I can help it.”

REMUS IN RIVALRY OF FOOTE’S RIGMAROLE.

OLE M’er Jackson, fines’ confraction, fell down sta’rs fer to git satisfaction; big Bill Fray, he rule de day, eve’ything he call fer come one, two by three. Gwine ‘long next day, met Johnny Huby, ax him grine nine yards er gravy fer doors; knock ‘im ninety-nine miles under water, w’en he rise, he rise in oder country straddle un a hanspike, en I lef’ ‘im dar smokin’ er de hornpipe, Juba reda seda breda. Aunt Kate at de gate; I want to eat, she fry de meat en gimme skin, w’ich I fling it back agin. Juba! OLD Mister Jackson, finds confraction, fell down stairs for to get satisfaction; big Bill Fray, he rule the day, everything he call for come one, two by three. Going along next day, met Johnny Huby, ask him grind nine yards of gravy for doors; knock him ninety-nine miles under water, when he rise, he rise in other country straddle on a handspike, and I left him dar smoking on the hornpipe, Juba reda seda breda. Aunt Kate at the gate; I want to eat, she fry the meat and give skin, which I fling it back again. Juba!

WHAT MADE HIM TIRED.

[illustration - ]

HERE was quite a crowd at a fête, where men are allowed to throw leather balls at the dummy of a negro for five cents a shot, receiving twenty- five cents in return when the dummy is hit. When the fun was at its height, some boys came in and proposed to the colored man who looks after the game, that if he would take the place of the dummy, they would give him ten cents for every chance. The negro assented, and said that as far as he was concerned they could all fire away at once. The boys agreed, and put up a job on the negro by ripping open the leather and putting a good sized stone in each ball. Thus armed, they opened fire on the darkey, and for a while the scene was very animated. The darkey began to dodge about, but presently was hit six or seven times in the head. During this trying experience he never lost his temper, but continued to present a double row of glistening teeth to the enemy. Finally a heavier ball than the rest hit him between the eyes and knocked him clean off his pins. When he rose he walked to the proprietor of the shop, with


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“Boss, guess I’s going to quit.” Boss, guess I’m going to quit.”

“Balls too hard?” queried a bystander.

“No, sah. Dis nig don’t mind that. It’s just dodgin’ of the balls that makes my neck lame.” “No, sir. This nig don’t mind that. It’s just dodging of the balls that makes my neck lame.”

A BLACK DONE “BROWN.”

[illustration - ]

ONE John Brown, a Boston minstrel, and Ned Gray, a jig dancer, and rival of Johnny Diamond, were inseperable companions. Once they returned to the Hub from a fly-by-night “snap,” financially demoralized. Their first morning in the city found the minstrels much in need of a “reviver.” Finding the price of a drink in his pocket, Ned Gray slid away and partook silently. In leaving the saloon he came face to face with Brown.

“I say, Ned,” said Brown, “I’ve got money enough to get but one drink; but I like to do the thing up in style. I’ll ask you to drink, and you’ll refuse, then the barkeeper won’t drop to it that we are so hard up.” The pair entered.

“Will you have a drink, Ned?” asked Brown.

“We-e-l,” hesitated Gray, but not too long.

“I don’t care if I do. Give me a cocktail.”

Brown’s face was a picture to contemplate, as he said, with a sigh:

“I’m not feeling very well this morning; I guess I won’t drink.”

Here we have a joke and a man. The joke is very old. It is bald and toothless. It must be about one thousand years old. The man wears a big diamond and a shiny hat. He is a negro minstrel. Go and give the old, old joke to him, and he will take care of it very tenderly. It is his business. He gets forty dollars a week for it.

Three youngsters went to church last Sunday, and when they came home their papa asked them what they thought about during the sermon. The eldest said he thought about his mother whipping him; the next one said he thought about his dinner; little Daisy was the youngest.

“And what did you think about, pet?” asked the father.

“Oh,” said the little one, stretching her small arms out with a weary gesture, “I fought I should die!”

