Ton. Hallo! here’s Zeb. What’s the matter now? (Enter Zeb, R., shaking his head and fighting imaginary foes outside.) Where have you been? and what is the matter?
Zeb. Yes, well, I guess—Who-o-o-’s a nigger? Who—who’s a nigger? Dar ain’t no niggers now: didn’t de prancepation krocklemation make ’em white folks, hey?
Ton. Here, what’s the matter?
Zeb. Yes, well, I guess—a parcel of ignumramuses a-yellin’ and a-shoutin’ as ef dey nebber seed a tanned man afore. What does de Declamation of Indempendence say,—hey?
Ton. No matter what it says. You just take off your jacket and go to work, or you’ll find out what a tanned man is. (Zeb takes off his jacket, R.)
Mike. Faith, Zeb, it’s plaguing uv yez the b’ys have been.
Zeb. Yes, well I guess—Who’s a nigger? what does the Constitution say,—hey?
Ton. Look here, Zeb! if you open your mouth again, it won’t be healthy for your constitution.
Zeb. Yes, well, I guess!—