...
Here she come....
(ENTER MRS. JAKE ROBERTS, a heavy light brown woman with a basket on
her arm. A boy about ten walks beside her carrying a small child about
a year old straddle of his back. Her skirts are sweeping the ground.
She walks up to the step, puts one foot upon the steps and looks
forlornly at all the men, then fixes her look on JOE CLARK.)
MRS. ROBERTS: Evenin', Brother Mayor.
CLARK: Howdy do, Mrs. Roberts. How's yo' husband?
MRS. ROBERTS: (Beginning her professional whine): He ain't much and I
ain't much and my chillun is poly. We ain't got 'nough to eat! Lawd,
Mr. Clark, gimme a lil piece of side meat to cook us a pot of greens.
CLARK: Aw gwan, Sister Roberts. You got plenty bacon home. Last week
Jake bought....
MRS. ROBERTS: (Frantically) Lawd, Mist' Clark, how long you think dat
lil piece of meat last me an' my chillun? Lawd, me and my chillun is
_hongry_! God knows, Jake don't fee-eed me!
(MR. CLARK sits unmoved. MRS. ROBERTS advances upon him)
Mist' Clark!
CLARK: I God, woman, don't keep on after me! Every time I look, youse
round here beggin' for everything you see.
LIGE: And whut she don't see she whoops for it just de same.
MRS. ROBERTS: (In dramatic begging pose) Mist' Clark! Ain't you boin'
do nuthin' for me? And you see me and my poor chillun is starvin'....
CLARK: (Exasperated rises) I God, woman, a man can't git no peace wid
somebody like you in town. (He goes angrily into the store followed by
MRS.
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