"For Heaven’s sake, give that man a nutcracker,” said a lady at a hotel, to a waiter, pointing to a gentlemen who was cracking hickory nuts with his teeth. “I don’t want it,” replied the stranger, “these nuts are so hard I’m afraid I shall break it,” and he munched another nut between his teeth.

A voter deficient in beauty said to a candidate, “I mean to withdraw my countenance from you,” “Many thanks for the favor,” replied the candidate, “for it’s the ugliest mug I ever saw.”

A GRADUAL FALL IN PRICE.

A COLOURED man was leading a tame fox around the market by a chain yesterday in the endeavour to find a purchaser, and a gentleman finally asked:


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“What is the animal good for anyway?”

“Jist as good as an elephant,” was the reply. “He’s good fur people to look at.” “Just as good as an elephant,” was the reply. “He’s good for people to look at.”

“What do you ask for him?”

“Fifty dollars.”

“Fifty dollars! Why, who ever heard of such a price!”

The man was moving away when the fox-owner called to him:

“Doan’ you want him?” “Don’t you want him?”

“No, sir!”

“Well, doan’ git skeered ‘cause I said fifty dollars. I sot dat figger so as to gin ye a chance to beat me down to ten shillings, an’ den if you hung on I was gwine to drap to seventy-five cents, an’ from in de chain.” “Well, don’t get scared because I said fifty dollars. I sot dat figger so as to gin ye a chance to beat me down to ten shillings, an’ den if you hung on I was gwine to drap to seventy-five cents, an’ frow in from the chain.”

A man and his wife are inspecting the remains of the dinner of the evening before—Husband : “My dear, here is an orange which is beginning to spoil.” Wife: “Very well; put it aside for the servant.” Husband (slowly, after reexamining it): “Oh, it isn’t as bad as that yet!”

COOL REPLY

FRANK EDWARDS, the old minstrel agent, relates an experience with a company which was working its way down the Hudson River, the manager of which had made an appointment to meet him in New York City. Patiently Edwards waited but no manager came; at last, weary of waiting, he telegraphed the inquiry:

“When are you coming down?”

With but little delay there came a response, as unmistakable as if a thousand words had been employed instead of the brief —

“On the next cake of ice!”

MR. RABBIT FINDS HIS MATCH AT LAST.

IN dem days w’en de beastesses wuz santer’n ‘roun’ same like fokes, none un um wuz brash nuff fer ter ketch up wid Brer Rabbit (remarked Uncle Remus, re- flectively). Well, den, dar’s whar my ‘membunce gin out’ kaze Brer Rabbit did git kotched up wid, en hit cool ‘im off like po’in spring water on one er deze yer biggity fires. IN them days when the beasts was sauntering around like folks, none of them was brash enough for to catch up with Brer Rabbit (remarked Uncle Remus, reflectively). Well, then, there’s where my remembrance gone out 'cause Brer Rabbit did get catched up with, and it cool him off like pouring spring water on one of these here biggity fires.

One day w’en Brer Rabbit wuz gwine lippity-clippitin’ down de road, he meet up wid ole Brer Tarrypin, en atter dey pass de time er day wid wunner nudder, dey keep on talkin’, dey did, twel bimeby dey gotter ‘sputin’ ‘bout w’ich wuz de swif’es’. Brer Rabbit, he say he kin outrun Brer Tarrypin, en Brer Tarrypin, he des vow dat he kin outrun Brer Rabbit. Up en down dey had it, twel fus news you know Brer Tarrypin say he got a fifty-dollar bill in de chink er de chimbly at home, en dat bill done tole ‘im dat he could beat Brer Rabbit in a fa’r race. Den Brer Rabbit say he got a fifty-dollar bill w’at say dat he kin leave Brer Tarrypin so fur behime, dat he could sow barley ez he went ‘long en hit’ ud be ripe nuff fer ter cut by de time Brer Tarrypin pass dat way. One day when Brer Rabbit was going lippity-clippitin’ down the road, he meet up with old Brer Terrapin, and after they pass the time of day with one another, they keep on talking, they did, until by and by they got to disputing about which was the swiftest. Brer Rabbit, he say he can outrun Brer Terrapin, and Brer Terrapin, he just vow that he can outrun Brer Rabbit. Up and down they had it, until first news you know Brer Tarrypin say he got a fifty-dollar bill in the chink of the chimney at home, and that bill done told him that he could beat Brer Rabbit in a fair race. Then Brer Rabbit say he got a fifty-dollar bill what say that he can leave Brer Terrapin so far behind, that he could sow barley as he went along and it would be ripe enough for to cut by the time Brer Terrapin pass that way.

