NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS.* THESE new stories are fully as
good as those which first -obtained a reputation for Uncle Remus, and perhaps the back- ground of negro character on which they are painted for us, is even more admirably brought out. Uncle Remus himself, with his thoroughly aristocratic leanings, his profound contempt for the white trash who have never owned negroes, his dislike to be caught dozing, and the imaginative way in which he ex- plains the appearance of sleep, his shrewdness in detecting the fibs of the other negroes, his jealousy when the little boy to whom he tells his tales appears to prefer any other of his second-rate or third-rate heroes to the great hero of all, " Brother Rabbit," his determination to uplift the fame of Brother Rabbit above that of either Brother Ram or Brother Terapin, or any other of the second favourites who are sometimes allowed to achieve victories over the fox and wolf and bear, and the other representa- tives of animal malice,—all these are displayed with a humour and skill that almost surpass anything we remember in the first volume of stories. For instance, what can be better than these two instances of the disgust of Uncle Remus when he is caught dozing P In the first case he has been telling stories at the bedside of his little favourite, who is ill, and after the child has -dropped off to sleep, he himself falls into a doze :—
" The little boy laughed, and then there was a long silence—so long, indeed, that Uncle Remus's Miss Sally,' sewing in the next room, concluded to investigate it. An exceedingly interesting -tableau met her sight. The little child had wandered into the laud of dreams with a smile on his face. He lay with one of his little hands buried in both of Uncle Remus's, while the old man himself was fast asleep, with his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. Miss Sally' shook him by the shoulder and held up her finger to prevent him from speaking. He was quiet until she held the lamp for him to get down the back steps, and then she heard him say, in an indignantly mortified tone : ' Now, den, Miss Sally'll be a-riggin' me 'bout noddin', but stidder dat she better be glad dat I aint has loose en sno' en 'larm de house—let 'lone dat sick baby. Dat's w'at!' "
Again, Uncle Remus is caught napping in his own cabin by his -little favourite, and this is how he turns the matter off :—
" One night, when the little boy made his usual visit to Uncle Remus, he found the old man sitting up in his chair fast asleep. The .child said nothing. He was prepared to exercise a good deal of patience upon occasion, and the occasion was when he wanted to hear a story. Bet, in making himself comfortable, he aroused Uncle Remus from his nap. let you know, honey,' said the old man, adjusting his spectacles, and laughing rather sheepishly,—'I let you know, honey, w en I Bit's my head r'ar'd back dat way, en my eye- lads shot, en my mouf open, en my chin p'intin' at de rafters, den -dey's some mighty quare gwines on in my min'. Dey is dat, des ez sho ez yoner settin' dar. W'en I fns year you comin' down de paf,' Uncle Remus continued, rubbing his beard thoughtfully, I 'uz sorter fear'd you mought 'spicion dat I done gone off on my journeys fer ter see ole man Nod.' This was accompanied by a glance of inquiry, * Nights with Uncle Remus. By Joel Chandler Harris, Author of "Uncle Remus." London : George Rontledge and Sons. 188i.
to which the little boy thought it best to respond.—' Well, Uncle Remus,' be said, I did think I heard you snoring when I came in.'— 'Now you see dat !' exclaimed Uncle Remus, in a tone of grieved astonishment ; 'you see dat ! Man can't lean Mosel 'pun his 'man- bance, 'ceppin' dey's some an fer ter come high-primin' roan', en 'lowin' dat he done gone ter sleep. Shoo ! W'en you stept in dat do' dar I 'nz right in 'mongs some mighty quare notions—mighty quare notions. Dey aint no two ways ; ef I 'uz ter up en let on 'bout all de notions w'at I gits in 'mongs, folks 'ud hatter come en kyar me off ter de place whar dey puts 'stracted people. Atter I sop up my sapper,' Uncle Remus went on, '1 tuck'n year some flutter- ments up dar 'mongs de rafters, en I look up, en dar wuz a Bat Bailin' 'roan'. 'Rona' en roan', en roan' she go—and' de rafters,13ove de rafters—en ez she sail she make noise lak she grittin"er toofies. Now, w'at dat Bat atter, I be blest of I kin tell you, but dar she was; 'roun' en 'roun', over en under. I ax 'er w'at do she want up dar, but she aint got no time for ter tell ; 'roan' en 'roan', en over en under. En bimeby, out she flip, en I boun' she grittin"er toofies an gwine 'roan' en 'roun' out dar, en dodgin' en flippin' des lak de ele- ments wuz full er rafters en cobwebs. W'en she flip out I le'nt my head back, I did, en twa'u't no time 'fo' I git mix up wid my notions. Dar Bat wings so limber en 'er will so good dat she done done 'er day's work dar 'fo' you could er run ter de big house and back. De Bat put me in min' er folks,' continued Uncle Remus, settling himself back in his chair, en folks put me in min' er de oreetars.' "
The negro literature is a very original literature. Of course, it consists chiefly in the happy fancy with which it evades the realities of life, and revels in imaginations that turn the scales against the powers of the world as they are. But in addition to this revolutionary fancy, it shows the most marvellous apt- ness in describing familiar states of mind which we all know, but cannot usually describe with anything like the same vivid- ness. Thus when Uncle Remus intends to say that he will recollect, if he can, a new tale for his little favourite, he says, " I'll sorter rustle 'roun' wid my 'munbunce, en see ef I kin call ter min' de tale 'bout how ole Brer Rabbit got 'im a two-story house widont layin' out much cash." It would be impossible to describe groping amidst confused associations more vividly than that. Again, when the child is ill and Uncle Remus has devoured his "fraitcake " with great avidity, and the child wants his mother to give the old man more, Uncle Remus protests that he will not have any more, for he didn't come there " fer ter git foundered," but to see " of somebody's streak wuz strong 'nuff fer ter stan' n'er tale." The suggestion that " foundering " might be the consequence of taking too much cake or bread, repre- sents the sort of humour of which the negro imagination appears to be specially fertile. Again, take the account of the alarm pro- duced on the cow by Brother Rabbit's appearance when he had overturned the bear's honey-pot over himself, and had vainly rolled in the dead leaves of the wood to try and wipe the honey off :—
" De his man w'at Brer Rabbit come up wid wuz old Sis Cow, en
no sooner is she lay eyes on 'im clan she h'ist up 'er tail in de elements, en put out like a pack er dogs wuz atter 'er. Dia make Brer Rabbit laff, kaze he know dat w'en a ole settle"oman like Sis Cow run 'stracted in de broad open daytime, dat dey mus' be samp'n' mighty kuse 'bout dem leafs en dat honey, en he keeps on a-racking' down de road."
