Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby

Early one morning, even before Sister Moon had put on her negligee, Brer Fox was up and moving around. He had a glint in his eye, so you know he was up to no good.

He mixed up a big batch of tar and made it into the shape of a baby. By the time he finished, Brer Sun was yawning himself awake and peeping one eye over the topside of the earth.

Brer Fox took his Tar Baby down to the road, the very road Brer Rabbit walked along every morning. He sat the Tar Baby in the road, put a hat on it, and then hid in a ditch.

He had scarcely gotten comfortable (as comfortable as one can get in a ditch), before Brer Rabbit came strutting along like he owned the world and was collecting rent from everybody in it.

Seeing the Tar Baby, Brer Rabbit tipped his hat. “Good morning! Nice day, ain’t it? Of course, any day I wake up and find I’m still alive is a nice day far as I’m concerned.” He laughed at his joke, which he thought was pretty good. (Ain’t too bad if I say so myself.)

Tar Baby don’t say a word. Brer Fox stuck his head up out of the ditch, grinning.

“You deaf?” Brer Rabbit asked the Tar Baby. “If you are, I can talk louder.” He yelled, “How you this morning? Nice day, ain’t it?”

Tar Baby still don’t say nothing.

Brer Rabbit was getting kinna annoyed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this young generation. Didn’t your parents teach you no manners?”

Tar Baby don’t say nothing.

“Well, I reckon I’ll teach you some!” He hauls off and hits the Tar Baby. BIP! And his fist was stuck to the side of the Tar Baby’s face.

“You let me go!” Brer Rabbit yelled. “Let me go or I’ll really pop you one.” He twisted and turned, but he couldn’t get loose. “All right! I warned you!” And he smacked the Tar Baby on the other side of its head. BIP! His other fist was stuck.

Brer Rabbit was sho’ nuf mad now. “You turn me loose or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” THUNK! He kicked the Tar Baby and his foot was caught. He was cussing and carrying on something terrible and kicked the Tar Baby with the other foot and THUNK! That foot was caught. “You let me go or I’ll butt you with my head.” He butted the Tar Baby under the chin and THUNK! His head was stuck.

Brer Fox sauntered out of the ditch just as cool as the sweat on the side of a glass of ice tea. He looked at Brer Rabbit stuck to the Tar Baby and laughed until he was almost sick.

“Well, I got you now,” Brer Fox said when he was able to catch his breath. “You floppy-eared, pom-pom-tailed good-for-nothing! I guess you know who’s having rabbit for dinner this night!”

Brer Rabbit would’ve turned around and looked at him if he could’ve unstuck his head. Didn’t matter. He heard the drool in Brer Fox’s voice and knew he was in a world of trouble.

“You ain’t gon’ be going around through the community raising commotion anymore, Brer Rabbit. And it’s your own fault too. Didn’t nobody tell you to be so friendly with the Tar Baby. You stuck yourself on that Tar Baby without so much as an invitation. There you are and there you’ll be until I get my fire started and my barbecue sauce ready.”

Brer Rabbit always got enough lip for anybody and everybody. He even told God once what He’d done wrong on the third day of Creation. This time, though, Brer Rabbit talked mighty humble. “Well, Brer Fox. No doubt about it. You got me and no point my saying that I would improve my ways if you spared me.”

“No point at all,” Brer Fox agreed as he started gathering kindling for the fire.

“I guess I’m going to be barbecue this day.” Brer Rabbit sighed. “But getting barbecued is a whole lot better than getting thrown in the briar patch.” He sighed again. “No doubt about it. Getting barbecued is almost a blessing compared to being thrown in that briar patch on the other side of the road. If you got to go, go in a barbecue sauce. That’s what I always say. How much lemon juice and brown sugar you put in yours?”

When Brer Fox heard this, he had to do some more thinking, because he wanted the worst death possible for that rabbit. “Now that I thinks on it, it’s too hot to be standing over a hot fire. I think I’ll hang you.”

