After while he got so weak he knowed he was gointer die. So de buzzard flew past just so—flyin’ slow you know, and said, “Un hunh, Brer Hawk, Ah told you Ah was gointer live to pick yo’ bones. Ah waits on de salvation of de Lawd.” And dat’s de way it is wid some of you young colts.”
“Heh, heh, heh! Y’all talkin’ ’bout me being old. Ah betcher Ah’ll be here when a many of y’all is gone.”
Joe Wiley said: “Less table discussion ’bout dyin’ and open up de house for new business.
Y’all want to know how come they always use raw-hide on mule, so Ah’m gointer tell you. Whenever they make a whip they gointer have raw-hide on it, if it ain’t nothin’ but de tip.
A man had a mule you know and he had a ox too. So he used to work ’em together.
Both of ’em used to get real tired befo’ knockin’ off time but dat ole ox had mo’ sense than de mule, so he played off sick.
Every day de mule would go out and work by hisself and de ox stayed in de stable. Every night when de mule come in, he’d ast, “Whut did Massa say ’bout me today?”
De mule would say, “Oh nothin’,” or maybe he’d say, “Ah heard him say how sorry he was you was sick and couldn’t work.”
De ox would laugh and go on to sleep.
One day de mule got tired, so he said, “Massa dat ox ain’t sick. ’Tain’t a thing de matter wid him. He’s jus’ playin’ off sick. Ah’m tired of doin’ all dis work by myself.”
So dat night when he got in de stable, de ox ast him. “What did Ole Massa say ’bout me today?”
Mule told him, “Ah didn’t hear him say a thing, but Ah saw him talkin’ to de butcher man.”
So de ox jumped up and said, “Ah’m well. Tell Ole Massa Ah’ll be to work tomorrow.”
But de next mornin’ bright and soon de butcher come led him off.
So he said to de mule, “If you hadn’t of told Massa on me, Ah wouldn’t be goin’ where Ah am. They’re gointer kill me, but Ah’ll always be war on yo’ back.”
And that’s why they use raw-hide on mule’s back—on account of dat mule and dat ox.”
“Oh, well, if we gointer go way back there and tell how everything started,” said Ulmer, “Ah might just as well tell how come we got gophers.”
“Pay ’tention to yo’ pole, Cliff,” Jim Allen scolded. “You gittin’ a bite. You got ’im! A trout too! If dat fool ain’t lucky wid fish!”
Old Man Jim strung the trout expertly. “Now, Cliff, you kin do all de talkin’ you want, just as long as you ketch me some fish Ah don’t keer.”
“Well,” began Cliff:
God was sittin’ down by de sea makin’ sea fishes. He made de whale and throwed dat in and it swum off. He made a shark and throwed it in and then he made mullets and shad-fish and cats and trouts and they all swum on off.
De Devil was standin’ behind him lookin’ over his shoulder.
Way after while, God made a turtle and throwed it in de water and it swum on off. Devil says, “Ah kin make one of those things.”
God said, “No, you can’t neither.”
Devil told him, “Aw, Ah kin so make one of those things. ’Tain’t nothin’ to make nohow. Who couldn’t do dat? Ah jus’ can’t blow de breath of life into it, but Ah sho kin make a turtle.”
God said: “Devil, Ah know you can’t make none, but if you think you kin make one go ’head and make it and Ah’ll blow de breath of life into it for you.”
You see, God was sittin’ down by de sea, makin’ de fish outa sea-mud. But de Devil went on up de hill so God couldn’t watch him workin’, and made his outa high land dirt. God waited nearly all day befo’ de Devil come back wid his turtle.
As soon as God seen it, He said, “Devil, dat ain’t no turtle you done made.”
Devil flew hot right off. “Dat ain’t no turtle? Who say dat ain’t no turtle? Sho it’s a turtle.”
God shook his head, says, “Dat sho ain’t no turtle, but Ah’ll blow de breath of life into it like Ah promised.”
Devil stood Him down dat dat was a turtle.
So God blowed de breath of life into what de Devil had done made, and throwed him into de water. He swum out. God throwed him in again. He come on out. Throwed him in de third time and he come out de third time.
God says: “See, Ah told you dat wasn’t no turtle.”
“Yes, suh, dat is a turtle.”
“Devil, don’t you know dat all turtles loves de water? Don’t you see whut you done made won’t stay in there?”
