VII HOW THE BILLY GOAT LOST HIS TAIL

The side lawn was the scene of a noisy fray between the old house cat and big dog, Bray. Servants from the neighborhood had quickly gathered to urge on the sport. Some of the children, Willis among the loudest, were crying and beseeching the men servants to save “poor Kitty,” which they reluctantly did to the extent of allowing her to escape up an old crab apple tree.

“I wush ter de Lawd he had er kilt her,” said Phyllis, letting her rheumatic limbs down by degrees to a sitting posture on the grass, “’Ceitful old thing, I don’t blame Bray!”

“I love my Kitty!” cried Willis as he ran to the tree. There he earnestly advised the cat to stay just where she was until Bray went to sleep. A few of the larger children lingered expecting another fight, as Bray continued to bark and jump about the tree.

“You ne’en ter tell dat cat ter take keer er herse’f! She des settin’ up dat tree glis’nin’ dem old green eyes on Bray an’ sayin’ ter ’erse’f: ‘Nuv’r mind, I’m gwine fix you soon es I git down fum hyah!’”

“What can she do, Mammy Phyllis?” asked one of the larger girls. “She’s too little to hurt Bray!”

“Yas, an’ ole Sis’ Cat wus lit’ler’n her, an’ yit she come mighty nigh ter fixin’ Ned Dog an’ Billy Goat, too! Doan nuv’r put no ’pindence in Sis Tabby’s fokes.”

“Oh, Mammy Phyllis, please tell us about Ned Dog,” and the children gathered around her pressing the request.

“Doan ax me ter tell nuthin’ long as Willis keep foolin’ roun’ Bray wid dat switch!”

Mammy pretended to rise, but two of the older children ran and coaxed Willis to sit by them and listen to the story. “Now, Mammy Phyllis, go on, he’s going to sit still, ain’t you Willis?” said one.

“I want ter whoop Bray,” muttered Willis only half satisfied.

“Atter I tells you how ’ceitful Sis’ Cat act ter Ned Dog, I boun’ you’ll change yo’ chune! ’Member dat party Miss Race Hoss give an’ how it broke up wid all uv ’em quoilin’ an’ ’busin’ ole Brer Bar? Po’ Brer Bar nuv’r got no vit’als neeth’r. Well, when Sis’ Cat lef’ dat party, she wus so mad she cudn’t walk straight! She come er flyin’ down de big road right catacornder’d! Dat is, she run in de road one minit, an’ de nex’ un, she fotch up on de side er de mount’in; den hyah she come back ergin in de road! Well, one uv de times she lit on de mount’in she fotch up right in front er Mist’r Rattlesnake’s house. Mist’r Rattlesnake had des got out er bed an’ stuck his head out’n his house ter git er little fresh air, when Sis’ Cat come blip! right in his face! He lick’ out his tongue an’ say:

“‘Name er de Lawd, Sis’ Cat!’

“Sis’ Cat say: ‘Name er de Lawd, Mist’r Rattlesnake! Howcum you gittin’ up dis time de year?’

“‘I thought I heerd m’ ’larm clock go off,’ he say.

“‘You ain’ hyah no thunder Mister Rattlesnake! You kin g’long back ter baid an’ take er three weeks’ nap,’ sez Sis’ Cat.

“‘I’m sho’ I heerd thunder er som’thin’ pow’ful like it,’ sez Mister Rattlesnake.

“Sis’ Cat tell him: ‘You des heah de breakin’ up uv Miss Race Hoss’s party! Dat’s whut you heah! Brer Bar act so outlashus we des hatt’r ’buse him an’ run him off!’

“Mist’r Rattlesnake set an’ look at Sis’ Cat er minit, ’caze yer see he ain’ wake’ up good yit. Den he lick out es tongue an’ say: ‘Sis’ Cat, you sholy ain’ th’owin’ erway no fren’s is yer? I knows I ain’ got narry single fren’ an’ I knows you got pow’ful few yo’se’f! ’Pears ter me yer better g’long an’ eat up dem words you sed ter Brer Bar!’ Den he lick out his tongue ergin an’ go on back ter baid.

“Sis’ Cat set right dar an’ study, she do! Den she make up her mind ter take Mist’r Rattlesnake’ ’vice. She slunk eroun’ sorter soft an’ sneakin’ like thu de woods tell she come ter Brer Bar’s house. She bum! bum! on de do’ an’ Brer Bar ax, ‘Who dat?’

“She say: ‘Sis’ Cat.’

“‘Is you Sis’ Wile Cat er Sis’ Tabby Cat?’ ax Brer Bar.

“‘Sis’ Tabby Cat.’

“‘You’se at de wrong do’, Sis’ Tabby Cat,’ sez Brer Bar.

