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| Table of Contents | |
| Section | Page |
| Start of eBook | 1 |
| Author: Zora Neale Hurston | 1 |
| THREE PLAYS | 1 |
| LAWING AND JAWING | 1 |
| TIME: Present | 1 |
| TIME: Present | 5 |
| Lincoln Mob | 5 |
| CURTAIN | 6 |
Release Date: November 29, 2005 [eBook #17187]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-us (us-ASCII)
***Start of the project gutenberg EBOOK three plays***
E-text prepared by Charlene Taylor and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) from page images generously provided by the American Memory Project of the Library of Congress (http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/)
Note: These plays have been transcribed from
original manuscripts.
There are pencilled
notations possibly by Ms. Hurston herself.
These pencilled
notations have been transcribed as
[Handwritten:(text)],
with the exception
of things that were clearly corrected typing
mistakes.
Uncorrected typographical errors were left as in the
original.
Words which were underlined in the text are enclosed
by underscores
("_").
Images of the original pages are available through the American Memory Collection of the Library of Congress. For “Lawing and Jawing” see http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/S?
ammem/hurstonbib:@field(title+@od1(Lawing+and+Jawing)) For “Forty Yards” see http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-
bin/query/S?ammem/hurstonbib:@field(title+@od1(Forty+Yards)) For “Woofing” see http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/
query/S?ammem/hurstonbib:@field(title+@od1(Woofing))
Lawing and Jawing
Forty Yards
Woofing
by
Zora Neale Hurston
by Zora [Handwritten: (Neale)] Hurston
Place: Way cross Georgia
Scene: Judge Dunfumy’s Court.
Persons: Judge Dunfumy, Officer Simpson
and another, Jemima
Flapcakes,
Cliff Mullins, John Barnes, two lawyers,
a
clerk, a pretty girl and her escort.
Setting: Usual court-room arrangement,
except that there is a
large
red arrow pointing off-stage left, marked
“To
Jail.”
Action: At rise everybody is in place
except the Judge.
Suddenly
the clerk looks off-stage right and motions
for
everybody to rise. Enter the Judge.
He wears a
black
cap and gown and has his gavel in his hand.
The
two policemen walk behind him holding up his gown.
He
mounts the bench and glares all about him before he
seats
Judge
Hear! Hear! Court is set! My honor
is on de bench. You moufy folks set
up!
(He
glares at the boy with the pretty girl)
All right, Mr. Whistle-britches, just keep up dat
jawing now and see
how much time I’ll give you!
Boy
I wasn’t talking, your honor.
Judge
Well, quit looking so moufy.
(to
clerk)
Call de first case. And I warn each and all dat
my honor is in bad
humor dis mawnin’. I’d give a canary
bird twenty years for peckin’
at a elephant.
(to
clerk)
Bring ’em on.
Clerk
(Reading)
Cliff Mullins, charged with assault upon his wife
with a weapon and
disturbing the peace.
(As
Cliff is led to the bar by the
officer,
the Judge glares ferociously
at
the prisoner. His wife, all
bandages,
limps up to the bar at the
same
time.)
Judge So youse one of dese hard-boiled wife-beaters, huh? Just a mean old woman-Jessie! If I don’t lay a hearing on you, God’s a gopher! Now what made you cut such a caper?
Cliff
Judge, I didn’t go hunt her. Saturday night
I was down on Dearborn
Street in a nasty ditch [Handwritten: nasty
ditch crossed out in
pencil, (buffet flat)]—
Judge
A nasty ditch? [Handwritten: A nasty ditch
crossed out in pencil,
(Buffet flat)]
Cliff
Aw, at Emma Hayles’ house.
Judge
Oh, yes. Go on.
Cliff
Well,
(Points
thumb at wife)
she come down dere and claim I took her money and
she claimed I wuz
spending it on Emma.
Cliff’s wife
And dat’s just whut he was doing, too, Judge.
Cliff
Aw, she’s tellin’ a great big ole
Georgia lie, Judge. I wasn’t spendin’
no money of her’n.
Woman Yes he was, Judge. There wasn’t no money for him to git but mine. He ain’t hit a lick of work since God been to Macon. Know whut he ’lowed when I worry him ‘bout workin’? Says he wouldn’t take a job wid de Careless Love Lumber Company, puttin’ out whut make you do me lak you do, do, do.
