Mrs. P. Poor child! what will become of her when I am gone? If you haven't spoiled her, I fear I have. She has had the education of a lady.
George. I have remarked that she is treated by the neighbors with a kind of familiar condescension that annoyed me.
Scud. Don't you know that she is the natural daughter of the judge, your uncle, and that old lady thar just adored anything her husband cared for; and this girl, that another woman would a hated, she loves as if she'd been her own child.
George. Aunt, I am prouder and happier to be your nephew and heir to the ruins of Terrebonne, than I would have been to have had half Louisiana without you.
Enter Zoe, from house, L.
Zoe. Am I late? Ah! Mr. Scudder, good morning.
Scud. Thank'ye. I'm from fair to middlin', like a bamboo cane, much the same all the year round.
Zoe. No; like a sugar cane; so dry outside, one would never think there was so much sweetness within.
Scud. Look here; I can't stand that gal! if I stop here, I shall hug her right off. [Sees Pete, who has set his pail down L. C. up stage, and goes to sleep on it.] If that old nigger ain't asleep, I'm blamed. Hillo! [Kicks pail from under Pete, and lets him down.]
[Exit, L. U. E.