Free Joe and Other Georgian SketchesHarris, Joel Chandler
General
Free Joe and Other Georgian Sketches
Harris, Joel Chandler
Georgia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"Well, suh, I ain' walk fur 'fo' it seem like I year some un talkin'. I
stop, I did, en lissen, en still I year um. I ain' see nobody, suh, but
still I year um. I walk fus' dis away en den dat away, en den I walk
'roun' en 'roun', en den it pop in my min' 'bout de big gully. It ain'
dar now, suh, but in dem days we call it de big gully, kaze it wuz wide
en deep. Well, suh, 'fo' I git dar I see hoss-tracks, en dee led right
up ter de brink. I look in, I did, en down dar dee wuz a man en a hoss.
Yes, suh; dee wuz bofe down dar. De man wuz layin' out flat on he back,
en de hoss he wuz layin' sorter up en down de gully en right on top er
one er de man legs, en eve'y time de hoss'd scrample en try fer git up
de man 'ud talk at 'im. I know dat hoss mus' des nat'ally a groun' dat
man legs in de yeth, suh. Yes, suh. It make my flesh crawl w'en I look
at um. Yit de man ain' talk like he mad. No, suh, he ain'; en it make me
feel like somebody done gone en hit me on de funny-bone w'en I year 'im
talkin' dat away. Eve'y time de hoss scuffle, de man he 'low: 'Hol' up,
ole fel, you er mashin' all de shape out'n me.' Dat w'at he say, suh. En
den he 'low: 'Ef you know how you hurtin', ole fel, I des know you'd be
still.' Yes, suh. Dem he ve'y words.
"All dis time de rain wuz a-siftin' down. It fall mighty saft, but 'twuz
monst'ous wet, suh. Bimeby I crope up nigher de aidge, en w'en de man
see me he holler out: 'Hol' on, aunty; don't you fall down yer!'
"I ax 'im, I say: 'Marster, is you hurted much?' Kaze time I look at 'im
I know he ain' de villyun w'at make off wid my ginger-cakes. Den he
'low: 'I speck I hurt purty bad, aunty, en de wuss un it is dat my hoss
keep hurtin' me mo'.'
"Den nex' time de hoss move it errortate me so, suh, dat I holler at 'im
loud ez I ken: 'Wo dar, you scan'lous villyun! Wo!' Well, suh, I speck
dat hoss mus a-bin use'n ter niggers, kaze time I holler at 'im he lay
right still, suh. I slid down dat bank, en I kotch holter dat bridle--I
don't look like I'm mighty strong, does I, suh?" said Aunt Fountain,
pausing suddenly in her narrative to ask the question.
"Well, no," said I, humoring her as much as possible. "You don't seem to
be as strong as some people I've seen."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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