Judge
So, you goes for a sweet-back, do you?
Cliff
Naw suh, Judge. I’d be glad to work if
I could find a job.
Judge
How long you been outa work?
Cliff
Seventeen years—
Judge
Seventeen years?
(to
woman)
You been takin’ keer of dis man for seventeen
years?
Woman
Naw, but he been so mean to me, it seems lak seventeen
years.
Judge
Now you tell me just where he hurt you.
Woman
Judge, tell you de truth, I’m hurt all over.
(Rubs
her buttocks)
Fact is I’m cut.
Judge
Did you git cut in de fracas?
Woman
(feeling
the back of her left thigh
below
her buttocks)
Not in de fracas, Judge—just below it.
(She
starts to show the Judge where
she
has been cut. He motions to stop
her.)
Judge
Stop!
(to
Officer Simpson)
Grab him. Put him in de shade.
Cliff
Judge, I’m unguilty! I ain’t laid
de weight of my hand on her in malice.
You got me ’cused of murder and I ain’t
harmed a child.
Judge
Lemme ast you something. Didn’t
you know dat all de women in dis town
belongs to me? Beat my women and I’ll stuff
you in jail. 90 years. Take
’im away.
(Cliff
is led off to jail. Judge looks
angrily
at the boy who is holding
hands
with the pretty girl)
You runs me hot and I’m just dyin’ to
sit on yo’ case.
Whut you in here for?
Boy
Nothin’.
Judge
Well, whut you doin’ in my court, you gater-faced
rascal?
Boy
My girl wanted to see whut was goin’ on, so
I brought
her in.
Judge
Oh yeah!
(Smiles
at girl)
She was usin’ good sense to come see whut I’m
doin’, but how come you
come in here? You gointer have a hard time gittin’
out.
Boy
I ain’t done a thing. I ain’t never
done nothin’. I’m just as clean as
a
fish, and he been bathin’ all his life.
Judge
You ain’t done nothin’, hunh? Well
den youse guilty of vacancy. Grab
’im, Simpson, and search ’im—and
if he got any concealed weapons, I’m
gointer give ‘im life-time and eight years mo’.
(The
officer seizes the boy and frisks
him.
All he finds is a new deck of
cards.
The Judge looks at them in
triumph.)
Unh hunh! I knowed it, one of dese skin game
jelly-beans. Robbin’ hard
workin’ men out they money.
Boy
Judge, I ain’t used ’em at all. See,
dey’s brand new.
Judge Well, den youse charged
wid totin’ concealed cards and attempt to gamble.
Ten years at hard labor. Put him in de dark, Simpson,
and throw de key away.
(He looks at the girl
and beams.)
Don’t you worry bout how you gointer git home.
You gointer be took home right, ’cause I’m
gointer take you myself. Bring on de next one,
clerk.
Clerk
Jemima Flap-Cakes, charged with illegal possession
and sale of alcoholic
liquors.
Judge
(She
is a fat, black, belligerent
looking
woman. Judge looks coldly at
her.)
Well, you heard whut he said. Is you guilty or
unguilty? And I’m tellin’
you right now dat you come up befo’ me
it’s just like youse in church.
You better have a strong determination, and you better
tell a good
experience.
Jemima
(Arms
akimbo)
Yes, I sold it and I’ll sell it again.
(snaps
fingers and shakes hips)
How does ole booze-selling mama talk?
Judge
Yes, five thousand dollars and ten years in jail.
(Snaps
fingers and shakes hips)
How does ole heavy fining papa talk?
(She
is led away, shouting and
weeping)
Clerk
De Otis Blunt, charged wid stealin’ a mule.
(Lawyer
arises and comes forward with
the
prisoner)
Lawyer
You can’t convict this man. I’m here
to represent him.
Judge
Yo’ mouf might spout lak a coffee pot but I
got a lawyer
(Looks
at other lawyer)
dat kin beat your segastuatin’.
(Looks
admiring at girl)
How am I chewin’ my dictionary and minglin’
my alphabets?
Lawyer
Well, I kin try, can’t I?
Judge
Oh yeah, you kin try, but I kin see right now where
he’s gointer git all
de time dat God ever made dat ain’t been used
already. From now on.