“Sis’ Cat start ter cryin’: ‘Oh! Brer Bar! Brer Bar! please lemme come in! I’m mos’ dead, Brer Bar!’

“Brer Bar say: ‘You bett’r git erway fum hyah, Sis’ Cat, ’caze I’m li’ble ter eat enythin’ I lays my paws on! I nuv’r had ernuf ter eat at de party, an’ I ain’ pervide m’ fambly wid nuthin’ ter eat, an’ we’se all s’ hungry dat we’se dangus’, Sis’ Cat!’

“Sis’ Cat keep on cryin’: ‘I know’d dat Brer Bar;—I know’d you an’ yo’ fambly was hongry, an’ dat’s howcum I ter come, Brer Bar! I come ter tell you whar some good vit’als was des waitin’ fur yer!’

“When Brer Bar hear dat, he sorter crack de do’ an’ poke his nose thu: ‘Sis’ Tabby Cat,’ he say, ‘you smells good ernuf ter eat yo’se’f!’

“Sis’ Cat mos’ skeerd ter death when she heah dat, an’ she mos’ die when she feel Brer Bar’s mouf dreanin’ an’ drippin’ on her back; so she stop’ cryin’ an’ sorter back off kinder easy like an’ tell Brer Bar dat Ned Dog got de fattes’ Billy Goat he ev’r seed; an’ ef he’d come down ter de ole sweet-gum tree in Mist’r Man’s pastur’ ’bout dark, she’d have him er whole tree full er honey, an’ de Billy Goat, too!”

Willis’s lips began to tremble. He suddenly left his place among the children and falling on Phyllis’s breast, sobbed aloud.

“Brer Bar ain’ eat de goat yit! He ain’ eb’n got fur es de sweet-gum tree! Set hyah in Mammy’s lap so nuthin’ can’t git you, an’ lis’n ter de res’ er de tale!” Snuggling him in her arms, she continued: “It nuv’r tuk Sis’ Cat long ter light out fum Brer Bar’s house, I tell yer! Dat dreanin’ mouf er his’n skeer’ her so bad dat she nuv’r tetch de groun’ mo’n six times ’fo’ she wus plum out’n de woods. Den she come er cropin’ up ter Mister Man’s house. She look all erroun’ she do, an’ see Ned Dog wusn’t at home; den she g’long in de barn whar Billy wus huntin’ fur sumthin’ ter eat. She take er seat in de winder by de little colt’s stall. Bimeby she say, ‘Billy, Miss Turkey Hen’s givin’ er mouty fine party ternight, down at de old sweet-gum tree in de pastur’ an’ she tole me ter ax you ter come.’ Billy couldn’t fine nuthin’ ter eat in de barn but some old straw Miss Race Hoss had done slep’ on, so he turn’ roun’ mouty quick when Sis’ Cat tell him he wus ax ter er party. He sorter laff an’ say: ‘I wond’r howcum her ter ax me.’

“Sis’ Cat say: ‘Caze she say you’se de fines’ an’ slickes’ uv all Mister Man’s beastes; an’ she gwine have some nice lit’le tender rose bushes fur you ter eat, an’ er heap er fine vit’als you loves.’

“Billy Goat des switch his tail an’ grin, ’caze yer know he wusn’t nuthin’ but er man goat, an’ ’cose he b’lief all de comp’ments Sis’ Cat choose ter stuff ’im wid. An’ all de men fokes is des de same, tell dis day! ev’y Lord’s blessed one uv ’em! When Sis’ Cat see she done turn Billy’s head plum roun’ she tell ’im not ter tell Ned Dog erbout de party, ’caze Miss Turkey Hen say she ain’ got ’nuf room but fur des one uv de fambly. Den, when Sis’ Cat heah Ned Dog er comin’, she lit out, ’caze she nuv’r want ’im ter know dat she had enything ter do wid Brer Bar eatin’ Billy Goat. Yer see Sis’ Cat wus tryin’ ter keep in wid bofe sides.”

Slipping her fingers under the bandanna kerchief bound about her head, and scratching slowly, Mammy chuckled to herself: “Dey’s er heap er fine folks in dis hyah town des like Sis’ Cat, too! Yes, Lawd, er heap uv ’em!”

“Don’t talk about people! We just want to hear about beastes!” urged little Mary Van.

“I hatt’r do it sometimes, chile, ’caze fokes an’ beastes has er heap er symptoms des erlike! Well, bless de Lawd, Billy ain’t no sooner seed Ned ’fo he ’gun ter brag erbout de party.

“‘Whose party?’ sez Ned Dog.

“‘Miss Turkey Hen’s havin’ er fine party down at de ole sweet-gum tree ternight ’bout dark,’ sez Billy.

