A curious exemplification of the power of a single
book for good or harm is shown in the effects wrought
by ‘Don Quixote’ and those wrought by
‘Ivanhoe.’ The first swept the world’s
admiration for the medieval chivalry-silliness out
of existence; and the other restored it. As far
as our South is concerned, the good work done by Cervantes
is pretty nearly a dead letter, so effectually has
Scott’s pernicious work undermined it.
Chapter 47 Uncle Remus and Mr. Cable
Mr. JoelChandlerHarris (’Uncle
Remus’) was to arrive from Atlanta at seven
o’clock Sunday morning; so we got up and received
him. We were able to detect him among the crowd
of arrivals at the hotel-counter by his correspondence
with a description of him which had been furnished
us from a trustworthy source. He was said to
be undersized, red-haired, and somewhat freckled.
He was the only man in the party whose outside tallied
with this bill of particulars. He was said to
be very shy. He is a shy man. Of this there
is no doubt. It may not show on the surface,
but the shyness is there. After days of intimacy
one wonders to see that it is still in about as strong
force as ever. There is a fine and beautiful
nature hidden behind it, as all know who have read
the Uncle Remus book; and a fine genius, too, as all
know by the same sign. I seem to be talking
quite freely about this neighbor; but in talking to
the public I am but talking to his personal friends,
and these things are permissible among friends.
He deeply disappointed a number of children who had
flocked eagerly to Mr. Cable’s house to get
a glimpse of the illustrious sage and oracle of the
nation’s nurseries. They said—
’Why, he ‘s white!’
They were grieved about it. So, to console them,
the book was brought, that they might hear Uncle Remus’s
Tar-Baby story from the lips of Uncle Remus himself—or
what, in their outraged eyes, was left of him.
But it turned out that he had never read aloud to
people, and was too shy to venture the attempt now.
Mr. Cable and I read from books of ours, to show
him what an easy trick it was; but his immortal shyness
was proof against even this sagacious strategy, so
we had to read about Brer Rabbit ourselves.
Mr. Harris ought to be able to read the negro dialect
better than anybody else, for in the matter of writing
it he is the only master the country has produced.
Mr. Cable is the only master in the writing of French
dialects that the country has produced; and he reads
them in perfection. It was a great treat to
hear him read about Jean-ah Poquelin, and about Innerarity
and his famous ‘pigshoo’ representing
‘Louisihanna RIF-fusing to Hanter the Union,’
along with passages of nicely-shaded German dialect
from a novel which was still in manuscript.
It came out in conversation, that in two different
instances Mr. Cable got into grotesque trouble by
using, in his books, next-to-impossible French names
which nevertheless happened to be borne by living and
sensitive citizens of New Orleans. His names were
either inventions or were borrowed from the ancient
and obsolete past, I do not now remember which; but
at any rate living bearers of them turned up, and were
a good deal hurt at having attention directed to themselves
and their affairs in so excessively public a manner.
Copyrights
Life on the Mississippi from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.