(To
lawyer)
Go ‘head, and spread yo’ lungs all over
Georgy, but he’s goin’ to jail!
Mules must be respected.
LAWYER
(Striking
a pose at the bar)
Your Honor,
(Looks
at the pretty girl)
Ladies and Gentlemen—
JUDGE
Never mind ‘bout dat lady. You talk yo’
chat to me.
LAWYER
This is a clear case of syllogism! Again I say
syllogism. My client is
innocent because it was a dark night when they say
he stole the mule and
that’s against all laws of syllogism.
(JUDGE
looks impressed and laughs)
JUDGE
Dat ole fool do know somethin’ ’bout law.
LAWYERWhen George Washington was pleading de case of Marbury vs. Madison, what did he say? What did he say? Scintillate, scintillate, Globule orific. Fain would I fathom thy nature’s specific. Loftily poised in ether capacious, strongly resembling a gem carbonacious. What did Abraham Lincoln say about mule-stealing? When torrid Phoebut refuses his presence and ceases to lamp with fierce incandescence, then you illumine the regions supernal, scintillate, scintillate, semper noctornal. Syllogism, again I say syllogism.
JUDGE
Man, youse a pleadin’ fool. You knows yo’
rules and by-laws.
OTHER LAWYER
Let me show my glory. Let me spread my habeas
corpus.
JUDGE
’Tain’t no use. Dis lawyer done convinced
me.
OTHER LAWYER
But, lemme parade my material—
JUDGE
Parade yo’ material anywhere you wants to exceptin’
befo’ me. Dis lil
girl wants to go home and I’m goin’ with
her and enjoy de consequences.
Court’s adjourned.
CURTAIN
“FORTY YARDS”
by
ZORA [Handwritten: (Neale)] HURSTON
“FORTY YARDS”
(A
Negro football game with the
popular
concept of Negro life)
PLACE: Washington, D.C.
SCENE: The Ball Park
PERSONS: The Howard and Lincoln teams, the
Howard band, cheer
leaders,
spectators.
SETTING: The park with grandstands on either sides and up-stage.
ACTION: At rise, the grandstands are full,
the cheer leaders
are
violently gyrating to whip up the mob. The
Lincoln
colors fly from the right. The Howard from the
left.
Both have cheer leaders. First is heard the
Lincoln
mob singing “DIDN’T HE RAMBLE, RAMBLE.”
And didn’t he ramble, ramble,
ramble all around, in and out of town
He rambled, he rambled, rambled till Ol’
Lincoln cut him down
Howard Mob
There’ll be nothing
but sweetmeats, for our football team
There’ll be nothing
but sweetmeats for our football team
Baked Hampton, boiled Shaw,
fried Union, Lincoln Slaw,
There’ll be nothing
but sweetmeats, for our football team.
(Enter the HOWARD BAND, led by a hot-strutting drum major. They parade the field and the men students pile down and fall in behind the team. They sing and shout to the TEAM SONG:)
This is the t-e-a-m team
On which the hopes of Howard
lean
Beat Ol’ Hampton, beat
Ol’ Union
Sweep Ol’ Lincoln clean
We are the b-e-s-t best
Of the r-e-s-t rest
Come and watch us put Ol’
Howard
On top of Lincoln’s
chest.
We’ll hit the l-i-n-e
line
For a hundred ninety-nine
For we love Ol’ Howard,
yes we love her
All the t-i-m-e time.
(At the conclusion the teams takes the field. The ball is put into play and LINCOLN kicks off to Howard. As the ball is caught and when the player who is carrying the ball plunges, followed by his team, the Lincoln players fall on their knees and begin to sing I COULDN’T HEAR NOBODY PRAY. The HOWARD team charges down shouting Joshua fit de battle of Jericho. Whenever a player is tackled there is a duet of dancing. Every step is a dance. Finally the grandstand catches fire and the dancing and the shouting runs riot up there. When the ball is on Lincoln’s ten-yard line, they hold Howard there by rounding up both teams into a huddle and the bunch-shout and sing to a QUICK CURTAIN.)
LINCOLN’S PRAYER:
Ah, ah, they shall not ah
pass us
Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord
They shall not pass us, Ah-h-h-h.
