The Baby Girl. Oh, look! Miss Charlotte. I've dot a torn pone wid 'lasses on it.
Char. (affecting great interest). My, what a fine lunch you have, baby!
The Child (holding half up to her). You dot to have some, too.
Char. (stroking her hair). No, precious; you must eat your nice lunch. You know Aunt Marthy is going to bring Miss Charlotte hers.
The Baby. Teacher ain't dot no good lunch. Please, eat some of mine.
[Charlotte breaks off a tiny piece of bread and begins to nibble it, affecting great enjoyment. The child begins to eat her own lunch happily.
A Girl by Box (speaking to another nearer). Johnnie and Sue ain't got no dinner.
A Boy. They's too poor, I speck.
The Girl. Don't you say that. Their papa's killed.
[She goes to the boy and girl, offering half her dinner; the others follow, offering theirs. The two children begin to smile, and reach eagerly for the lunch and eat as though very hungry.