in.

Heddie--Well, I is studied up one tune what I been hear de old people
sing when I wasn' nothin much more den a puppy--Lord a mercy, Miss
Lizzie, dere dem people comin from de trial. Look, dere dey fetchin dat
girl to Dr. Graham now. En my Lord, got de poor child's head all wrapped
up dat way. Dat man, he ought to have he head plucked. He know better
den to cut dat child so close de senses. Don' know what de matter wid de
people nohow.

Lizzie--Ain' nothin but de devil, Miss--

(Boy, about 8 years old, comes across the street and hands Lizzie a
bundle).

Pickle--Miss Lizzie, ma say dere your sewin.

Lizzie--Thank you, son, thank you a thousand times again. Tell your
mamma de old hen a scratchin bout out dere in de yard now huntin de nest
en ain' gwine be no long time fore I can be catchin her a chicken to put
in de pot. Yes, Lord, I got to start savin dem egg dis very day for de
settin. (Lizzie turns to her visitor on the porch and continues her
conversation). Miss Rosa, she does do all my sewin for me en I generally
gives her eggs for her kindness. I sorry dere so much of huntin egg de
same day.

(Little boy, Pickle, looks disappointed and continues to hang around).

Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, sing somethin.

Lizzie--You want me to sing so bad, sugar, en I ain' know nothin
neither. Heddie, turn me one.

Heddie--Gwine on en spill dat one yourself what you been tell me bout de
other mornin en quit your pickin on me.

Lizzie--Well, I tryin to get myself together, but dere so much of
travelin en so much of chillun, I can' collect--

Alfred--Aun' Izzie, can I go to whe' Jerry gone?

Lizzie--No, boy, you know I ain' got no mind to let you go runnin off
dat way. (Lizzie calls to Mammie in the room). Mammie, look dere to de
clock. I gettin in a fidget to get some of dese chillun way from here.

(Pickle still hangs around).

Lizzie--Joseph, come here.

Joseph--Un-uh.

Lizzie--Boy, don' you grunt at me dat way. Come here, I say. Go dere in
de chicken house en hunt dat one egg en give it to Pickle to carry to he
mamma.--Got to scatter dese chillun way from here--

Joseph--Here de egg, Aun' Izzie.

Lizzie--Fetch it dere to Pickle den. Boy, tell your mamma I sorry I ain'
had no egg to send her 'cept just dat one nest egg. Tell her, when she
buss dat egg, she better look right sharp en see is de hen ain' got it
noways addle like cause--

Bertha Lee--Aun' Izzie, how my nose is?

Lizzie--Look bad. Gwine on