The Chorus of Girls.
Wake the flute and the drum!
The Prophet, the Prophet is come!
[They continue the dance, to soft music.
Peer.
I have read it in print—and the saying is true—
That no one’s a prophet in his native land.—
This position is very much more to my mind
Than, my life over there ’mong the Charleston merchants.
There was something hollow in the whole affair,