MRS. TAYLOR: You'se tellin' de truth, Sister Blunt. That's whut I
always say: Don't confidence dese niggers. Do, they'll sho put you in
de street.
MRS. THOMAS: Naw indeed, never syndicate wid niggers. Do, they will
distriminate you. They'll be an _anybody_. You goin' to de trial,
ain't you?
MRS. BLUNT: Just as sho as you snore. An' they better leave Daisy's
name outa dis, too. I done told her and told her to come straight home
from her work. Naw, she had to stop by dat store and skin her gums
back wid dem trashy niggers. She better not leave them white folks
today to come traipsin' over here scornin' her name all up wid dis
nigger mess. Do, I'll kill her. No daughter of mine ain't goin' to do
as she please, long as she live under de sound of my voice. (She
crosses to right.)
MRS. THOMAS: That's right, Sister Blunt. I glory in yo' spunk. Lord, I
better go put on my supper.
(As MRS. BLUNT exits, right, REV. CHILDERS enters left with DAVE and
DEACON LINDSAY and SISTER LEWIS. Very hostile glances from SISTERS
THOMAS and TAYLOR toward the others.)
CHILDERS: Good evenin', folks.
(SISTERS THOMAS and TAYLOR just grunt. MRS. THOMAS moves a step or two
towards exit. Flirts her skirts and exits.)
LINDSAY: (Angrily) Whut's de matter, y'all? Cat got yo' tongue?
MRS. TAYLOR: More matter than you kin scatter all over Cincinnatti.
LINDSAY: Go 'head on, Lucy Taylor. Go 'head on. You know a very little
of yo' sugar sweetens my coffee.
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