ANOTHER VILLAGER: Yes, we do, too. Elder Simms is right....
(The argument becomes a hubbub of voices.)
TAYLOR: (Putting down his basket) Now, I tell you a jail....
MRS. TAYLOR: (Emerging from the store door, arms full of groceries,
looking at her husband) Yeah, and if you don't shut up and git these
rations home I'm gonna be worse on you than a jail and six judges.
Pickup that basket and let's go. (TONY meekly picks up the basket and
he and his wife exit as the sound of an approaching guitar is heard
off stage.)
(Two carelessly dressed, happy-go-lucky fellows enter together. One is
fingering a guitar without playing any particular tune, and the other
has his hat cocked over his eyes in a burlesque, dude-like manner.
There are casual greetings.)
WALTER: Hey, there, bums, how's tricks?
LIGE: What yo' sayin', boys?
HAMBO: Good evenin' sons.
LIGE: How did you-all make out this evenin', boys?
JIM: Oh, them white folks at the party shelled out right well. Kept
Dave busy pickin' it up. How much did we make today, Dave?
DAVE: (Striking his pocket) I don't know, boy, but feels right heavy
here. Kept me pickin' up money just like this.... (As JIM picks a few
dance chords, Dave gives a dance imitation of how he picked up the
coins from the ground as the white folks threw them.) We count it
after while. Woulda divided up with you already if you hadn't left me
when you seen Daisy comin' by. Let's sit down on the porch and rest
now.
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