Story: How Mr. Fox Fooled Madame Possum
Book: Plantation Stories of Old Louisiana
Author(s): Andrews Wilkinson, with illustrations by Charles Bull
Published: 1914
Internet Archive link.
Notes: I have removed the eye-dialect, along with editing for punctuation and paragraphing. In the book, each storytelling scene is framed and narrated in literary English, with the storyteller, the former slave Jason, speaking in dialect; I removed that framing.
Mr. Fox and Mrs. Possum Dine Together
One day, while Mr. Fox was goin’ along through the woods and the thickets lookin’ for somethin’ to eat, and just as hungry as he could be, he come across a grapevine climbin’ high up a tree, with a whole lot of purple bunches of grapes shinin’ in the sun way up at the top of the tree. He stopped there a long time, with his mouth fairly waterin’ for them nice ripe grapes, and tryin’ to study out some way to reach ’em. At last a smart notion struck sly Mr. Fox all at once, and he puts out and trotted off swift and straightways to find his friend, Mr. Possum, to do the needful climbin’ to get them grapes. When he reached Mr. Possum’s house he found’ Mr. Possum was away from home, wood-ramblin’ somewheres or other, but Mrs. Possum was settin’ inside wide awake and lookin’ out of the upper hole in the holler which they had for a window.
So Mr. Fox, he scraped and he bowed, and paid his respects to the lady of the house, and made her his politest compliments on her good looks, and after a little of that kind of talk, he says, “Oh, Madam Possum, does you like grapes?”
“I don’t know. I ain’t ever et none,” answers Madam Possum.
“Well,” went on Mr. Fox, “grapes is mighty good to eat, and if you cares to try ’em, I knows where there’s some of the nicest that ever growed, up a tree in the middle of the woods, and if you’ll come along with me right now and pick ’em we’ll divide ’em all betwixt us, share and share alike.”
At that Madam Possum shut up the house just as soon as she could and joined Mr. Fox on the ground, and they both trotted and ambled off together to the tree with the high grapevine. There they stopped, and Madam Possum looked up at the ripe grapes where Mr. Fox pointed ’em out. Then Mr. Fox he tells her to climb up the tree and pick ’em and throw ’em down for him to divide ’em in even piles, like he promised.
Whilst Madam Possum is doin’ the climbin’, Mr. Fox sets down on the ground on his quarters and curls his bushy tail ’round his haunches, and he grins, holdin’ his drippin’ tongue out of his mouth, whilst he looks up at the ripe grapes out of one eye, and at Madam Possum climbin’ the tree out of the other.
Soon Madam Possum reaches the ripe bunches and pulls ’em and throws ’em down on the ground without turnin’ her face to follow ’em and see where they falls. Mr. Fox he eats up all the grapes as fast as they hits the ground, leavin’ nothin’ but the stems and the seeds, which he puts in a little pile.
When Madam Possum had finished her pullin’ and climbed back down the tree to get her share of the grapes she’d picked and dropped to the ground, Mr. Fox he says, standin’ up with his company manners, smilin’ and polite, “Take your seat, Madam Possum. Set down, Madam. I’s left you all the bestest part of the grapes, these nice seeds and stems, set right down and eat ’em and see how good they is.”
Madam Possum didn’t bother herself none over the dry stems, but she chewed and swallowed some of the bitter seeds, then she put the rest of the seeds carefully in her waist-pouch, and she get up and say, just as polite and smilin’ as Mr Fox hisself, “Thank you the kindest for your fine treat, Mr. Fox! I’ll take some of these nice grapeseeds home with me just to remember your great favor, and to keep me from forgettin’ it when I gets a chance to pay it back.” Then she made Mr. Fox her best farewell bow and scrape and ambled back home.
Some days after that, when Mr. Fox was snoozin’ at home, here come Madam Possum amblin’ up like somebody totin’ big news to a neighbor. She knocked at Mr. Fox’s door loud and fast and woked him up, and when he come to the door rubbin’ the sleep out of his face with his before-paws, she asks, “Oh, Mr. Fox, does you like persimmonses?”
