BRER TERRAPIN AND BRER BUZZARD 
“Ef you’d er bin outer de house dat whack, you’d er tuck us 
all in. Pity dey ain’t some place er ’n’er whar deze yer trollops 
kin go en l’arn manners.” 
’Tildy, however, ignored the old man, and, with a toss of her 
head, said to the little boy in a cool, exasperating tone, employing 
a pet name she had heard the child’s mother use: — 
“Well, Pinx, I ’speck we better go. De rain done mos’ hilt up 
now, en bimeby de stars’ll be a-shinin’. Miss Sally lookin’ fer 
you right now.” 
“You better go whar you gwine, you triflin’ huzzy, you!” 
exclaimed Uncle Remus. “You better go git yo’ Jim Crow kyard 
en straighten out dem wrops in yo’ ha’r. I allers year w’ite folks 
say you better keep yo’ eye on niggers w’at got der ha’r wrop up 
in strings. Now I done gun you fa’r warnin’s.” 
“Uncle Remus,” said the little boy, when the old man’s wrath 
had somewhat subsided, “why do they call them Jim Crow 
cards?” 
“I be bless ef I know, honey, ’ceppin’ it’s kaze dey er de onliest 
machine w’at deze yer low-life niggers kin oncomb der kinks wid. 
Now, den,” continued the old man, straightening up and speak¬ 
ing with considerable animation, “dat ’min’s me ’bout a riddle 
w’at been runnin’ ’roun’ in my head. En dat riddle — it’s de 
outdoin’es’ riddle w’at I mos’ ever year tell un. Hit go lak dis: 
Ef he come, he don’t come; ef he don’t come, he come. Now, I 
boun’ you can’t tell w’at is dat.” 
After some time spent in vain guessing, the little boy confessed 
that he did n’t know. 
“Hit’s crow en co’n,” said Uncle Remus sententiously. 
“Crow and corn, Uncle Remus?” 
“Co’se, honey. Crow come, de co’n don’t come; crow don’t 
come, den de co’n come.” 
“Dat’s so,” said ’Tildy. “I done see um pull up co’n,en I done 
see co’n grow w’at dey don’t pull up.” 
63 