[Handwritten (Jul. 21, 1931)]
"WOOFING"
By
ZORA *[Handwritten (Neale)] HURSTON
"WOOFING"
TIME: Present.
PLACE: Negro Street in Waycross, Ga.
PERSONS: Loungers, two children, guitar
players,
women, band—
SETTING: Porch and side walk, etc.
ACTION: Thru the open window of ‘one’
of
the
shacks a WOMAN is discovered
ironing.
A MAN is sitting on the
floor
of the porch asleep. She
hums
a bar or two, then comes to
the
window and calls to the man.
Woman Good Black, why don’t you git up from dere and carry dese white folks clothes home? You always want money but you wouldn’t hit a lick at a snake!
Man
Aw, shut up woman. I’m tired of hearin’
bout dem white folks clothes. I
don’t keer if dey never git ’em.
Woman
You better keer! Dese very clothes took and brought
you out de crack.
‘Cause de first time I saw you you was so hungry
till you was walkin’
lap-legged. Man, you had de white-mouf, you was
so hungry.
(Enter
another MAN leisurely. Good
Black sees him and calls)
Good Black
Hey, Cliffert, where you headed for?
Cliffert
Oh, no where in particular.
Good Black
Come here then, fish, and lemme bend a checker game
over yo’ head. Come
on, youse my fish.
Cliffert
(Comes
to the porch and sits)
Git de checkers and I’ll have you any, some
or none. I push a mean
chuck-a-luck myself.
Woman
(Voice
inside quarreling)
Dress up and strut around! Yes! Play checkers?
Yes! Eat? Yes! Work? No!!
(The game starts. A period of silence in which they indicate their concentration by frowns, cautious moves, head scratching. GOOD BLACK is pointing his index finger over the board indicating moves. He wig-wags, starts to move, scratches his head thoroughly, changes his mind and fools around without moving)
Cliffert
Police! Police! Come here and make dis man
move!
Good Black
Aw, I got plenty moves.
(Scratches
his head)
Jus’ tryin’ to see which one I want to
make. But when I do move, it’s
gointer be just too bad for you.
(A guitar
is heard off stage and
Cliffert brightens.
He cups his hand
and calls)
Cliffert
Hey Lonnie! Come here! Ha, ha, ha!
I got me a fish.
(Enter
LONNIE picking “East Coast” on
his
box and stands watching the game.
He
ceases to play as he stops walking)
Ha, ha! You see ol’ Good Black goes for
a hard guy. He tries to know
more than a mule and a mule’s head longer’n
his’n. Ha, ha! I set a trap
for him and he fell right in it. Trying to ride
de britches! Now look
at him.
Good Black
Aw, shut up! You tryin’ to show yo’
grandma how to milk ducks. You can’t
beat me playin’ no checkers.
(Scratches
his head again)
Just watch me show my glory.
Woman
(Leans
out of window)
Good Black! When you gointer come git dese clothes!
(He
does not answer, he is trying to
concentrate)
Lonnie
You got him Cliffert. You got him in Louisville
Loop. He’s yo’ fish all
right.
Cliffert
(Boastfully)
Man, didn’t I push a mean chuck-a-luck dat time!
I’m good, better, and
best. Move, Man!
(To
Good Black)
I tole you not to do it.
Good Black
All dat noise ain’t playin’ checkers.
You just wait till I make my move.
Woman All right, now, Mr. Nappy-Chin! I don’t want to have to call you no mo’ to come keer dese white folks clothes! I’m tired of takin’ and takin’ affa you! My belly’s full clear up to de neck. I don’t need no lazy coon lak you nohow. I’m a good woman, and I needs somebody dats gointer give aid and assistance.
Good Black,
Aw, go head on’, woman, and leave me be!
Every Saturday it’s de same
thing! Yo’ mouth exhausting like a automobile.
You worse than “cryin’
Emma”. You kin whoop like de Seaboard and
squall lak de Coast Line.
(Taps
his head)
You ain’t go all dat b’long to you,
and nothin’ dat b’long to nobody’s
else. You better leave me ’lone before
you make a bad man out of me.
Fool wid me and I’ll go git me somebody else.
I’m a much-right man.