Brer Rabbit shuddered. “Hanging is a terrible way to die! Just terrible! But I thank you for being so considerate. Hanging is better than being thrown in the briar patch.”

Brer Fox thought that over a minute. “Come to think of it, I can’t hang you, ’cause I didn’t bring my rope. I’ll drown you in the creek over yonder.”

Brer Rabbit sniffed like he was about to cry. “No, no, Brer Fox. You know I can’t stand water, but I guess drowning, awful as it is, is better than the briar patch.”

“I got it!” Brer Fox exclaimed. “I don’t feel like dragging you all the way down to the creek. I got my knife right here. I’m going to skin you!” He pulled out his knife.

Brer Rabbit’s ears shivered. “That’s all right, Brer Fox. It’ll hurt something awful, but go ahead and skin me. Scratch out my eyeballs! Tear out my ears by the roots! Cut off my legs! Do whatnsoever you want to with me, Brer Fox, but please, please, please! Don’t throw me in that briar patch!”

Brer Fox was convinced now that the worst thing he could do to Brer Rabbit was the very thing Brer Rabbit didn’t want him to do. He snatched him off the Tar Baby and wound up his arm like he was trying to throw a fastball past Hank Aaron and chunked that rabbit across the road and smack dab in the middle of the briar patch.

Brer Fox waited. Didn’t hear a thing. He waited a little longer. Still no sound. And just about the time he decided he was rid of Brer Rabbit, just about the time a big grin started to spread across his face, he heard a little giggle.

“Tee-hee! Tee-hee!” And the giggles broke into the loudest laughing you’ve ever heard.

Brer Fox looked up to see Brer Rabbit sitting on top of the hill on the other side of the briar patch.

Brer Rabbit waved. “I was born and raised in the briar patch, Brer Fox! Born and raised in the briar patch!” And he hopped on over the hill and out of sight.

Brer Rabbit Gets Even

About a week later Brer Rabbit decided to visit with Miz Meadows and the girls. Don’t come asking me who Miz Meadows and her girls were. I don’t know, but then again, ain’t no reason I got to know. Miz Meadows and the girls were in the tale when it was handed to me, and they gon’ be in it when I hand it to you. And that’s the way the rain falls on that one.

Brer Rabbit was sitting on the porch with Miz Meadows and the girls, and Miz Meadows said that Brer Fox was going through the community telling how he’d tricked Brer Rabbit with the Tar Baby. Miz Meadows and the girls thought that was about the funniest thing they’d ever heard and they just laughed and laughed.

Brer Rabbit was as cool as Joshua when he blew on the trumpet ’round the walls of Jericho. Just rocked in the rocking chair as if the girls were admiring his good looks.

When they got done with their giggling, he looked at them and winked his eye real slow. “Ladies, Brer Fox was my daddy’s riding horse for thirty years. Might’ve been thirty-five or forty, but thirty, for sure.” He got up, tipped his hat, said, “Good day, ladies,” and walked on off up the road like he was the Easter Parade.

Next day Brer Fox came by to see Miz Meadows and the girls. No sooner had he tipped his hat than they told him what Brer Rabbit had said. Brer Fox got so hot it was all he could do to keep from biting through his tongue.

“Ladies, I’m going to make Brer Rabbit eat his words and spit’em out where you can see’em!”

Brer Fox took off down the road, through the woods, down the valley, up the hill, down the hill, round the bend, through the creek, and past the shopping mall, until he came to Brer Rabbit’s house.

(Wasn’t no shopping mall there. I just put that in to see if you was listening.)

Brer Rabbit saw him coming. He ran in the house and shut the door tight as midnight. Brer Fox knocked on the door. BAM! BAM! BAM! No answer. BAM! BAM! BAM! Still no answer. BLAMMITY BLAM BLAM BLAM!

From inside came this weak voice. “Is that you, Brer Fox? If it is, please run and get the doctor. I ate some parsley this morning, and it ain’t setting too well on my stomach. Please, Brer Fox. Run and get the doctor.”