Devil said, “Ah don’t keer, dat’s a turtle, Ah keep a ’tellin’ you.”
God disputed him down dat it wasn’t no turtle. Devil looked it over and scratched his head. Then he says, “Well, anyhow it will go for one.” And that’s why we have gophers!
“Dat gopher had good sense. He know he was a dry-land turtle so he didn’t try to mix wid de rest. Take for instance de time they had de gopher up in court.
“De gopher come in and looked all around de place. De judge was a turtle, de lawyers was turtles, de witnesses was turtles and they had turtles for jurymen.
“So de gopher ast de judge to excuse his case and let him come back some other time. De judge ast him how come he wanted to put off his case and de gopher looked all around de room and said, ‘Blood is thicker than water,’ and escused hisself from de place.
“Yeah,” said Floyd Thomas, “but even God ain’t satisfied wid some of de things He makes and changes ’em Hisself.”
Jim Presley wanted to know what God ever changed, to Floyd’s knowledge.
Well, He made butterflies after de world wuz all finished and thru. You know de Lawd seen so much bare ground till He got sick and tired lookin’ at it. So God tole ’em to fetch ’im his prunin’ shears and trimmed up de trees and made grass and flowers and throwed ’em all over de clearin’s and dey growed dere from memorial days.
Way after while de flowers said, “Wese put heah to keep de world comp’ny but wese lonesome ourselves.” So God said, “A world is somethin’ ain’t never finished. Soon’s you make one thing you got to make somethin’ else to go wid it. Gimme dem li’l tee-ninchy shears.”
So he went ’round clippin’ li’l pieces offa everything—de sky, de trees, de flowers, de earth, de varmints and every one of dem li’l clippin’s flew off. When folks seen all them li’l scraps fallin’ from God’s scissors and flutterin’ they called ’em flutter-bys. But you know how it is wid de brother in black. He got a big mouf and a stambling tongue. So he got it all mixed up and said, “butter-fly” and folks been calling ’em dat ever since. Dat’s how come we got butterflies of every color and kind and dat’s why dey hangs ’round de flowers. Dey wuz made to keep de flowers company.
“Watch out, Cliffert!” yelled Jim Allen. “A ’gator must be on yo’ hook! Look at it! It’s dived like a duck.”
“Aw, ’tain’t nothin’ but a gar fish on it. Ah kin tell by his bite!” said Cliff.
“You pull him up and see!” Jim commanded.
Cliff hauled away and landed a large gar on the grass.
“See, Ah told you, Gran’pa. Don’t you worry. Ah’m gointer ketch you mo’ fish than you kin eat. Plenty for Mama and Gran’ma too. Less take dis gar-fish home to de cat.”
“Yeah,” said Jim Presley. “Y’ take de cat a fish, too. They love it better than God loves Gabriel—and dat’s His best angel.”
“He sho do and dat’s how cats got into a mess of trouble—’bout eatin’ fish,” added Jim Presley.
“How was dat? I done forgot if Ah ever knowed.”
“If, if, if,” mocked Jim Allen. “Office Richardson, youse always iffin’! If a frog had wings he wouldn’t bump his rump so much.”
“Gran’pa is right in wid de cats,” Cliff teased. “He’s so skeered he ain’t gointer git all de fish he kin eat, he’s just like a watch-dog when de folks is at de table. He’ll bite anybody then. Think they cheatin’ ’im outa his vittles.”
Jim Presley spat in the lake and began:
br />
Once upon a time was a good ole time—monkey chew tobacco and spit white lime.
Well, this was a man dat had a wife and five chillun, and a dog and a cat.
Well, de hongry times caught ’em. Hard times everywhere. Nobody didn’t have no mo’ then jus’ enough to keep ’em alive. First they had a long dry spell dat parched up de crops, then de river rose and drowned out everything. You could count anybody’s ribs. De white folks all got faces look lak blue-John2 and de niggers had de white mouf.3
So dis man laid in de bed one night and consulted wid his piller. Dat means he talked it over wid his wife. And he told her, “Tomorrow less git our pole and go to de lake and see kin we ketch a mess of fish. Dat’s our last chance. De fish done got so skeerce and educated they’s hard to ketch, but we kin try.”
They was at de lake bright and soon de next day. De man took de fishin’ pole hisself ’cause he was skeered to trust his wife er de chillun wid it. It was they last chance to git some grub.
