Free Nights with Uncle Remus by Joel Chandler Harris

Helen S. Barclay, of Darien, to Mr. W. O. Tuggle, to Hon. Charles C. Jones, Jr., to the accomplished daughters of Mr. Griswold, of Clinton, Georgia, and to Mr. John Devereux, Jr., and Miss Devereux, of Raleigh, North Carolina. J. C. H.
    Â 
    ATLANTA, GEORGIA.

Note
    To give a cue to the imagination of the reader, it may be necessary to state that the stories related in this volume are supposed to be told to a little boy on a Southern plantation, before the war, by an old family servant.

I
    Mr. Fox and Miss Goose
    It had been raining all day so that Uncle Remus found it impossible to go out. The storm had begun, the old man declared, just as the chickens were crowing for day, and it had continued almost without intermission. The dark gray clouds had blotted out the sun, and the leafless limbs of the tall oaks surrendered themselves drearily to the fantastic gusts that drove the drizzle fitfully before them. The lady to whom Uncle Remus belonged had been thoughtful of the old man, and ’Tildy, the house-girl, had been commissioned to carry him his meals. This arrangement came to the knowledge of the little boy at supper time, and he lost no time in obtaining permission to accompany ’Tildy.
    Uncle Remus made a great demonstration over the thoughtful kindness of his “Miss Sally.”
    â€œEf she aint one blessid w’ite ’oman,” he said, in his simple, fervent way, “den dey aint none un um ’roun’ in deze parts.”
    With that he addressed himself to the supper, while the little boy sat by and eyed him with that familiar curiosity common to children. Finally the youngster disturbed the old man with an inquiry:
    â€œUncle Remus, do geese stand on one leg all night, or do they sit down to sleep?”
    â€œTooby sho’ dey does, honey; dey sets down same ez you does. Co’se, dey don’t cross der legs,” he added, cautiously, “kase dey sets down right flat-footed.”
    â€œWell, I saw one the other day, and he was standing on one foot, and I watched him and watched him, and he kept on standing there.”
    â€œEz ter dat,” responded Uncle Remus, “dey mought stan’ on one foot an drap off ter sleep en fergit deyse’f. Deze yer gooses,” he continued, wiping the crumbs from his beard with his coat-tail, “is mighty kuse fowls; deyer mighty kuse. In ole times dey wuz ’mongs de big-bugs, en in dem days, w’en ole Miss Goose gun a dinin’, all de quality wuz dere. Likewise, en needer wuz dey stuck-up, kase wid all der kyar’n’s on, Miss Goose wer’n’t too proud fer ter take in washin’ fer de neighborhoods, en she make money, en get slick en fat lak Sis Tempy.
    â€œDis de way marters stan’ w’en one day Brer Fox en Brer Rabbit, dey wuz settin’ up at de cotton-patch, one on one side de fence, en t’er one on t’er side, gwine on wid one er n’er, w’en fus’ news dey know, dey year sump’n— blim, blim, blim!
    â€œBrer Fox, he ax w’at dat fuss is, en Brer Rabbit, he up’n ’spon’ dat it’s ole Miss Goose down at de spring. Den Brer Fox, he up’n ax w’at she doin’, en Brer Rabbit, he say, sezee, dat she battlin’ cloze.”
    â€œBattling clothes, Uncle Remus?” said the little boy.
    â€œDat w’at dey call it dem days, honey. Deze times, dey rubs cloze on deze yer bodes w’at got furrers in um, but dem days dey des tuck’n tuck de cloze en lay um out on a bench, en ketch holt er de battlin’-stick en natally paddle de fillin’ outen um.
    â€œW’en Brer Fox year dat ole Miss Goose wuz down dar dab-blin’ in soapsuds en washin’ cloze, he sorter lick he chops, en ’low dat some er dese odd-come-shorts he gwine ter call en pay he ’specks. De minnit he say dat, Brer Rabbit, he know sump’n ’uz up, en he ’low ter hisse’f dat he ’speck he better whirl