“I’m sho’ sorry to hear that, Brer Rabbit. Miz Meadows asked me to come tell you that she and the girls are having a party today. They said it wouldn’t be a party worth a dead leaf if you weren’t there. They sent me to come get you.”

Brer Rabbit allowed as to how he was too sick, and Brer Fox said he couldn’t be too sick to go partying. (God knows, that’s the truth! I ain’t never been too sick to party. Even when I’m dead, I’ll get up out of the grave to party. And when I get sick, the blues are the best doctor God put on earth. The blues can cure athlete’s foot, hangnail, and the heartbreak of psoriasis.)

Well, Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox got to arguing back and forth and forth and back about whether he was too sick to come to the party. Finally, Brer Rabbit said, “Well, all right, Brer Fox. I don’t want to hurt nobody’s feelings by not coming to the party, but I can’t walk.”

Brer Fox said, “That’s all right. I’ll carry you in my arms.”

“I’m afraid you’ll drop me.”

“I wouldn’t do a thing like that, Brer Rabbit. I’m stronger than bad breath.”

“I wouldn’t argue with you there, but I’m still afraid. I’ll go if you carry me on your back.”

“Well, all right,” Brer Fox said reluctantly.

“But I can’t ride without a saddle.”

“I’ll get the saddle.”

“But I can’t get in the saddle without a bridle.”

Brer Fox was getting a little tired of this, but he agreed to get a bridle.

“And I can’t keep my balance unless you got some blinders on. How I know you won’t try to throw me off?”

That’s just what Brer Fox was planning on doing, but he said he’d put the blinders on.

Brer Fox went off to get all the riding gear, and Brer Rabbit combed his hair, greased his mustache, put on his best suit (the purple one with the yellow vest), shined his toenails, and fluffed out his cottontail. He was definitely ready to party!

He went outside and Brer Fox had the saddle, bridle, and blinders on and was down on all fours. Brer Rabbit got on and away they went. They hadn’t gone far when Brer Fox felt Brer Rabbit raise his foot.

“What you doing, Brer Rabbit?”

“Shortening up the left stirrup.”

Brer Rabbit raised the other foot.

“What you doing now?” Brer Fox wanted to know.

“Shortening up the right stirrup.”

What Brer Rabbit was really doing was putting on spurs. When they got close to Miz Meadows’s house, Brer Rabbit stuck them spurs into Brer Fox’s flanks and Brer Fox took off buckity-buckity-buckity!

Miz Meadows and the girls were sitting on the porch when Brer Rabbit come riding by like he was carrying mail on the Pony Express. He galloped up the road until he was almost out of sight, turned Brer Fox around and came back by the house a-whooping and a-hollering like he’d just discovered gold.

He turned Brer Fox around again, slowed him to a trot and rode on up to Miz Meadows’s house, where he got off and tied Brer Fox to the hitching post. He sauntered up the steps, tipped his hat to the ladies, lit a cigar, and sat down in the rocking chair.

“Ladies, didn’t I tell you that Brer Fox was the riding horse for our family! Of course, he don’t keep his gait like he used to, but in a month or so he’ll have it back.”

Miz Meadows and the gals laughed so hard and so long, they liked to broke out of their underclothes.

Brer Rabbit must’ve stayed with Miz Meadows and the girls half the day. They had tea and cookies, and Brer Rabbit entertained them with some old-time barrelhouse piano. Finally it was time to go. He kissed the ladies’ hands, got on Brer Fox, and with a little nudge of the spurs, rode away.

Soon as they were out of sight, Brer Fox started rarin’ and buckin’ to get Brer Rabbit off. Every time he rared, Brer Rabbit jabbed him with the spurs, and every time he bucked, Brer Rabbit yanked hard on the bridle. Finally, brer Fox rolled over on the ground and that got Brer Rabbit off in a hurry.

