Democratic Sentinel, Volume 22, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 November 1898 — UNC’ RASTUS’ POSSUM YARN. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

UNC’ RASTUS’ POSSUM YARN.

Thankssivine Story Told by the Old Negro for the Children.

N Old Unc’ Rastus Pettibone’s home, a very modest little four-room establishment, great preparations were being made for.the Thanksgiving festivities which the next day was expected to usher in.

The morning came and Aunt Patty took the opossum which Unc* Ras’ had caught and placed him in a broad pan and put him in the oven. After the opossum had baked for a while she opened the oven and put in the pan a lot of sweet potatoes which had previously been boiled and split and let them brown in the ’possum fat. When the animal was done brown the family and their friends gathered around the festal board and the middle-sized girls and the big girls, the old folks and the young folks pitched into the dish and made merry over the arrival from the South. After the dinner they had some music, and wound up with a dance. When the dance was ended the visitors, to the number of seven or eight, left with a chorus of good-bys and jokes and the family were left by themselves. “Put on some coal on dat fiah, you Bonapaht,” said Unc’ Rastus. “My law, dat ’possum remine me of ole Ahkansaw, yassah," it stoly do.” “Tell us ’bout it, pa,” said Ca’line, and the other children clamored for the story. “Well,” said Une’ Rastus, “down dah in de Boston mountains whah I’ze bawn we dun liv’ in one dese heah cabins, log cabins. Dey chink up twix de logs with mud, an’ buil’ a chimlcy on de outside. We all had nine dogs an’ so-teen in de family. Da wuz er smoke-houf.e an’ chicken coop an’ er ash-hoppah by de cabin an ’er cawn crib. We wuz in de valley an’ a mile down de road live Eph Baker an’ his family. Long ’bout dis time de yeah Eph an’ me

an’Wash Adams an’ de Beazely boys we’d staht out early in de evenin’ aftah ’possum. Tain’ no use sow to go twel de ’simmons is ripe an’ de fros’ ripe de ’simmons. Yessah, de fros’ it ripes de ’simmons an’ den de ’possum he gwyne come out in de moonlight. Dey wuz mons’ous woods dah. Dey wuz red oak, black oak, pos’ oak, gum tree, ellum, sycamo’ an’ a lot othuz. “Well, suh, we’d have ’bout fohty dogs mo’ er less an’ one de Beazely boys he’d fotch ’long ole musket. Das all de gun we got. De moon he light up de valley, de old ’broom sage’ fiel’s dey lay in’ round, an’ at de aidge de fiel’s wuz mos’ oftenest de ’simmon trees. Now, de ’possum love ’simmons. He eat berries, yassah, an’ buds an’ roots, but, my Lawd, he fine ’simmon tree de darkest night evah blowed. “De boys dey off in de woods chasin’ ’roun’ de fiel’s an’ tarin’ up de groun’ lookin’ for ’possum. Da jus’ three kine o’ dogs in dat country. Da is de houn ? dog, de cur dog an’ de fice dog. De cur dog, dey mos’ly call ’em mungrel heah, dey bes’ foh ’possum. We lisson to dem crazy dogs hollah an’ bark. Den Eph Baker he say, ‘Das Tige, de triflin’ scoun’rel.’ “Den we heah another bark an’ es we heah dat dog hollah all de boys dey say, ‘Das music. Das sholy ’possum.’ I gwyne tell you we rar over de broom-sage an’ we git ovah de fence an’ dah by er big ’simmon tree dah’s music. Bose, Venus an’ er lot tie othah dogs. Tige, he ain’ dah. Ole mist’ ’possum he up in tip o’ de ’simmon tree, and I climb de tree an’ soon I ketch ’im, he give up an’ play he daid. Yassah, he doan show no sign dat he livin’. Den we sets de dogs goin’ again, an’ mebbe we hear off in de aidge o’ de woods boo-woof, boo-woof, 00, 00, 00, an’ if dey is ernudder dog go wah-ah arp-arp-arp kine o’ high, den das music an’ das ’possum. Den we clar de fences an’ run throo de broom-sage an’ when we find ole music Jey’s ’possum dah. “Well, sub, when we git all de ’possum we want we go home, an’ den I take big ole ’possum an’ dress him an’ stretch him out on de roof of de smokehouse. In de mornin’ day takes ’im an’ day pa’bile ’im to kit out da wile taste, an’ den day puts ’im in old oven. De fat jes’ bile out, an’ when de ’possum gettin’ bake awhile yo ole mammy take dese yer long yams dat been bile already an’ put in de oven with mist’ ’possum. “Yo’ ole mammy got turnips an’ baekboie, cabbage an’ hambone an’ lye hominy an’ pone, corn pone. Well, suh, dey all bus’ deyselves eatin’ ’possum, an’ gen-ally has a little o’ dish yer apple-jack an’ dey sweetens it with ’lasses. Yo’ kin eat a heap o’ ’possum, caze it doan’ hurt yo’. When de ’possum all gone, all de sop cleaned up, de taters an’ de cabbage, de hambone an’ de backbone des out o* de way, den dey clears away all de dishes an’

de table an’ dey ’gins to pat juba an’ git de fiddle an’ de banjo down. “Day doan dance dese yer waltzes in my time. Dey dance one at a time or maybe dey’s a boy an’ a wench dey dances togedder. But dey dance. Dey doan slide. Dey buck an’ dey wing an’ dey doubleshuffle an’ puts in de fancy steps an’ de res’ dey pats an’ hollers. De fiddler he got de fiddle way down on de lef’ arm, an’ he sawin’ away on ‘Chicken in de Breadtray,’ ‘Cottoneye Joe,’ ‘Soapsuds Ovah de Fence,’ or some o’ dey hoe-down tunes, an’ de banjo keepin’ time. Dey loose de

chinkin’ out de logs. Oh! my law, all de dishes jumpin’ in de cupboard an’ de pick’ninnies dey jumpin’ up an’ down—yo kain hole ’em down. Ole Mammy Jupe—de real ole mammy—she sit in de cornah smokin’ one o’ dese yere red clay pipes with one o’ de cane stems dat dey cuts in de cane-brake. De dogs dey outside breakin’ de ’possub bones an’ growlin’ ovah de hambone. “When one boy get tiahd dancin’ ernud-

der boy he step in an’ dey des keep dancin’ an’ singin’ an’ pattin’ all night—yassah, twell de ole red sun he showin’ dat he gwyne come ovah de mountain. Den dey all slip away an’ go whah dey can sleep foh all day.” Mr. Rastus reached for his pipe. “Git along to bed now, you chillen,” he said, and there was a general scampering. The old man puffed away reminiscently.

WHEN UNC’ RASTUS WAS YOUNG.

DREAMING OF OLD DAYS.