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Updated: June 23, 2025
Do not let snake stories deter you from visiting this wonderful and beautiful place, the Lake of the Dismal Swamp. As the boat was being driven along, the driver said: "Boss, did I nebber told you about de big watermillion that Mars. Caleb Busby foun' near dis place?" "No; let me hear something about it." "Well, sir, I will tole you. One day as Mars.
I done smelt de watermillion on de a'r, an' I ain't got no better sense dan fer ter go w'en I years w'ite fokes a-hollerin' I larnt dat w'en I wa'n't so high. Leas'ways I galloped up ter de back po'ch, an' dar sot de watermillions dez ez natchul ez ef dey'd er bin raised on de ole Spivey place in Putmon County.
"Pete Thompson him ez war yander ter the tanyard day 'fore yestiddy with his dad," said the boy, "he tole it ter me ez how he seen a bar las' Wednesday a-climbin' over the fence ter thar cornfield, with a haffen dozen roastin'-ears under his arm an' a watermillion on his head. But WAR it a haffen dozen?
"Ef you backed yo' wagon inter somebody else's watermillion patch by de roadside an' loaded up on yo' way ter town 'fo' sunup I don't say you is, mind yer, but ef you is set right whar you is, an' do des like you been doin', 'caze de money you made on dat early mornin' wagon load ain't fitt'n fur wheels fur de gorspil train!
"Right dar's whar Brer Rabbit drap his watermillion, kaze he tuck'n sot out dat night en went a fishin'. De wedder wuz sorter col', en Brer Rabbit, he got 'im a bottle er dram en put out fer de creek, en w'en he git dar he pick out a good place, en he sorter squot down, he did, en let his tail hang in de water.
Stripping the twigs from a switch, she mutters: "I knows what you's arter; you tuck yoursef to dat watermillion patch, dat whar you gone; but ne' mine, boy, you jest le' me git hold o' you." Then, after a time given to unsuccessful search, calls of "Da-a-vie oh, oh, Dave!" fall upon the stillness, to be answered only by weird echo from the lonely swamp.
Oh, de ham-bone am sweet, An' de bacon am good, An' de 'possum fat am berry, berry fine; But gib me, yes, gib me, Oh, how I wish you would, Dat watermillion growin' on de vine!" Before they knew it the early morning light was creeping in at the small-paned windows. Burns consulted his watch. "If you'll give us a cup of coffee, Aunt Ellen, we'll be off in fifteen minutes.
Out through the open windows they floated, and one astonished villages driving by to take the early train caught the exultant strains: "Oh, see dat watermillion a-smilin' fro' de fence, How I wish dat watermillion it was mine. Oh, de white folks must be foolish, Dey need a heap of sense, Or dye'd nebber leave it dar upon de vine!
Busby was gwine tu de Lake, an' wen he got rite here he ceed on de side ob de cunnel a big snake trien tu swallow a raccoon. He tuk up sumfin' to flro at de snake, an' jes' den he ceed in de bushes a nale keg, an' wus glad dat he had foun' a keg ob nales. But wen he got dar it was a watermillion." "How do you suppose that melon came to grow there?" I asked.
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