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“So atter a w’ile Mars Dugal’ begin ter miss his scuppernon’s. Co’se he ‘cuse’ de niggers er it, but dey all ‘nied it ter de las’. Mars Dugal’ sot spring

guns en steel traps, en he en de oberseah sot up nights once’t er twice’t, tel one night Mars Dugal’ — he ‘uz a monst’us keerless man — got his leg shot full er cow-peas. But somehow er nudder dey couldn’ nebber ketch none er de niggers. I dunner how it happen, but it happen des like I tell yer, en de grapes kep’ on a-goin des de same.

“But bimeby ole Mars Dugal’ fix’ up a plan ter stop it. Dey ‘uz a cunjuh ‘ooman livin’ down mongs’ de free niggers on de Wim’l’ton Road, en all de darkies fum Rockfish ter Beaver Crick wuz feared uv her. She could wuk de mos’ powerfulles’ kind er goopher, — could make people hab fits er rheumatiz, er make ’em des dwinel away en die; en dey say she went out ridin’ de niggers at night, for she wuz a witch ‘sides bein’ a cunjuh ‘ooman. Mars Dugal’ hearn ’bout Aun’ Peggy’s doin’s, en begun ter ‘flect whe’r er no he couldn’ git her ter he’p him keep de niggers off’n de grapevimes. One day in de spring er de year, ole miss pack’ up a basket er chick’n en poun’-cake, en a bottle er scuppernon’ wine, en Mars Dugal’ tuk it in his buggy en driv ober ter Aun’ Peggy’s cabin. He tuk de basket in, en had a long talk wid Aun’ Peggy. De nex’ day Aun’ Peggy come up ter de vimya’d. De niggers seed her slippin’ ‘roun’, en dey soon foun’ out what she ‘uz doin’ dere. Mars Dugal’ had hi’ed her ter goopher de grapevimes. She sa’ntered ‘roun’ mongs’ de vimes, en tuk a leaf fum dis one, en a grape-hull fum dat one, en a grape-seed fum anudder one; en den a little twig fum here, en a little pinch er dirt fum dere, — en put it all in a big black bottle, wid a snake’s toof en a speckle’ hen’s gall en some ha’rs fum a black cat’s tail, e
n den fill’ de bottle wid scuppernon’ wine. W’en she got de goopher all ready en fix’, she tuk ‘n went out in de woods en buried it under de root uv a red oak tree, en den come back en tole one er de niggers she done goopher de grapevimes, en a’er a nigger w’at eat dem grapes ‘ud be sho ter die inside’n twel’ mont’s.

“Atter dat de niggers let de scuppernon’s ‘lone, en Mars Dugal’ didn’ hab no ‘casion ter fine no mo’ fault; en de season wuz mos’ gone, w’en a strange gemman stop at de plantation one night ter see Mars Dugal’ on some business; en his coachman, seein’ de scuppernon’s growin’ so nice en sweet, slip ‘roun’ behine de smoke-house, en et all de scuppernon’s he could hole. Nobody didn’ notice it at de time, but dat night, on de way home, de gemman’s hoss runned away en kill’ de coachman. W’en we hearn de noos, Aun’ Lucy, de cook, she up ‘n say she seed de strange nigger eat’n’ er de scuppernon’s behine de smoke-house; en den we knowed de goopher had b’en er wukkin. Den one er de nigger chilluns runned away fum de quarters one day, en got in de scuppernon’s, en died de nex’ week. W’ite folks say he die’ er de fevuh, but de niggers knowed it wuz de goopher. So you k’n be sho de darkies didn’ hab much ter do wid dem scuppernon’ vimes.