Part 22 (2/2)
”Mister Rattlesnake didn't get any, did he?” asked Mary Van.
”Rattlesnake say Decemb'r too late fur him ter be settin' up, an' he say he'd ruth'r sleep dan go ter enny ole Crismus tree ennyhow.”
”Tishy Peafowl was too bad, too, wasn't she, Mammy?” Mary Van remembered the bad ones.
”You slip up right dar, yas, mam, you is, fur Tishy done got 'ligion an'
jine de church.”
”Did her pretty feathers grow out again?”
”No, mam! sin done eat 'em out by de roots, but de Lawd hang er mouty prutty fe'th'r coll'r on de tree fur her, jes' ter show Tish he know she tryin'.”
”And Tishy never was bad any more,” a.s.sisted Willis.
”Dat she wus, sin ketch'd up wid her er heap er times, but she recoleck 'bout de col'r, an' fight de bes' she kin, an' de Lawd doan ax fur no mo'.”
”Was Jack Donkey too bad to come?”
”Jack Donkey wusn't no wusser'n er heap uv 'em dat gits ter Crismus trees.
Jack he writ'n an' ax Sandy ter bring him er fine kiv'r so fokes can't fine out he's er donkey. Sandy, he sen' him de kiv'r wid all sort er fine doin's on hit, but whin Cap'n Goat fling hit on Jack, dar wus his b'hime legs prancin' erbout, an' his long ye'rs still er stickin' out. Cap'n Goat, he pull an' pull ter stretch de kiv'r, but hit won't stretch, den de Cap'n tell him, 'Jack,' sez he, 'long es you keeps dem b'hime foots wurkin' like you does, an' dem long ye'rs gwine ev'y which er way, yer mout jes' es well call yo'se'f donkey, 'caze no kiv'r ain' gwine stretch big nuf ter hide dem p'ints.'”
Willis pushed her knee: ”Give Cap'n Yellow Jacket and Cap'n Hornet something nice 'cause old Grab-All got all their cider,--they didn't do anything bad.”
”Lawdy, boy, dem fokes done kilt one nuth'r long ergo. Doan yer 'memb'r?
But der wid'rs got ax ter come, an' dey nev'r went, 'caze Grab-All Spid'r tryin' ter dance 'tendance fus' on one, den tuth'r uv 'em.”
”Don't let old Grab-All get any present.”
”Lawsee, I mos' fergit ter tell yer 'bout de axdent dat hap'n ter ole Grab-All, whin he come er sneakin' up de side er Mist'r Tall Pine. Ya.s.suh, Mist'r Wile Cat an' Doct'r Peck'rwood tryin' ter handle dat buckit er hot cowpeas an' pot licker fur Sis' Cow, whin de whole thing slip an' come down _blump_, on ole Grab-All.”
”Did it kill him?”
”Nor, dorter, he too mean ter die, but dat's whut he got off'n de Crismus tree.”
”Didn't Sis' Cow get some more peas?” asked Willis.
”Nor, she say her an' Brer Dur'am 'ud jes' lick up whut dey cud off'n de groun'. Sis' Cow say she willin' ter lose de peas jes' ter see ole Grab-All git fixt. I tell yer de tree lookin' mouty fine by de time ole Crismus night come. Yer see de beastes hatt'r have der doin's on ole Crismus night.”
”What's Old Christmas?”
”I donno whut 'tis, son, 'cep'n I allus heah dat twelve days atter Crismus, 'zackly at twelve erclock in de night time, all de beastes an'
creeturs falls on der knees an' glorifies de Lawd,--an' I allus heahs fokes call hit 'Ole Crismus.'”
”Birds can't kneel, Mammy Phyllis,” announced Mary Van.
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