Phus (in a loud voice). Mis’, de cap’n say—
Mary. Sh! you’ll wake the baby.
Phus (in a loud whisper). Mis’, de cap’n dun tole me he not feel well, an’ you come to de weel-house. Phus tote de baby.
Mary (rising hastily). Take good care of him. (Exit R.)
Phus. Take good care ob him. (Imitates her voice, and tip-toes round the room.) How golly fine it am to be de cap’n’s mis’, a-sittin’ down har all fix’ up, and den walkin’ on deck wid de par-sol, totin’ de baby. Oh, Lor! (Sings softly.)
Min’ de pick’niny,
Min’ de pick’niny,
Take good care ob him.
Wot’s dem books? I dunno, caze I can’t read ’em all yit. But the cap’n’s mis’, she try larn me. Lemme see. (Takes up a book and reads.) “Meel-iss-see-felt-a-cold-han’-on-her-fore-head-an’-she-scream-ded-scream-ded.” Wot’s dat? Golly! I can’t do dat. (Shuts up the book.) Sh! sh! de baby’s wokem up. He’ll holler ef he see me. I’ll make him tink I’m de cap’n’s mis’. (He takes the parasol and opens it, spreads the handkerchief over his face, and sits down by the cradle. Enter Captain Miller, R., leaning on Mary’s shoulder.)
Mary. Tell me, dear, just how you feel. (Sees Phus.) Oh, Phus! you’ll scare the baby.