EELER.

New star, Uncle? Tell us about it. Sounds interesting.

UNCLE ABE.

_Stares at each of them in turn._

Ain' you-all heerd?

BEELER.

You've got the advantage of us.

UNCLE ABE.

Ain' you-all heerd 'bout de Healer?

BEELER.

Healer? What kind of a healer?

UNCLE ABE.

_With mounting indignation at Beeler's tone._

De Bible kin', dat's what kin'! De kin' what makes de lame fer to walk,
and de blin' fer to see, an' de daid fer to riz up outen their daid
col' graves. That's what kin'! Mean to say you-all ain' heerd nothin'
'bout him, you po' chillun o' dawkness?

_Martha and Beeler look at each other in amazement. Rhoda sits
looking at the old negro, white and tense with excitement._

BEELER.

Nope.

_Recollecting._

Hold on!

MARTHA.

_To Beeler._

Don't you remember, in the papers, two or three weeks ago? Where was
it? Somewheres out West.

BEELER.

Believe I did read some such goin's-on. Don't pay much attention to
such nonsense.

UNCLE ABE.

_Solemn and threatening._

Tek keer, Mistah Beeler! Tek keer what you say 'fore dese here cloudy
witnesses. Don' you go cuttin' yo'self off from de Kingdom. Nor you,
Mis' Martha, nor you, honey. Don' ye do it! It's a-comin'. Yo' ol'
Uncle Abe he's seen and heerd.

RHODA.

Tell us quickly what you mean!

UNCLE ABE.

Mean jes' what I says, honey. Night fo' last, de Healer, he come,
like's if he jes' plum' drop from de sky.

_More mysteriously._

An' whar's he gone to? You listen to yo' ol' Uncle Abe a-tellin' you.
He ain' gone no-whars! He's jes' meechin' roun' in de fawg, a-waitin'
fer de Lawd to call folks. En He's a-callin' 'em! He's a-callin' 'em by
tens an' by hundreds. Town's full a'ready, honey. Main Street look jes'
lak a fiel' hospital, down Souf durin' de wah!

MARTHA.

_Meeting Beeler's astonished look._

What did I tell you? Maybe you'll listen to _me_ next time.

RHODA.

_To Uncle Abe, in a low, agitated voice._

This man you call the Healer--is he alone?

UNCLE ABE.

No, honey; folks says he don' nevah go no-wheres by hisse'f. Always got
that thah young man wif 'im what he raise from de daid.

BEELER.

_Rises, with a shrug._

Good evening!

_He crosses to the portraits of Darwin and Spencer._

You made quite a stir in your time, didn't you? Well, it's all up with
you!

MARTHA.

_In a voice strident with nervousness._

Raised from the dead