JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS

[Joel Chandler Harris was born in Eatonton, Georgia, in 1848. He left school at the age of twelve to go to the farm of a Mr.

JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS

Turner, nine miles from Eaton

he

ton, to learn the printer's trade in connection with the publication of a newspaper. Most of his training for his future work was obtained from the books of Mr. Turner's library and from the negroes on the plantation, from whom stored his mind with their folklore. In 1876 Harris became a member of the editorial staff of the Atlanta Constitution. For this paper he wrote the negro folk tales which were gathered into the volume "Uncle Remus: his Songs and Sayings," published in 1880. This book at once gave the author a national reputation, which has been sustained by

his further volumes dealing with negro folklore and the life of Georgia country people. He died at his home, "Sign of the Wren's Nest," in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia, in 1908.]

BRER RABBIT GROSSLY DECEIVES BRER FOX

When the little boy, whose nights with Uncle Remus are as entertaining as those Arabian ones of blessed memory, had finished supper the other evening and hurried out to sit with his venerable patron, he found the old man in great glee. Indeed, Uncle Remus was talking and laughing to himself at

such a rate that the little boy was afraid he had company. The truth is, Uncle Remus had heard the child coming, and when the rosy-cheeked chap put his head in the door, was engaged in a monologue, the burden of which seemed to be:

Ole Molly Ha'r

W'at you doin' d'ar

Settin' in de cornder

Smokin' yo' seegyar?

As a matter of course, this vague allusion reminded the little boy of the fact that the wicked Fox was still in pursuit of the Rabbit, and he immediately put his curiosity in the shape of a question.

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Uncle Remus, did the Rabbit have to he got loose from the Tar-baby?"

Bless grashus, honey, dat he did n't. Who? Him? You dunno nuthin' 'tall 'bout Brer Rabbit ef dat 's de way you puttin' 'em down. W'at he gwine 'way fer? He mouter stayed sorter close 'twell de pitch rub off'n his ha'r, but 'twan't menny days 'fo' he waz lopin' up en down de naberhood same ez ever, en I dunno ef he were n't mo' sassier den befo'.

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Seem like dat de tale 'bout how he got mixt up wid de Tarbaby got 'roun' 'mongst de nabers. Leas'ways, Miss Meadows en de gals got win' un it, en de nex' time Brer Rabbit paid um a visit, Miss Meadows tackled 'im 'bout it, en de gals sot up a monst'us gigglement. Brer Rabbit, he sot up des ez cool ez a cowcumber, he did, en let 'em run on."

"Who was Miss Meadows, Uncle Remus?" inquired the little boy.

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'Don' ax me, honey. She was in de tale, en de tale I give you like hit were gun ter me. Brer Rabbit, he sot dar, he did, sorter lam❜like, en den bimeby he cross his legs, he did, en wink his eye slow en up en say, sezee:

"Ladies, Brer Fox wuz my daddy's ridin' hoss fer thirty year; maybe mo', but thirty year dat I knows un!' sezee, en den he paid 'em his 'spects, en tip his beaver, en march off, he did, des ez stiff en ez stuck up ez a fire-stick.

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Nex' day, Brer Fox cum callin', en w'en he gun fer ter laff 'bout Brer Rabbit, Miss Meadows en de gals, dey ups en tells 'im 'bout w'at Brer Rabbit said. Den Brer Fox grit his toof sho' nuff, he did, en he look mighty dumpy, but w'en he riz fer ter go, he up en say, sezee:

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'Ladies, I ain't 'sputin' w'at you say, but I'll make Brer Rabbit chaw up his words en spit um out right here whar you kin see 'im,' sezee, en wid dat off Brer Fox marcht.

"En w'en he got in de big road, he shuck de dew off'n his tail, en made a straight shoot fer Brer Rabbit's house. W'en he got dar, Brer Rabbit wuz 'spectin' un 'im, en de do' was shet fas'. Brer Fox knock. Nobody never ans'er. Brer Fox knock. Nobody ans'er. Den he knock ag'in-blam, blam. Den Brer Rabbit holler out mighty weak:

Is dat you, Brer Fox? I want you to run fer ter fetch de doctor. Dat bait er pusly w'at I et dis mawnin' is gittin' 'way wid me. Do please run quick, Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit,

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sezee.

