AUNT REBECCA
Sho’ has! I—I was free mon’s in Cumberlan’ wid Sadie—she dat slim yallow one, yo’ know—got a mole on dis cheek. (Indicates.) Some say dat de reason she so lucky. I ain’ sayin’. Up dere mos’ six mon’s wid Em’ly—she dat fat brown gal. (Lucy Belle nods.) An’ den I reckon ’bout fo’ mon’s in Frederick wid Henry. (Throws back her head proudly.) Henry great big fine lookin’ niggah. Ain’ so lucky, dough. Bawn in de da’k ob de moon.
LUCY BELLE
I ’member him. I ’member seein’ him ’roun’ yere w’en his fader died—ole Uncle Henry,—
AUNT REBECCA (scornfully)
Huh! Dat niggah was’n’ his fader. No, indeedy! Dat lil’ scrootchin’ monkey was’n’ calc’lated ter be de fader ob no boy like Henry.
(Lucy Belle gives an exclamation of surprise. Aunt Rebecca sits in perplexed preoccupation for several moments. At length she speaks very slowly—dragging out the words, one after another.)
AUNT REBECCA
’Deed chile, I kain’t seem ter ’member who Henry’s fader was. Dat gin got mah haid so tangle up.