Part 7 (1/2)
Again the brown eyes fell.
”Atter all de chilluns done loss dey manners, dey ma's sets up lookin' at one nuther like dey loss dey las' frien'. Pres'ntly Miss Race Hoss say hit's all her fault, 'caze she had no biznes ter mix up qual'ty folks wid pig folks.
”Wid dat Sis' Cow an' Sis' Cat an' Sis' Dog speak up. 'No, Miss Race Hoss, 'tain't yo' fault, an' it 'tain't our chilluns fault, it's jes' dem pigs'
fault.' Jes' den ole Brer Bar ris' up an' clap his han's an' laff like he splittin' his sides. Miss Race Hoss look 'stonish' dat he act dat er way, an' she ax him whut ail him. Soon es Brer Bar kin stop laffin', he say: 'Youall thinks yo' chilluns ain't got no pig in 'em, does you?' den he start ter laffin' ergin. Miss Race Hoss r'ar' back herse'f an' say, 'Brer Bar, you done fergit whar 'bouts you'se at; 'member you'se 'mongst fuss cla.s.s qual'ty!' Den dey all throws dey heads back an' tu'ns dey noses up at po' Brer Bar. Brer Bar git mad den an' he stop laffin' an' say, 'Yo'
chilluns ain't de onliest uns got pig in 'em! All youall got it, too.
Ev'ybody got it. Some folks got mo' en uthers got; all dis hyah mann'rs you'se braggin' 'bout ain't nuthin' but er kiv'r ter hide de pig dat's in yer. Keep er way fum de pigs ef you don't wanter show yo' pig side.'
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”WID DAT DEY ALL UV 'EM LOSE DEY MANNERS AN' START TER 'BUSIN' BER BAR SCAND'LOUS”]
”Wid dat dey all uv 'em lose dey manners an' start ter 'busin' Brer Bar scand'lous. Sis' Cow beller' out her madness, an' Sis' Cat mew an' spit out her'n, an' Sis' Dog growl an' bark out her'n, an' Miss Race Hoss jes'
r'ar' up an' foam at de mouf.
”Brer Bar look like he fixin' ter hu't sumbody, den he amble off t'ards de woods he did, an' den tu'n hissef 'roun' an' holl'r, 'I tole yer so!'
Jes' lis'n ter all er youall right now, actin' wusser en dem pigs in de b.u.t.termilk trauff.”
”An' Brer Bar speak de trufe! An' he speak de trufe when he say all us got er pig side, too.”
”My mama ain't!”
Phyllis hesitated: ”No, I don't speck she is; dat is, ef she is, her 'ligion done wash it all out, 'caze yo' ma think' mo' 'bout ev'ybody else 'fo' she do herse'f,--but you got er pig side, an' ef you don't take keer hit'll grow ter be er hog side, too, dat you nuv'r is ter git nuff manners ter hide neither. Come on an' go finish yo' dinner, boy, an' let Mammy eat her'n.”
VI
NED DOG AND BILLY GOAT
Phyllis was dozing on the top step of the side veranda while little Willis, in the gravel walk below, was playing with a Noah's Ark. The animals were in grand parade when one of them met with an accident. Willis thought a moment, then, taking the loose ends of a string tied to one of the fuzzy toys, he climbed the steps to where Phyllis had just fallen in a peaceful nod against the pillar. He clumsily slipped the string between her open lips, and, with a slap and sputter, Mammy opened her eyes.
”Name er de Lawd, boy, whut is you tryin' ter do?”
”I want you ter be er billy goat.”
”You wants sumthin' I nuv'r is ter be. I'm willin' ter be er hoss an' on er pinch I'll be er mule, but dey ain't no time I'm willin' ter be no ole billy goat fur n.o.body.”
”Please, Mammy,” laying a hand on her cheek in an effort to pull her face to him, ”m' billy goat's got his legs broke, an' I won't have any goat if you don't be one.”
”How come you don't tu'n one dem dogs in er goat?” suggested Phyllis, her face obstinately averted.
”They haven't got any horns!”
”I ain't got no horns neether,” a.s.serted Mammy.
”But you can make some,” persisted Willis.
”You think I'm gwineter pull dis bandanner off an' roll my ole gray wool inter horns, does you?” chuckled the old nurse.
Willis nodded.
”Well, you foolin' yo'se'f, dat's all I got ter say.” But when Willis began to fret, Mammy relented: ”I tell yer dat dog won't know 'esse'f fum er goat, ef you calls him goat; 'caze I knows erbout er dog an' er goat dat can't tell t'other fum which.”