Woman Now you ain’t no much right man neither. You didn’t git me wid no saw-mill license—You went to de court house and paid a dollar and a half for me. Tain’t no other woman got as much right to you as I got. De Man to tell you youse divorced befo’ yo’ kin play dat much-right on me!
Good Black
De Man don’t have to tell me nothin’!
I got divorce in my heels.
Woman You ain’t de only one dat knows where de railroad track is, I done made up my mind, and I done promised Gabriel and a couple of other men dat if yo’ don’t do no better than yo’ been doin’, I’m gointer pack me a suit case and grab de first smoky thing I see. I’ll be long gone.
Good Black
Aw, yo’ ain’t no trouble! Yo’
can be had. Yo’ ain’t never gointer
leave me.
Woman
How come I won’t? Just ‘cause I been
takin’ keer of yo’, don’t make a
park ape out yo’self. I’ll leave
yo’, just as sure as yo’ snore!
Good Black
(Rises
and hitches up his trousers)
Aw, yo’ ain’t gointer leave me, and if
yo’ go, yo’ wouldn’t stay, ’cause
I’m a damn sweet man, and yo’ know it!
Lonnie
Hey, Hey!
(He
begins to pick and Good Black
sings.
Lonnie sings a line now and
then)
Good Black
Yo’ may leave and go to Hali-muh-fack
But my slow drag will—uh bring
yo’ back
Well yo’ may go, but this will bring
yo’ back
I been in de country but I moved
to town
I’m a tolo-shaker from my head on down
Well, yo’ may go, but this will bring yo’
back
Some folks call me a tolo-shaker
It’s a doggone lie I’m a back-bone
breaker
Well, yo’ may go, but this will
bring yo’ back.
Oh, ship on de sea, boat on de ocean
I raise hell when I take a notion
Well, yo’ may go, but this will
bring yo’ back.
Oh, who do, who do, who do wackin’
Wid my hells a’ poppin’ and
my toe-nails crackin’
Well, yo’ may go, but this will
bring yo’ back.
Woman Dat’s all right too, pap but if yo’ can’t make me tote dese clothes home, don’t bring de mess up. Yo’se abstifically a humbug.
Cliffert
Man, come on back here and move, or else own up to
de folks yo’ can’t
push no checkers wid me.
(He
sits and begins to lay out moves
with
his fingers and scratch his head.
Enter
another MAN and stands akimbo
looking
over Cliff’s shoulder)
Cliff
(Looking
up)
Don’t stand over me lak dat, ugly as yo’
is.
Man (Skanko)
You ain’t nobody’s pretty baby yo’self!
Cliff
Dat’s all right, I ain’t as ugly as yo’—youse
ugly enough to git behind
a Simpoon weed and hatch monkies.
Man (Skanko)
And youse ugly enough to git behind a tombstone and
hatch hants.
Cliff
Youse so ugly dey have to cover yo’ face up
at night so sleep can slip
up on yo’.
Man (Skanko)
You look like ten cents worth of Have-Mercy.
Yo’ face look lak ole Uncle
Jump-off. Yo’ mouth look lak a bunch of
ruffles.
Cliff
Yeah, but yo’ done passed me. Yo’
so ugly till they could throw yo’ in
de Mississippi River and skim ugly for six months.
Man (Skanko)
Look here, Cliff, don’t yo’ personate
me! Counting from de little finger
back to de thumb—yo’ start anythin’,
I go yo’ some.
Cliff Go head and grab me buddie, but if yo’ don’t know how to turn me loose too, don’t bring de mess up! If yo’ hit me, I may not beat you, but yo’ll be so dirty when St. Peter git yo’ dat he can’t use yo’.
Man (Skanko)
Don’t call me buddy. Yo’ buddy
is huntin’ coconuts. Don’t yo’
try to
throw me for a nap. Do. I’ll kill
yo’ so stiff dead they’ll have to push
yo’ down. Yo’ gointer to make me
do some double cussin’ on you.
(He
picks up a heavy stick and walks
back
towards Cliff)
Now I got dis farmer’s choice in my hands, yo’
better git outa my face.
Cliff
Yo’ wanta fight?
Man
Yeah I wanta fight. Put it where I kin use it
and I’ll sho’ use it. I’ll
fight anybody. I get so hot sometimes I fights
de corner of de house.