“I don’t know. I ain’t never taste none,” answers Mr. Fox, yawnin’ and stretchin’ like he done forgot all his good manners, or done lost ’em altogether.
“Well,” says Madam Possum, talkin’ pert and lively, “wake up and come along with me and try some of the fine persimmonses I just found in a tree just loaded down with ’em in the woods not so far from here. If you does you’ll surely say that persimmonses beats grapes for good eatin’ out of sight and hearin’.”
That talk of somethin’ better’n ripe grapes rubbed all the sleep out of Mr. Fox’s eyes quicker’n his paws could. So he bounces out of his house to Madam Possum, and off they puts, and again they ambled and trotted away together till they come to a persimmon tree full of ripe and green persimmonses.
When they got there Madam Possum started right away to climb that tree, but before she’d gone more’n halfways up the trunk she stopped and called down, “Mr. Fox, I can’t throw the persimmonses down to the ground like I done the grapes, because they’s so soft when they’s ripe they’s get so badly squashed by the fall they wouldn’t be fittin’ to eat, but I’ll bring down enough for both of us in my pouch.”
Then Mr. Fox sot down again on his haunches and curled his bushy tail around ’em, and grinned with his mouth wide open and drippin’ water, and his bright eyes lookin’ up watchin’ Mrs. Possum pickin’ the persimmonses.
Madam Possum, who were the largest lady of all her set in all of them woods, had a mighty big pouch at the bottom of her waist, and she put all the ripe persimmonses in the right side of her natural reticule, and for every ripe one she picked she pulled a green persimmon and dropped it in the left side, and when the bag was full enough for both she come on down the tree.
When she joined Mr. Fox on the ground she says, “Company served first, Mr. Fox,” and she hands him out a green persimmon and takes a ripe one for herself, a green for Mr. Fox, a ripe for Madam Possum, green for him, and ripe for her, and so on. About the time her persimmonses was all gone and et up the green ones beginned to act withMr. Fox like they always does with the fool boys and the fool beasties who don’t know nothin’ about green persimmonses and their deceitful ways. Mr. Fox’s mouth commenced to pucker, his throat begin to get thick in the gullet, his tongue to draw up tight, and his innards to ache mighty bad.
“What you laughin’ at, Mr. Fox?’ asked Madam Possum when that wide mouth of his got so drawed up he couldn’t shut it no more.
“Ar-ar-ar, goo-ar-ar, goo-ar-ar-ar!” goes Mr. Fox, tryin’ to talk back to Madam Possum and ask her what she mean by playin’ him such a low down ornery trick as that. His tongue was too twisted and his mouth too puckered to talk, so that was the bestest he could do, that “ar-ar-ar” and “goo-ar-ar!”
Then says Madam Possum, as polite and smilin’ as Mr. Fox was the day of the grapeseed dinner, “I’s glad, Mr. Fox, you found your persimmon feast so fine it makes you feel like singin’ such a pretty tune as that.”
At that Mr. Fox got so fightin’ mad with Madam Possum he flewed at her like he was goin’ to tear her to pieces right then and there, but when he bit the first bite at her he found’ he couldn’t shut his jaws tight enough to bite butter, the green persimmonses had drawed up his mouth so much. Then ole Madam Possum just laid right down on the ground’ and grinned way back to her ears, and she squalls out to Mr. Fox, scarin’ him most out of his senses, “Persimmonses is better’n grapeseeds for Possums, Mr. Fox, but they’s rank poison for Foxes, and the onliest way now for you to unpucker your mouth, ease your innards, and save your life is to take some right hot chicken soup. But you better learn how to catch young pullets before you tries to fool ole Possums.”
When she had her laugh out, ole Lady Possum got up and ambled on home to get dinner.
Possum photo by Texas Eagle at Flickr https://www.flickr.com/photos/texaseagle/4445781656
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