Page:The International Folk-Lore Congress of the World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, July, 1893.djvu/383

Rh estray from the theology of the camp-meeting, did he not have along with him his handsome, jealous wife, the queen of the wuller-wups or will-o'-wisps, the patroness and friend of Old Rabbit. The Old Boy, in spite of his many adventures and blunders, might be overlooked were he not the husband of his beautiful, terrible, vengeful wife who makes it her business to serve out venom to the snakes. One year, we are told, all the snakes were harmless in consequence of her irate spouse, who is powerful enough when he rouses himself, taking possession of the "cunjer-bag" containing her "tricks" and poisons. The ownership of this bag goes to prove, if all other testimony were wanting, that she is a veritable Voodoo, as does Old Rabbit's incantation, accompanied by the strewing of red clover, in the tale of the "Silver Luck-Ball." Like all other conjurors, she seems not always able to bring good fortune to herself—witness, the weather proverb, "When rain falls from a sunny sky, the Old Boy is beating his wife." That she sometimes "hits back" we have proof in the story of:

THE JOKE FISH-HAWK PLAYED ON THE OLD BOY.

I really must give it in dialect; it loses its character in grammar-school English:

"One time in de old time, de Ole Boy, he ez so on common wid some mo' common folks, he hed er fuss with he ole ooman, an' dat time she comed out ahead, pintedly. Dey fussed an' dey cussed, an' dey fit an dey clawed, an' den huh strenk kinder gun out, an' she runned out de do' an' riz up on de rocks, an' he loped arter huh wid de noshin ter smack 'er jaws w'en 'e ketched 'er, but, Ian' she des tahn right roun' in 'er tracks, an' up wid er rock an' hit 'im fa'r an' squar' on de shin, wid er ker-bim! dat mos' bustid de bone. Truf tell, dat laig am a-pesterin' de ole mon yit, kase 'e kyamt cunjer off de huht an' de misery dat he own ole ooman mek. No suh! No! kase she de bigges' man o' de two pun 'casion, e'en ef he hev got dat sneakin', tattlin' Blue-Jay a-spyin' an' a-kyarin' news an' debbilmint fob 'im. No, suh! he kyarn't cunjer um off. Howsomeddevveh, hit am er heap betteh now dough 'e hitch yit in 'e walk w'en