baby and holding him by the hind legs, rejoiced over his captive thus: "Ah ha, ole fellow! I got you at last, I is. You been thievin' dis long time, but now I got you, sartain. You good for roast, you good for bile, you good for fry, you good for potten-pie." But the rabbit, after remaining passive for some moments, suddenly thrust both of its tarry forepaws into the old man's eyes, so that he was compelled to let go the rabbit's legs to rub his aching orbs. Of course the rabbit escaped, and as he went bounding off, the old man exclaimed, "Go 'long, you big-eye, whopper-jaw, long-leg, cotton-tail! you ain't got nuff fat on you whole body for fry you hind leg."
When such stories were told, and I became inquisitive as to animals talking with human beings or with each other, I was generally told, "Dat was a long time ago, but dey don't do so any mo'." In my childhood I firmly believed in witches, and it was with some dread that I went out of doors or through a room alone when it was dark, and frequently dreamed of them after hearing some of the stories told by the servants on long winter evenings. An old house-servant of my father was as chock full of these witch stories as Sancho Panza was of proverbs. According to his teachings, wizards ("conjerors," he called them) and witches made a bargain with the devil that they were to possess extraordinary powers over their fellow-mortals in this life, and in exchange their souls belonged to him. There were some restrictions, however, which the devil could not free them from. For instance, they had no power over a child who had not arrived at the age of discretion, could work no evil to a person who had a Bible in the room at night, and could not utter the Lord's name. Stanton, the man referred to, said that a witch could creep out of her skin and leave it in bed, so that her absence could not be noted; that it was not uncommon for one witch, when she had enmity against another, and knew when she made a nocturnal excursion, to get her skin, and, turning it wrong side out, to salt and pepper it well; and then, turning it with the fleshy side in again, to replace it in bed. One of Stanton's stories was as follows. I will narrate it, as nearly as I can, in the language in which he used to tell it:
"Once der was a ole man dat was a conjeror, an' his wife was a witch; an' dey had a son, an' dey larnt him to be a conjeror too; an' every night dey use to git out of deir skins an' go ride deir neighbors. Well, one night de conjeror tetch his son wid his staff an' say, 'Horum sacrum' (dat mean, 'It's pas' de hour o' midnight'). 'Come, git up; let's go ride de overseer an' his oldes' son: I had a spite 'gin 'em dis long time.' So dey goes to de overseer's house, an' give de sign an' slip t'rough de keyhole. Den dey unbar de door on de inside an' take out de overseer an' his son, widout deir knowin' it; an' de conjeror tetch de overseer wid his switch an' he turns to a bull, an' tetch de overseer's son an' he turns to a bull-yerlin'. Den de conjeror mounts de bull, an' de boy he mounts de bull-yerlin', an' sets off a long way over de creek to blight a man's wheat what de conjeror had a spite agin. Well, dey rode a long time to git dar, an' when dey was cummin' back dey see de mornin' star shinin' mighty bright, an' de conjeror sayto his son, 'S'pose we run a race? Whoever git to de ole gallus cross de creek fust will live de longes'.' So off dey goes, nip an' tuck—sometimes de bull ahead, an' sometimes de yerlin' ahead. But de bull, he gets to de creek fust, an' stops to drink, de yerlin' little ways behind; an' when he gits to de creek de boy gin him a cut, an' he would ha' gone clean over, but de boy as he went over hollered out, 'God, daddy! dat's a good jump for bull-yerlin'.' An' dat same minit dey was bofe standin' in de water forty miles from home. De bull wasn't dar, an' de yerlin' wasn't dar. An' de same minit de overseer was asleep in his bed at home, an' his son was in his bed. An' in de mornin' dey feel very tired, an' know dat de witches been ridin' 'em, but dey never find out what witches it was."
