NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS 
have been a great deal nicer if Mr. Benjamin Ram could have 
played one of the old-time tunes on his fiddle, and while he was 
thinking about it, the door opened and Aunt Tempy made her 
appearance. Her good-humor was infectious. 
“Name er goodness!” she exclaimed, “I lef’ you all settin’ yer 
way las’ week; I goes off un I does my wuk, un I comes back, un 
I fines you settin’ right whar I lef you. Goodness knows, I 
dunner whar you gits yo’ vittles. I dunner whar I ain’t bin sence 
I lef’ you all settin’ yer. I let you know I bin a-usin’ my feet un I 
been a-usin’ my han’s. Dat’s me. No use ter ax how you all is, 
’kaze you looks lots better’n me.” 
“Yas, Sis Tempy, we er settin’ yer whar you lef’ us, en der 
Lord, he bin a-pervidin’. W’en de vittles don’t come in at de do’ 
hit come down de chimbly, en so w’at de odds? We er sorter 
po’ly, Sis Tempy, I’m ’blige ter you. You know w’at de jay-bird 
say ter der squinch owl! ‘I’m sickly but sassy.’” 
Aunt Tempy laughed as she replied: “I ’speck you all bin 
a-havin’ lots er fun. Goodness knows I wish many a time sence 
I bin gone dat I ’uz settin’ down yer runnin’ on wid you all. 
I ain’t bin gone fur — dat’s so, yit Mistiss put me ter cuttin’-out, 
un I tell you now dem w’at cuts out de duds fer all de niggers on 
dis place is got ter wuk fum soon in de mawnin’ plum tel bed¬ 
time, dey ain’t no two ways. ’T ain’t no wuk youk’n kyar’ ’bout 
wid you needer, ’kaze you got ter spread it right out on de flo’ 
un git down on yo’ knees. I mighty glad I done wid it, ’kaze my 
back feel like it done broke in a thous’n pieces. Honey, is Brer 
Remus bin a-tellin’ you some mo’ er dem ole-time tales?” 
Aunt Tempy’s question gave the little boy an excuse for giving 
her brief outlines of some of the stories. One that he seemed to 
remember particularly well was the story of how Brother Rabbit 
and Brother Fox killed a cow, and how Brother Rabbit got the 
most and the best of the beef. 
“I done year talk uv a tale like dat,” exclaimed Aunt Tempy, 
250 