I’m so hot I totes a pistol to keep from gettin’
in a fight wid myself.
I prints dangerous every time I sit down in, in a
chair.
Cliff Man, this ain’t no fighting weather. Ha, ha, ha! Did yo’ think I was mad sho’ nuff? Yo’ can’t fight me. They’s got to be runnin’ before fightin’ and they’s got to be plenty good runnin’ before dis fight comes off.
Man
All right now. Yo’ leave me alone and I’m
a good man. I’m just like an
old shoe. If yo’ rain on me and cool me
off I’m soft! If yo’ shine on me
and git me hot, I’m hard.
(He
drops the stick and exits)
(Cliff
is shaking all over. He looks
after the Man to be sure
he is gone)
Good Black
Kah, kah, kah. Whut yo’ so scarred about?
De way yo’ was talkin’ I
though yo’ was mad enough to fight.
Cliff
I was. I gits hot real quick! But I’m
very easy cooled when de man I’m
mad wid is bigger’n me.
(He
drops into his seat, wiping his
face)
Man did yo’ see how he grabbed up dat check?
He done skeered me into a
three-week’s spasm!
Good Black’s Wife
Good Black, dese clothes is still waiting.
Good Black
Well, let ’em wait on, I done tole yo’
once. Yo’ kind run yo’ mouf but
yo’ can’t run my business.
(Enter
a PRETTY GIRL. She strolls
happily across without
stopping. Good
Black pretends to cough)
Good Black
Who is dat?
Girl
(Turns
and glares at him)
My old man got something for dat cough yo’ got.
Cliff
Dat’s right, tell dese old mullet hear married
men to mind they own
business. Now, take me for instance.
I’m a much-right man.
(Gets
up and approaches her
flirtatiously)
I didn’t quite git yo’ name straight.
Yo’ better tell it to me again.
Girl
My name is Bee Ethel, turned round to Jones.
Cliff
(Flirtatiously)
Yo’ pretty lil ole ground angel yo’?
Where did yo’ come from?
Bee Ethel
Detroit. Yo’ like me?
Cliff
Do I lak yo’? I love yo’ just lak
God loves Gabriel, and dat’s his best
angel. Go ‘head and say somethin’.
I jus’ love to hear yo’ talk.
Bee Ethel
Gimme five dollars. I need some stockings.
Cliff
Now Mama, dis ain’t Gimme, Ga. Dis
is Waycross. I’m just lak de
cemetery. I takes in but never no put out.
I ain’t puttin’ out nothin’
but old folks eyes—and I don’t do
that till they’s dead. Run
long, mama.
(The
girl exits and he resumes his
seat)
Cliff
Come on, Good Black, lemme wrap dis checker roun yo’
neck.
Good Black
Gimme time, gimme time! Don’t try to rush
me.
(He
begins same business of figuring
out
moves and scratching his head)
(Enter
two or three girls and fellows.
The girls are dressed
in cool summer
dresses, but nothing
elaborate)
Lonnie
I know I’m gointer play something now.
(He
tunes and plays “Cold Rainy Day”.
He
begins to sing and the others join
in.
Not all. But all start to dancing.
They
couple off as far as possible and
Lindy.
The men unmated do hot solo
steps.
The men cry out in ecstacy)
1. Shimmy! If you can’t shimmy, shake your head.
2. Look, baby, look! Throw it in de alley
3. Look, if you can’t look, stick out,
and if you can’t stick
out, git out.
(At
the end of the son and dance, one
of
the girls exclaim)
Girl
Aw, we got to go. Mama’s looking for us.
(The
three girls exit, walking
happily.
The men watch them go)
Cliff
Oh boy, look at ’em! Switching it and looking
back at it.
(He
imitates the girl’s walk)
Good Black
Yeah Lawd, ain’t they specifyin’!
They handles a lot of traffic.
Cliff
(Seating
himself again)
Yeah, but dat don’t play no checkers. Come
on here, Good Black
and lemme finish wearing your ant.
Good Black’s Wife
Good Black, yo’ better come git dese clothes.
Lonnie
Good Black, yo’ wife kin cold whoop for what
she want.
Good Black
Yeah and if she don’t git, she keep right on
whoopin’. B’lieve
I wants a drink of water. Wisht I knowed where
I could slip
up on me a drink.