A cow hoisting up her tail " into the elements " is humorous enough in itself, but when it is followed by the description of her as " a ole settle' oman," it strikes us as one of the most humour- ous touches in modern literature. Again, what can be better than Uncle Remus's general prologues ? Here is a prologue to a story, telling how the self-importance of the lion was taken down, and the general drift of it is that all self-importance is excessively vague, and exaggerates its pretensions by clothing itself in vague attributes. This notion could hardly be more admirably expressed than by the prologue, which bewilders the boy, though it excites his curiosity :— " 'Folks kin come 'long wid der watchermacollnms,' he said pre- sently, turning to the little boy, who was supplementing his supper by biting off a chew of shoemaker's-wax, en likewise dey ken fetch'roan' der watziznames. Dey kin walk biggity, en dey kin talk biggity, en m o'n dat, dey kin feel biggity, but yit all de same deyergwine ter git catch up wid. Dey go 'long en dey go long, en den bimeby yer come trouble en snatch um slonchways, en de mo' bigger w'at dey is de wusser does dey git snatched.' The little boy didn't under- stand this harangue at all, bat he appreciated it because he recognised it as the prelude to a story."
It is evident, however, that the negroes do not know their own strong points. They are best pleased with themselves, apparently, when they hit upon such a poor pan as the follow- ing, not when they really show their humour at its best. Uncle Remus is describing the destruction of a pig by a wolf :- "' Next day, ale Brer Wolf put up de same game on Little Pig; he go en he sing he song, en Little Pig, she tuck'n' let 'im in, en den Brer Wolf he tuck'n' turn de compelerments,* en let Little Pig in.
• Compliments.
Here Uncle Remus laughed long and loud at his conceit, and he took occasion to repeat it several times. 'Little Pig, she let Brer Wolf in, en Brer Wolf, he let Little Pig in, en w'at mo' kin you ax dan dat ?' " Apparently the negroes are best pleased with themselves when they hit on some joke quite outside their own proper world,—in- deed, when they have exchanged their wonderful humour for the common-place of verbal wit. Yet Uncle Remus is extremely severe on those who try to copy the smartnesses of others, and tells a capital tale to impress on his small auditor that " the whole Smarty family," who will copy the smartnesses of others, come to grief in consequence. Nor is Uncle Remus much more for- giving towards that habit of meaningless laughter which smart people so often form, than he is with the smartness itself which, as they think, justifies them in laughing so much. He is very angry with his little friend if he laughs before he ought to do so, and gives him this impressive lesson on the miserable tendency of gigglers :— "' I 'speck you done year tell er ole man Benjermun Baru,' said Uncle Remus, with a great affectation of indifference, after a pause. ' Old man who ?' asked the little boy. Old man Benjermun Ram. I 'speck you done year tell er him too long 'go ter talk 'bout!— ' Why, no, I haven't, Uncle Remus !' exclaimed the little boy, pro- testing and laughing. He must have been a mighty fanny old man.' Dat's ez may be,' responded Uncle Remus, sententiously. ' Fun deze days wouldn't er counted fer fun in dem days ; en many's de time w'at I see folks langhin" continued the old man, with such withering sarcasm that the little boy immediately became serious,- 'many's de time w'at I sees um laughin' en laughin', w'en I lay day aint kin tell w'at deyer laughin' at deyse'f. En 'taint der langhin w'at pesters me, nadder '—relenting a little—' hit's dish yer ev'lastin' snickle and giggle, giggle en snickle.'" We must give one more bit of Uncle Remus's philosophy before we conclude. 'Tildy, the negro girl, has tried her hand at telling a tale, and has succeeded fairly well, though not precisely in Uncle Remus's style. She is, however, very modest about it,— too modest, in Uncle Remus's opinion, who, as it will be seen, rebukes her for excess of self-depreciation :- "' Ah, Lord, chile !' said Uncle Remus, with the candour of an expert, ' some er dat tale you got right, en some you got wrong.'- ' Oh, I know'd 'twan't no tale like you all bin tellin',' replied 'Tildy modestly.—' Tooby sho"tis,' continued Uncle Remus, by way of encouragement; but w'iles we gwine 'long we better straighten out all do kinks dat'll b'ar straightenin"—' Goodness knows I aint fittin' ter tell no tale,' persisted 'Tildy.—' Don't run yesel down, gal,' said Uncle Remus, encouragingly ; of dey's to be any runnin' down let yuther folks do it ; en, bless yo' soul, dey'll do 'nuff un it widout waitin' for yo' lettin'.' " Excellent as the animal stories are themselves, we cannot help preferring these admirably dramatic touches of negro life in which the tales are set. On the whole, the new volume is a worthy supplement to its predecessor, if not even an improve- ment on it.
Previous page
