Reb. Well, I can learn to forgib you, Pete Holloway; but I advise you neber again to gib such an exasperating shock to my nerves. You know I’m tender.
[They make up and clasp each other. Meanwhile Ike and Clara have not approached each other.
Clara. (Mildly.) I should neber hab tought it ob you, Ichabod Fitzsimmons, neber.
Ike. (Excitedly.) Well, no one cares. I’m satisfied, if no one else is. I guess I can do as I please. Dar’s just as good coons in dis village as eber you were. I neber cared much fo’ de place, anyway.
[Indignantly he proceeds to walk across and off the stage. Clara rushes at him, and knocking him down, puts her foot on him and flourishes a small (imitation) ax over him. Pete and Rebecca run towards her, and take the ax from her. They form a tableau. Ike exclaims tragically: “Saved—saved!”
Pete. You deserved dat, an’ you came widin a hair’s breadth of gettin’ scalped. You’d better forgib her.
[They make up, and joining arms walk R. and L. up the stage, and advance, and sing the following:
Reb. Now, Pete, you mashed and dead gone nigger,
Quit your foolin’ an’ join de rhyme.
Pete. Why, bless you, honey, I’m all attention,