Enny how dey make de bet en put up de money, en ole Brer Tukky Buzzard, he wuz summonzd fer ter be de jedge, en de stakeholder; en ‘twan’t long ‘fo’ all de ‘rangements wuz made. De race wuz a five-mile heat, en de groun’ wuz mejud off, en at de een’ er ev’ey mile a pos’ wuz stuck up. Brer Rabbit wuz ter run down de big road, en Brer Tarrypin, he say he’d gallup thoo de woods. Fokes tole ‘im he could git long faster in de road, but ole Brer Tarrypin, he know w’at he doin’. Miss Meadows en de gals en mos’ all de nabers got win’ er de fun, en Any how they make the bet and put up the money, and old Brer Turkey Buzzard, he was summoned for to be the judge, and the stakeholder; and it wasn’t long before all the arrangements was made. The race was a five-mile heat, and the ground was measured off, and at the end of every mile a post was stuck up. Brer Rabbit was to run down the big road, and Brer Terrapin, he say he’d gallop through the woods. Folks told him he could get along faster in the road, but old Brer Terrapin, he know what he doing. Miss Meadows and the gals and most all the neighbors got wind of the fun, and


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w'en de day wuz sot dey ‘termin’ fer ter be on han’. Brer Rabbit he train hisse’f ev’ey day, en he skip over de groun’ des ez gayly ez a June cricket. Old Brer Tarrypin, he lay low in de swamp. He had a wife en th’ee chilluns, ole Brer Tarrypin did, en dey wuz all de ve’y image er de ole man. Annybody w’at know one fum de udder gotter take a spy-glass, en den dey er li’ble fer ter git fooled. when the day was set they determined for to be on hand. Brer Rabbit he train himself every day, and he skip over the ground just as gaily as a June cricket. Old Brer Terrapin, he lay low in the swamp. He had a wife and three children, old Brer Terrapin did, and they was all the very image of the old man. Anybody what know one from the other got to take a spy-glass, and then they are liable for to get fooled.

Dat’s de way marters stan’ twel de day er de race, en on dat day, ole Brer Tarrypin, en his ole ‘oman, en his th’ee chilluns, dey got up ‘fo sun-up, en went ter de place. De ole ‘oman, she tuck ‘er stan’ nigh de fus’ mile-pos’, she did, en de chilluns nigh de udders, up ter de las’ en dar ole Brer Tarrypin, he tuck his stan’. Bimeby, here come de fokes: Jedge Buzzard, he come, en Miss Meadows en de gals, dey come, en den yer come Brer Rabbit wid ribbbins tied ‘roun’ his neck en streamin’ fum his years. De fokes all went ter de udder een’ er de track fer ter see how dey come out. W’en de time come Jedge Buzzard strut ’roun’ en pull out his watch, en holler out: That’s the way matters stand until the day of the race, and on that day, old Brer Terrapin, and his old woman, and his three children, they got up before sun-up, and went to the place. The old woman, she took her stand near the first mile-post she did, and the children near the others, up to the last and there old Brer Terrapin, he took his stand. By and by, here come the folks: Judge Buzzard, he come, and Miss Meadows and the gals, they come, and then here come Brer Rabbit with ribbons tied around his neck and streaming from his ears. the folks all went to the other end of the track for to see how they come out. When the time come Judge Buzzard strut around and pull out his watch, and holler out:

“Gents, is you ready?”