So de man fished all day long till he caught seven fishes. Not no great big trouts nor mud-cats but li’l perches and brims. So he tole ’em, “Now, Ah got a fish apiece for all of us, but Ah’m gointer keep on till Ah ketch one apiece for our dog and our cat.”
So he fished on till sundown and caught a fish for the dog and de cat, and then they went on home and cooked de fish.
After de fish was all cooked and ready de woman said: “We got to have some drinkin’ water. Less go down to de spring to git some. You better come help me tote it ’cause Ah feel too weak to bring it by myself.”
So de husband got de water bucket off de shelf and went to de spring wid his wife. But ’fore he went, he told de chillun, “Now, y’all watch out and keep de cat off de fish. She’ll steal it sho if she kin.”
De chillun tole him, “Yessuh,” but they got to foolin’ ’round and playin’ and forgot all about de cat, and she jumped up on de table and et all de fish but one. She was so full she jus’ couldn’t hold another mouthful without bustin’ wide open.
When de old folks come back and seen what de cat had done they bust out cryin’. They knowed dat one li’l fish divided up wouldn’t save they lives. They knowed they had to starve to death. De man looked at de cat and he knowed dat one mo’ fish would kill her so he said, “Ah’m gointer make her greedy gut kill her.” So he made de cat eat dat other fish and de man and his wife and chillun and de dog and cat all died.
De cat died first so’s he was already in Heben when de rest of de family got there. So when God put de man’s soul on de scales to weigh it, de cat come up and was lookin’ at de man, and de man was lookin’ at de cat.
God seen how they eye-balled one ’nother so He ast de man, “Man, what is it between you and dis cat?”
So de man said, “God, dat cat’s got all our nine lives in her belly.” And he told God all about de fish.
God looked hard at dat cat for a hundred years, but it seem lak a minute.
Then he said: “Gabriel, Peter, Rayfield, John and Michael, all y’all ketch dat cat, and throw him outa Heben.”
So they did and he was fallin’ for nine days, and there ain’t been no cats in Heben since. But he still got dem nine lives in his belly and you got to kill him nine times befo’ he’ll stay dead.
Stepped on a pin, de pin bent
And dat’s de way de story went.
“Dat may be so, Presley,” commented Jim Allen, “but if Ah ketch one messin’ ’round my fish, Ah bet Ah kin knock dat man and woman and dem five chillun, de dog and de cat outa any cat Ah ever seen wid one lick.”
“Dat’s one something, Ah ain’t never gointer kill,” announced Willard forcefully. “It’s dead bad luck.”
“Me neither,” assented Sack Daddy. “Everybody know it’s nine years hard luck. Ah shot a man once up in West Florida, killed him dead for bull-dozin’ me in a skin game, and got clean away. Ah got down in de phosphate mines around Mulberry and was doin’ fine till Ah shacked up wid a woman dat had a great big ole black cat wid a white star in his bosom. He had a habit of jumpin’ up on de bed all durin’ de night time. One night Ah woke up and he was on my chest wid his nose right to mine, suckin’ my breath.
“Ah got so mad Ah grabbed dat sucker by de tail and bust his brains out aginst a stanchion. My woman cried and carried on ’bout de cat and she tole me Ah was gointer have bad luck. Man, you know it wasn’t two weeks befo’ Sheriff Joe Brown laid his hand on my shoulder and tole me, ‘Le’s go.’ Ah made five years for dat at Raiford. Killin’ cats is bad luck.”
“Talkin’ ’bout dogs,” put in Gene Oliver, “they got plenty sense. Nobody can’t fool dogs much.”
“And speakin’ ’bout hams,” cut in Big Sweet meaningly, “if Joe Willard don’t stay out of dat bunk he was in last night, Ah’m gointer sprinkle some salt down his back and sugar-cure his hams.”
Joe snatched his pole out of the water with a jerk and glared at Big Sweet, who stood sidewise looking at him most pointedly.
“Aw, woman, quit tryin’ to signify.”4
“Ah kin signify all Ah please, Mr. Nappy-chin, so long as Ah know what Ah’m talkin’ about.”
“See dat?” Joe appealed to the other men. “We git a day off and figger we kin ketch some fish and enjoy ourselves, but naw, some wimmins got to drag behind us, even to de lake.”
“You didn’t figger Ah was draggin’ behind you when you was bringin’ dat Sears and Roebuck catalogue over to my house and beggin’ me to choose my ruthers.5 Lemme tell you something, any time Ah shack up wid any man Ah gives myself de privilege to go wherever he might be, night or day. Ah got de law in my mouth.”