Brer Rabbit didn’t waste no time getting through the underbrush, and Brer Fox was after him like the wet on water. Brer Rabbit saw a tree with a hole and ran in it just as the shadow of Brer Fox’s teeth was going up his back.

The hole was too little for Brer Fox to get into, so he lay down on the ground beside it to do some serious thinking.

He was lying there with his eyes closed (a fox always closes his eyes when he’s doing serious thinking), when Brer Buzzard came flopping along. He saw Brer Fox lying there like he was dead, and said, “Looks like supper has come to me.”

“No, it ain’t, fool!” said Brer Fox, opening his eyes. “I ain’t dead. I got Brer Rabbit trapped in this tree here, and I ain’t letting him get away this time if it takes me six Christmases.”

Brer Buzzard and Brer Fox talked over the situation for a while. Finally, Brer Buzzard said he’d watch the tree if Brer Fox wanted to go get his axe to chop the tree down.

Soon as Brer Fox was gone and everything was quiet, Brer Rabbit moved close to the hole and yelled, “Brer Fox! Brer Fox!”

Brer Rabbit acted like he was annoyed when Brer Fox didn’t answer. “I know you out there, Brer Fox. Can’t fool me. I just wanted to tell you how much I wish Brer Turkey Buzzard was here.”

Brer Buzzard’s ears got kind of sharp. He put on his best Brer Fox voice and said, “What you want with Brer Buzzard?”

“Oh, nothing, except there’s the fattest gray squirrel in here that I’ve ever seen. If Brer Buzzard was here, I’d drive the squirrel out the other side of the tree to him.”

“Well,” said Brer Buzzard, still trying to sound like Brer Fox and not doing too good a job, “you drive him out and I’ll catch him for Brer Buzzard.”

Brer Rabbit started making all kinds of noises like he was trying to drive the squirrel out and Brer Buzzard ran around to the other side of the tree. Quite naturally, Brer Rabbit ran out of the tree and headed straight for home.

Brer Buzzard was mighty embarrassed when he realized he’d been tricked. Before he could think of what to tell Brer Fox, Brer Fox came marching up with his axe on his shoulder.

“How’s Brer Rabbit?” Brer Fox wanted to know.

“Oh, he doing fine, I reckon. He’s mighty quiet, but he’s in there.”

Brer Fox took his axe and – POW! – started in on the tree. He was swinging that axe so hard and so fast, the chips were piling up like snowflakes.

“He’s in there!” Brer Buzzard yelled. “He’s in there!” The sweat was pouring off Brer Fox like grease coming out of a Christmas goose what’s been in the oven all day. Finally, Brer Buzzard couldn’t hold it in any longer and he bust out laughing.

“What’s so doggone funny?” Brer Fox wanted to know, putting his axe down.

“He’s in there, Brer Fox! He’s in there!” Brer Buzzard exclaimed, still laughing.

Brer Fox was suspicious now. He stuck his head in the hole and didn’t see a thing. “It’s dark in there, Brer Buzzard. Your neck is longer than mine. You stick your head in. Maybe you can see where he’s at.”

Brer Buzzard didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t have no choice. He walked over real careful like, stuck his head in the hole, and soon as he did, Brer Fox grabbed his neck and pulled him out.

“Let me go, Brer Fox! I ain’t done nothing to you. I got to get home to my wife. She be worrying about me.”

“She don’t have to do that, ’cause you gon’ be dead if you don’t tell me where that rabbit is.”

Brer Buzzard told him what had happened and how sorry he was.

“Well, it don’t make no never mind,” said Brer Fox. “You’ll do just as good. I’m gon’ throw you on a fire and burn you up.”

“If you do, I’ll fly away.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I better take care of you right here and now.”

Brer Fox grabbed Brer Buzzard by the tail to throw him on the ground and break his neck. Soon as he raised his arm, however, Brer Buzzard’s tail feathers came out and he flew away.

Po’ Brer Fox. If it wasn’t for bad luck, he wouldn’t have no luck at all.