Brer Rabbit, he say “yes,” en ole Miss Tarrypin holler “go” fum de aidge er de woods. Brer Rabbit, he lit out on de race, en ole Miss Tarrypin, she put ou- for home. Jedge Buzzard, he riz en skimmed ‘long fer ter see dat de race wuz runned fa’r. W’en Brer Rabbit got ter de fus mile-pos’ wunner de Tarrypin chil- lluns crawl out de woods, he did, en make fur de place. Brer Rabbit, he holler out: Brer Rabbit, he say “yes,” and old Miss Terrapin holler “go” from the edge of The woods. Brer Rabbit, he lit out on the race, and old Miss Terrapin, she put out for home. Judge Buzzard, he rose and skimmed along for to see that the race was ran fair. When Brer Rabbit got to the first mile-post one of the Terrapin children crawl out the woods, he did, and make fur the place. Brer Rabbit, he holler out:

“Whar is you, Brer Tarrypin?” “Where is you, Brer Terrapin?”

“Yer I come a-bulgin,”sez de Tarrypin, sezee. “Here I come a-bulgin,”says the Terrapin, says he.

Brer Rabbit so glad he’s ahead dat he put out harder dan ever, en de Tarrypin, he make fer home. W’en he come ter de nex’ pos’ nudder Tarrypin crawl out er de woods. Brer Rabbit so glad he’s ahead that he put out harder than ever, and the Tarrypin, he make for home. When he come to the next post another Terrapin crawl out of the woods.

“Whar is you, Brer Tarrypin?” sez Brer Rabbit, sezee. “Where is you, Brer Terrapin?” says Brer Rabbit, says he.

“Yer I come a-bilin’,” sez de Tarrypin, sezee. “Here I come a-bilin’,” says the Terrapin, says he.

Brer Rabbit, he lit out, he did, en come ter nex’ pos’, en dar wuz de Tarrypin, Den he come ter next’, en dar wuz de Tarrypin. Den he had one mo’ mile fer ter run, en he feel like he gittin’ bellust. Bimeby, old Brer Tarrypin look way off down de road en he see Jedge Buzzard sailin’ ‘long en he know hit’s time fer ‘im fer ter be up. So he scramble outen de woods, en roll ‘cross de ditch, en shuffle thoo de crowd er folks en git ter de mile-pos’ en crawl behime it. Bimeby, fus’ news you know, yer come Brer Rabbit. He look ‘roun’ en he don’t see Brer Tarrypin, en den he squall out: Brer Rabbit, he lit out, he did, and come to next post, and there was the Terrapin, Then he come to next, and there was the Terrapin. Then he had one more mile for to run, and he feel like he getting bellust. By and by, old Brer Terrapin look way off down the road and he see Judge Buzzard sailing along and he know it’s time for him for to be up. So he scramble out of the woods, and roll across the ditch, and shuffle through the crowd of folks and get to the mile-post and crawl behind it. By and by, first news you know, here come Brer Rabbit. He look around and he don’t see Brer Terrapin, and then he squealed out

‘Gimme de money, Brer Buzzard! Gimme de money!” ‘Give me the money, Brer Buzzard! Give me the money!”

Den Miss Meadows en de gals, dey holler and laff fit ter kill deyse’f, en ole Brer Tarrypin, he raise up fum behime de pos’ en sez, sezee: Then Miss Meadows and the gals, they holler and laugh fit to kill themselves, and old Brer Terrapin, he raise up from behind the post and says, says he:

“Ef you’ll gimme time fer ter ketch my breff, gents en ladies, one en all, I speck I’ll finger dat money myse’f,” sezee, en sho nuff, Brer Tarrypin tie de pu’s ’roun ’ his neck en skaddle off home. “If you’ll give me time for to catch my breath, gents and ladies, one and all, I suspect I’ll finger that money myself,” says he, and sure enough, Brer Terrapin tie the purse around his neck and skedaddle off home.