“Lawd, ain’t she specifyin’!” sniggered Wiley.
“Oh, Big Sweet does dat,” agreed Richardson. “Ah knowed she had somethin’ up her sleeve when she got Lucy and come along.”
“Lawd,” Willard said bitterly. “My people, my people,” as de monkey said. “You fool wid Aunt Hagar’s6 chillun and they’ll sho distriminate you and put yo’ name in de streets.”
Jim Allen commented: “Well, you know what they say—a man can cackerlate his life till he git mixed up wid a woman or git straddle of a cow.”
Big Sweet turned viciously upon the old man. “Who you callin’ a cow, fool? Ah know you ain’t namin’ my mama’s daughter no cow.”
“Now all y’all heard what Ah said. Ah ain’t called nobody no cow,” Jim defended himself. “Dat’s just an old time byword ’bout no man kin tell what’s gointer happen when he gits mixed up wid a woman or set straddle of a cow.”
“I done heard my gran’paw say dem very words many and many a time,” chimed in Larkins. "There’s a whole heap of them kinda by-words. Like for instance:
“‘Ole coon for cunnin’, young coon for runnin’,’ and ‘Ah can’t dance, but Ah know good moves.’ They all got a hidden meanin’, jus’ like de Bible. Everybody can’t understand what they mean. Most people is thin-brained. They’s born wid they feet under de moon. Some folks is born wid they feet on de sun and they kin seek out de inside meanin’ of words.”
“Fack is, it’s a story ’bout a man sittin’ straddle of a cow,” Jim Allen went on.
A man and his wife had a boy and they thought so much of him that they sent him off to college. At de end of seven years, he schooled out and come home and de old man and his ma was real proud to have de only boy ’round there dat was book-learnt.
So de next mornin’ after he come home, de ma was milkin’ de cows and had one young cow dat had never been to de pail befo’ and she used to kick every time anybody milked her.
She was actin’ extry bad dat mornin’ so de woman called her husband and ast him to come help her wid de cow. So he went out and tried to hold her, but she kept on rearin’ and pitchin’ and kickin’ over de milk pail, so he said to his wife: “We don’t need to strain wid dis cow. We got a son inside that’s been to school for seben years and done learnt everything. He’ll know jus’ what to do wid a kickin’ cow. Ah’ll go call him.” br />
So he called de boy and told him.
De boy come on out to de cow-lot and looked everything over. Den he said, “Mama, cow-kickin’ is all a matter of scientific principle. You see before a cow can kick she has to hump herself up in the back. So all we need to do is to take the hump out the cow’s back.”
His paw said, “Son, Ah don’t see how you gointer do dat. But ’course you been off to college and you know a heap mo’ than me and yo’ ma ever will know. Go ’head and take de hump outa de heifer. We’d be mighty much obliged.”
De son put on his gold eye glasses and studied de cow from head to foot. Then he said, “All we need to keep this animal from humping is a weight on her back.”
“What kinda weight do she need, son?”
“Oh, any kind of a weight, jus’ so it’s heavy enough, papa,” de son told him. “It’s all in mathematics.”
“Where we gointer git any weight lak dat, son?”
“Why don’t you get up there, papa? You’re just about the weight we need.”
“Son, you been off to school a long time, and maybe you done forgot how hard it is for anybody to sit on a cow, and Ah’m gittin’ old, you know.”
“But, papa, I can fix that part, too. I’ll tie your feet together under her belly so she can’t throw you. You just get on up there.”
“All right, son, if you say so, Ah’ll git straddle of dis cow. You know more’n Ah do, Ah reckon.”
So they tied de cow up short to a tree and de ole man got on by de hardest, 7 and de boy passed a rope under her belly and tied his papa on. De old lady tried to milk de cow but she was buckin’ and rearin’ so till de ole man felt he couldn’t stand it no mo’. So he hollered to de boy, “Cut de rope, son, cut de rope! Ah want to git down.”
Instead of de boy cuttin’ loose his papa’s feet he cut de rope dat had de cow tied to de tree and she lit out ’cross de wood wid de ole man’s feet tied under de cow. Wasn’t no way for him to git off.
De cow went bustin’ on down de back-road wid de ole man till they met a sister he knowed. She was surprised to see de man on de cow, so she ast: “My lawd, Brother So-and-so, where you goin’?”