"I come atter you, Brer Rabbit,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. Dere's gwineter be a party over at Miss Meadows's,' sezee. *All de gals 'll be dere, en I promus' dat I'd fetch you. De gals, dey 'lowed dat hit would n't be no party 'ceppin' I fotch you,' sez Brer Fox, sezee.

he

"Den Brer Rabbit say he was too sick, en Brer Fox say wuzzent, en dar dey had it up and down, 'sputin' en contendin'. Brer Rabbit say he could n't walk. Brer Fox say he'd tote 'im. Brer Rabbit say how? Brer Fox say in his arms. Brer Rabbit say he'd drap 'im. Brer Fox 'low he would n't. Bimeby, Brer Rabbit say he'd go ef Brer Fox tote 'im on his back. Brer Fox

say he would. Brer Rabbit say he could n't ride widout a saddle. Brer Fox say he'd git de saddle. Brer Rabbit say he could n't set in de saddle less he had bridle fer ter hol' by. Brer Fox say he'd git de bridle. Brer Rabbit say he could n't ride widout bline-bridle, kaze Brer Fox 'd be shyin' at stumps 'long de road, en fling 'im off. Brer Fox say he'd git de bline-bridle. Den Brer Rabbit say he'd go. Den Brer Fox say he'd ride Brer Rabbit mos' up ter Miss Meadows's en den he could git down en walk de balance er de way. Brer Rabbit 'greed, en den Brer Fox lipt out atter de saddle en bridle.

"Co'se Brer Rabbit know'd de game dat Brer Fox wuz fixin' fer ter play, en he 'termined fer ter outdo 'im, en by de time he koam his ha'r en twis' his mustash, en sorter rig up, here come Brer Fox, saddle en bridle on, en lookin' ez peart ez a circus pony. He trot up ter de do' en stood dar pawin' de groun' en chompin' de bit same like sho' nuff hoss, en Brer Rabbit he mounted, he did, en dey amble off. Brer Fox could n't see behine wid de bline-bridle on, but bimeby he feel Brer Rabbit raise one er his foots.

"'W'at you doin't now, Brer Rabbit?' sezee.

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*** Short'nin' de lef' stir'p, Brer Fox,' sezee.

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Bimeby, Brer Rabbit raise up de udder foot. ***W'at you doin't now, Brer Rabbit?' sezee. ** Pullin' down my pants, Brer Fox,' sezee.

"All de time, bless grashus, honey, Brer Rabbit were puttin' on his spurrers en w'en dey got close to Miss Meadows's, whar Brer Rabbit wuz to git off, en Brer Fox made a motion fer ter put on brakes, Brer Rabbit slap de spurrers inter Brer Fox's flanks, en you better b'leeve he got over groun'. W'en dey got ter de house, Miss Meadows en all de gals wuz er settin' on de peazzer, en 'stidder stoppin' at de gate, Brer Rabbit rid on by, he did, en come gallopin' down de road en up ter de hoss rack, w'ich he hitch Brer Fox at, en den he santer inter de house,

he did, en shake han's wid de gals en set dar smokin' his seegyar same ez town man. Bimeby, he draw in long puff en den let hit out in er cloud, en squar' hisse'f back, en holler out, he did:

***Ladies, ain't I done tell you Brer Fox wuz de ridin' hoss fer our fambly? He's sorter losin' his gait now, but I 'speck I kin fetch 'im all right in a mont' er so,' sezee.

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En den Brer Rabbit smile, he did, en de gals giggle, en Miss Meadows, she praise up de pony, en dar wuz Brer Fox hitch fas' ter de rack en could n't he'p hisse'f."

"Is that all, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy as the old man paused.

“Dat ain't all, honey, but 't won't do fer to give out too much cloff fer ter cut one pa'r pants," replied the old man sententiously.

THE CUNNING FOX IS AGAIN VICTIMIZED

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When Miss Sally's" little boy went to Uncle Remus the next night to hear the conclusion of the adventure in which the Rabbit made a riding horse of the Fox to the great enjoyment and gratification of Miss Meadows and the girls, he found the old man in a bad humor.

"I ain't tellin' no tales ter bad chilluns," said Uncle Remus, curtly.

But, Uncle Remus, I ain't bad," said the little boy, plaintively.

Who dat chunkin' dem chickens dis mawnin'? Who dat knockin' out fokes's eyes wid dat Yaller-bammer sling des 'fo' dinner? Who dat sickin' dat pinter puppy atter my pig? Who dat scatterin' my ingun sets? Who dat flingin' rocks on top er my house, w'ich a little mo' en one un um would er drapt spang on my head?"