)
HAWK: (Scoring again) Two!
(Can be repeated any number of times.)
HAWK: Four. (He rises and imitates a hawk flying and trying to catch a
chicken. Calling in a high voice:) Chickee.
HEN: (Flapping wings to protect her young) My chickens sleep.
HAWK: Chickee. (During all this the hawk is feinting and darting in
his efforts to catch a chicken, and the chickens are dancing
defensively, the hen trying to protect them.)
HEN: My chicken's sleep.
HAWK: I shall have a chick.
HEN: You shan't have a chick.
HAWK: I'm goin' home. (Flies off)
HEN: Dere's de road.
HAWK: My pot's a boilin'.
HEN: Let it boil.
HAWK: My guts a growlin'.
HEN: Let 'em growl.
HAWK: I must have a chick.
HEN: You shan't have n'airn.
HAWK: My mama's sick.
HEN: Let her die.
HAWK: Chickie!
HEN: My chicken's sleep.
(HAWK darts quickly around the hen and grabs a chicken and leads him
off and places his captive on his knees at the store porch. After a
brief bit of dancing he catches another, then a third, etc.)
HAMBO: (At the checker board, his voice rising above the noise of the
playing children, slapping his sides jubilantly) Ha! Ha! I got you
now. Go ahead on and move, Joe Clark ... jus' go ahead on and move.
LOUNGERS: (Standing around two checker players) Ol' Deacon's got you
now.
ANOTHER VOICE: Don't see how he can beat the Mayor like that.
ANOTHER VOICE: Got him in the Louisville loop. (These remarks are
drowned by the laughter of the playing children directly in front of
the porch.
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