Page:The International Folk-Lore Congress of the World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, July, 1893.djvu/399

Rh of a Guinea negro living in South America, and it is probable that many such instances exist. Our Africans are a race of prolific proverb makers, and doubtless much of their homely wisdom and many of their legends yet await the writer who shall secure and give them permanent form.

It will easily be seen that specimens of Folk-ore, to be of value, must be given in dialect. The speech of the people is inseparable from their thought. So long as they think in dialect and talk in dialect, the form of speech will remain an important factor in all representations of them which are in any sense faithful.

Under the head of Curative Lore, or, as the old negroes would say, "Cunger means," may be classed many of their curious remedies for various ills and the charms used to accomplish special ends. One of my colored friends, old Uncle Willis, who seems greatly to enjoy coming to talk to me "a spell," as he terms it, was speaking of tricks, medicines, and "cunger means," he said; "Now dars supp'n w'uts oncom'n pow'rfu' fer ter rub wid w'en yet got de mizries. You mus' git some butter en put "t in er jar. Den git er toad frog en put dat in de jar 'long wid de butter. Nex' you mus' shet up de jar tight en clost so no ar' won' git in no ways. Arf'er dis you jes set 't up er w'ile by 't se'f. Bimeby dat frog 'll tuhn ter butter he-se'f en mek de berry bes' sort o' lin'men' fer ter rub wid w'en yer been tuk wid de pains."

"Now hyears er rem'dy fer er nudder trouble. Ef anytime yers in er house en kyarnt pay de ren' yer mus' sweep de flo' en git up eb'ry bit er dus', den wrop 't in er piece er red flan^ en put 't in de stove. "W'en 't comes ter ashes jes tek 't en sprinkle 't bout de house w'en de ownder's gwine cum fer ter git de ren'. He won' say er dis'gree'ble word en he won' bother yer neider, not ef yer stays in dat house forty year. You see mum, w'en yer sprinkle dese means wid er wush hit refrecs on de pusson w'ut come in. Now dis look like fool'shness, but so 'tis.

"In de woods dars er vey'y impo't'nt root w'ut yer kin git. Hits w'ut goes by de name o' de Devil's shoestrin'. Now yer