XXXIII. WHY THE NEGRO IS BLACK
ONE night, while the little boy was watching Uncle Remus
twisting and waxing some shoe-thread, he made what appeared to
him to be a very curious discovery. He discovered that the palms
of the old man's hands were as white as his own, and the fact was
such a source of wonder that he at last made it the subject of
remark. The response of Uncle Remus led to the earnest recital of
a piece of unwritten history that must prove interesting to
ethnologists.
"Tooby sho de pa'm er my han's w'ite, honey," he quietly
remarked, "en, w'en it come ter dat, dey wuz a time w'en all de
w'ite folks 'uz black--blacker dan me, kaze I done bin yer so
long dat I bin sorter bleach out."
The little boy laughed. He thought Uncle Remus was making him
the victim of one of his jokes; but the youngster was never more
mistaken. The old man was serious. Nevertheless, he failed to
rebuke the ill-timed mirth of the child, appearing to be
altogether engrossed in his work. After a while, he resumed:
"Yasser. Fokes dunner w'at bin yit, let 'lone w'at gwinter be.
Niggers is niggers now, but de time wuz w'en we 'uz all niggers
tergedder."
"When was that, Uncle Remus?"
"Way back yander.
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