A SHORT ANSWER

ONCE Eph Horn was playing an engagement with a negro minstrel company where salaries were forthcoming only in daily instalments, and then in sums sufficient only to meet immediate demands of the tobacconist and washerwoman. Eph was possessed of a worthless, mongrel pup, with abbreviated pedal extremities, which he was airing with himself in front of the Minstrel Hall, while he waited the coming of the treasurer, who at length appeared and accosted Eph with:

"I say, Eph, how did that dog’s legs get to be so short?”

“Wore them off running after me around to the box office after money,” was the retort.

The witty minstrel received a full week’s salary on the strength of that reply.


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Again, while playing one of his many engagements with Dan Bryant, Eph brought upon himself, through some dereliction of duty, the displeasure of his employer, and received his walking papers with as much complacency as he would an increase in salary. It was mid-winter, and a few days after the dismissal Eph passed the Bryant’s Opera House, in front of which Dan was superintending the scattering of sawdust upon the slippery pavement.

“Holloa, Dan,” shouted Eph. “Sawdust, eh? I expected when I quit you that you would be obliged to leave the minstrel business and open a circus.” Dan relented, and restored the happy hearted old fellow to his position.

HE’S GWINE HOME TO ASTONISH DEM NATIVES! He's Going Home To Astonish Them Natives!

[illustration - ]

“GOOD-MORNING", boss,” said an aged colored man, as he framed his ebony face in the window.

“Well, uncle, what can I do for you?” said the lawyer, putting up the figures he had been pondering over.

“I come to see ‘bout that ‘spensjon.” “I come to see about that ‘pension.”

"Oh, I recollect you now. Well Moses, I’ve got a cheque for you for thirteen dollars. If you’ll take this chirographical instrument in your quintiple digits” (handing the old man a pen), “and upon the specified underfigured space circumscribed and set apart for such purposes” (handing out a paper), “you will in a legible and clearly defined manner inscribe your autograph, so that the principals of the appropriate departments at Washington will have no reasonable doubt of its genuineness, and will thus properly file it away in the archives of the Secretary of War, the money is yours!”

The aged colored citizen stood open-eyed scratching his head, and when he got a chance, he said: Major, I don’t understand nothin’ but ‘Merican language. You is born in a ‘sperior spear to dis chile, an’ I muss ask yer to put that clear.” The aged colored citizen stood open-eyed scratching his head, and when he got a Chance, he said: "Major, I don’t understand nothing but American language. You is born in a superior sphere to this child, an’ I must ask you to put that clear.”

“Well, Moses, I was talking American language.”

“What was you sayin’ Major?” “What was you saying Major?”

"Why, I simply asked you to sign your name."

“Well, now, ‘deed is dat so? Well, it cost me dollar’n haff to come up, and it cost me dollar’n’haff to go back. Gim’me three dollars, and call it squar’.” “Well, now, indeed is that so? Well, it cost me dollar and a half to come up, and it cost me dollar and a half to go back. Give me three dollars, and call it square.”

“What for?” replied the major

“Why, just larn me to say all that.” “Why, just learn me to say all that.”

“Why, what do you want to learn that for?”

“Why,” said the aged one, with a chuckle, “I want to par’lyze dem niggers down home, dat’s all.” “Why,” said the aged one, with a chuckle, “I want to paralyze them niggers down home, that’s all.”

He was finally prevailed upon to take the whole amount, and the instructions thrown in gratis, and as he left the office he was getting off the first of the speech, “Graffical instiment in your diggets,” and laughing at the “par’lyzed niggers,” his imagination conjured up. He was finally prevailed upon to take the whole amount, and the instructions thrown in gratis, and as he left the office he was getting off the first of the speech, “Graphical instrument in your digits,” and laughing at the “paralyzed niggers,” his imagination conjured up.