Cliff
Aw man, come on back here and move. Yo’
doin’ everythin’ but playin’
checkers. You’d ruther move a mountain
wid a pry bar than to move
(Points)
dat man.
Good Black
(Seats
himself)
Lemme hurry up and beat dis game befo’ yo’
bust yo’ britches.
(He
wags his finger to indicate moves,
scratches
his head, but doesn’t move.
Several
men enter and group around the
players.
All offer suggestions. One
says,
“you got him Cliffert. He’s
locked
up just as tight as a keyhole”.
Another:
“Aw, man he kin break out!”
Another:
“Yeah, but it’ll cost him
plenty
to git out of dat trap".)
Cliff
Police! Police! He won’t move!
Another Voice
Aw, leave go de checkers and less shoot some crap.
(Enter a WOMAN in a house dress, head rag on, run down house shoes. She goes to the edge of the porch and calls inside)
Woman
Him there Bertha, what yo’ doin’.
Woman Inside
Still bumpin’ de white folks clothes—hittin’
for de sundown man. Come
on in and have some sit down.
Outside Woman
Ain’t got time. Got a house full of company.
I took a minute to see if
yo’ could let me have a little skeeting garret.
Inside Woman
How come yo’ didn’t git yo’self
some snuff whilst yo’ was at de store?
De man ast yo’ what else. I ain’t
no Piggly Wiggly. Reckon I kin spare
yo’ a dip tho.
(She
hands out the box and the outside
woman
fills her lip and hands it back)
Outside Woman
Much obliged, I thank yo’. Reckon I better
heel and toe it on back, to
see how de comp’ny is makin’ out.
Inside Woman
Step inside a minute I want to put a bug in yo’
ear.
(She
makes an urgent gesture and the
other
woman goes inside)
(Lonnie is sitting off to himself and picking “Rabbit on de Log” softly. A small BOY dashes on with a lolly pop in his hand. He is licking it and laughing. He is pursued by a little GIRL yelling “you gimme my all day sucker! Johnny! You gimme my candy, now!” They run all over the stage. The men take notice of them and one of them seizes the boy and restores the candy to the girl. She pokes out her tongue at the boy and says “goody, goody, goody, goody, goody!” She notes the guitar playing and begins to dance. The boy makes faces back at her and dances back at her. The music gets louder, dancing faster, check board gets upset. General laughter at that. When dance is over, boy snatches the lolly pop again and races away and the girl runs behind him yelling “Johnny! You gimme my candy! Johnny!” The music stops and the crap game gets under way. Furious side bets for 5 and 10 cents each. Loud calls on Miss “Daisy Dice”, snake eyes, “Ada from Decatur”. Somebody suggests a soft roll, others object on the ground that it’s too easy for the experts to cheat)
Good Black
Gimme de dice! I’m gointer play ’em
like John Henry.
Lonnie
John Henry didn’t bother wid de bones.
He used to play Georgy Skin.
Good Black He shot crap too. He played everythin’ and everythin’ he played, he played it good. Just like he uster drive steel. If I could whip steel like John Henry, I wouldn’t stay here and nowhere else.
Cliff
Whut would yo’ do?
Good Black
I’d go somewhere and keep books for somebody.
Lonnie
I know how to play John Henry.
Good Black
Well, turn it on and let de bad luck happen.
(As
Lonnie plays thru a verse warming
up,
all the men get interested and
start
to hum. Cliffert shouts out)
Cliff
Lawd, Lawd, what evil have I done)
(They
sing John Henry. At the close,
the
woman who came to borrow snuff
emerges
from the house still talking
back
at the woman inside)
Woman
He ain’t no trouble. I tole him, I says,
“yo’ must think youse de man
dat made side meat taste lak ham.” See
yo’ later.
(She
exits hurriedly. The crap game
goes
on until a band is heard
approaching)
Lonnie
Who dead?
Cliff
Nobody. Don’t you know de Imperial Elks
is goin’ to New York to de Elks
Grand Lodge? Yeah, bo, and they’s takin’
they band. Dat’s supposed to be
de finest band in de United States.
(The
band approaches followed by a
great
crow. The crap game is instantly
deserted
and all follow the band)