Susan.—Well, Abner, I think you had better see that the henhouse door is locked. I’d feel safer. My brother in the South heard someone in his henhouse one night, and he went out with a gun to investigate. He hollered out, “Hey, who’s there?” And the third time he spoke right up an’ said he’d shoot; then a voice came right plumb out of that henhouse an’ said, “Don’t shoot, massa, it’s only one of us chickens.”
Rastus.—Yas’m! I done heerd ’bout dat. He’s de genelman what was skeert to leave de henhouse do’ open, kase de chickens might all go home. (Rolls his eyes and laughs).
Tom (to Rastus).—Come on, Rastus, help me up with this tree, but remember this is a free-gratis job, no tips for this.
Rastus.—Why sholy, Sir, I wouldn’t want no remuneration for settin’ up a Christmas tree.
Tom.—We’ll nail it to a board. (Takes hammer and strikes his finger. Yells.)
(All speaking at once.)
Edith.—Did you hurt yourself?
Abner.—What you do it for?
Susan.—Ain’t you hurt yourself?
Rastus.—How did that—ar happen?