“Ned Dog think Billy tellin’ er story, an’ he say, ‘Sis’ Turkey Hen ain’ givin’ no party ternight! I done see Mist’r Turkey Gobble an’ de chilluns in bed when I come thu de peach orchard an’ old Miss Turkey Hen, she wus des tyin’ her nightcap on her own se’f.’

“But, yer see, Billy wus too hard-head’d ter lis’n ter enybody, so he up an’ say, ‘I can’t hep whut you seen; Sis’ Cat say she gwine have spechul vit’als fur me, an’ I’m gwine!’ Den Billy walk up an’ down breshen de flies off’n his back wid his long tail.”

Seeing that some objections were about to be raised as to the length of the tail, Phyllis hastened to add: “In dem days goats had tails des like hosses. Soon es Billy menshun Sis’ Cat’s name, Ned Dog tell him Sis’ Cat layin’ er trap fur him; but ’tain’t no use ter argufy wid hard-head’d fokes like Billy, so Ned Dog let ’im g’long ter de party; but he crope close on b’hime ’im, an’ on de way, he come up wid Mist’r Bloodhoun’ an’ ax ’im ter g’long wid ’im. Mist’r Bloodhoun’ say he pow’ful broke down trailin’ er runaway nigger all day, but ef Ned was ’spectin’ er rompus he ’speck he’d hatt’r jine him. Bimeby, when Billy wus mos’ down ter de sweet-gum tree, dey hides deyse’fs in er clump er red haw bushes. Ole Brer Bar he had done come down fum de mount’in early, an’ wus standin’ b’hime de tree des er gorgin’ ’esse’f wid honey an’ peepin’ out, lookin’ fur Billy Goat. When he see Billy come switchin’ ’esse’f ’cross he pastur’, he ’gun ter fidgitin’ so he can’t wait ter git es teef in him, an’ he bus’ out fum b’hime de tree an’ come er runnin’ t’ards Billy. Billy wus so skeered he jes’ had sense ernuf ter turn ’esse’f roun’! Brer Bar ketch ’im by de tail. Brer Bar pull, an’ Billy pull. Billy pull, an’ Brer Bar pull! Bimeby, de tail come off in Brer Bar’s claw. Den Billy lit out; but Brer Bar grab ’im by de b’hime leg. Des den Mister Bloodhoun’ an’ Ned Dog wus on top er Brer Bar! Ned Dog grab Brer Bar’s paw in es teefs an’ Brer Bar drop Billy an’ grab Ned by de ye’r an’ wus mos’ clampin’ es jaws on Ned’s haid when Mist’r Bloodhoun’ clinch ’im by de th’oat! Brer Bar ax Mister Bloodhoun’ please ter turn es th’oat loose, dat he got sumthin’ ter tell ’im! Mist’r Bloodhoun’ ’nounce: ‘I won’t turn you plum loose, but I’ll hol’ yo’ th’oat easy like tell you kin ’splain yo’se’f!’

“Den Brer Bar splainify ’esse’f an’ beg so hard, tell bimeby dey ’scuses ’im, an’ he amble’ on home fas’ es he kin. Den dey come on home ter settle matters wid Sis’ Cat. Sis’ Cat was er settin’ by Billy moanin’ wid him ’bout losin’ es tail.”

“Did his tail ever grow out any more?” asked a sympathetic boy.

“No, honey, goats ain’t nuv’r had no tails ter speak uv sense dat day; but hoopee! hyah come Ned Dog an’ Mister Bloodhoun’! Dey come er yelpin’ wid dey tongues er hangin’ out. Dey pounce right whar Sis’ Cat wus settin’, but dey ain’t pounce quick as Sis’ Cat kin jump; ’caze by de time dey hits Sis’ Cat’s seat, Sis’ Cat, she was plum on top er de cow house, standin’ dar wid ’er back up, an’ her tail bushy out. Ned Dog dare her ter come down an’ splain ’erse’f; but Sis’ Cat say she ain’t got nuthin’ ter ’splain, an’ what’s mo’ she doan take no dog’s dare. An’ dat howcum dey quoil an ’spute whensumever dey meets tell dis day.”

“But, Mammy Phyllis, all cats are not as mean as ole Sis’ Cat,” ventured a little girl.

“Honey, my gran-mammy wus black! What color is I?”

“Black!” chimed all the children.

“An’ dat crab apple tree,—what sort er apples does you git off’n hit?”

“Crab apples!” was the answer.

“Well, ole Sis’ Cat was mean an’ ’ceitful, an’all ’er chillun is gwine ter be des like her long es I stays black an’ dem crab apples stays sour. Now run erlong,—dere’s de fust bell!”