ter making due allowance for the
apparent universality of all primitive folk-stories, in distinguishing
between the myths or legends of the two races, though it sometimes
happens, as in the case of the negro story of the Rabbit, the Wildcat,
and the Turkeys, that the stories are built upon until they are made to
fit the peculiarities of the race that borrows them. The Creek version
of the Rabbit, Wildcat, and Turkey story is to the effect that the
Wildcat pretended to be dead, and the Rabbit persuaded the Turkeys to go
near him. When they are near enough, the Rabbit exclaims: "Jump up and
catch a red-leg! jump up and catch a red-leg!" The Wildcat catches one,
and proceeds to eat it, whereupon the Turkeys pursue the Rabbit, and
peck and nip him until his tail comes off, and this is the reason the
Rabbit has a short tail. The Creeks, as well as other tribes, were long
in contact with the negroes, some of them were owners of slaves, and it
is perhaps in this way that the animal stories of the two races became
in a measure blended. The discussion of this subject cannot be pursued
here, but it is an interesting one. It offers a wide field for both
speculation and investigation.

The "Cutta Cord-la" story (p. 241) of Daddy Jack is in some respects
unique. It was sent to the writer by Mrs. Martha B. Washington, of
Charleston, South Carolina, and there seems to be no doubt that it
originated in San Domingo or Martinique. The story of how Brother Rabbit
drove all the other animals out of the new house they had built, by
firing a cannon and pouring a tub of water down the stairway, has its
variant in Demerara. Indeed, it was by means of this variant, sent by
Mr. Wendell P. Garrison, of "The Nation" (New York), that the negro
story was procured.

In the introduction to the first volume of Uncle Remus, a lame apology
was made for inflicting a book of dialect upon the public. Perhaps a
similar apology should be made here; but the discriminating reader does
not need to be told that it would be impossible to separate these
stories from the idiom in which they have been recited for generations.
The dialect is a part of the legends themselves, and to present them in
any other way would be to rob them of everything that gives them
vitality. The dialect of Daddy Jack, which is that of the negroes on the
Sea Islands and the rice plantations, though it may seem at first glance
to be more difficult than that of Uncle Remus, is, in reality,