JIM.
Play and dance ... just like I been doin’.
DAISY.
You can’t dance and Dave ain’t gointer be ther.
JIM.
(Looks appealingly at DAVE, then away quickly) Well, I can’t help dat, can I?
DAISY.
(Brightly) I tell you whut, Jim! Less us don’t go nowhere. They sentenced you to leave Eatonville and youse more than a mile from de city limits already. Youse in Maitland now. Supposin’ you come live on de white folks’ place wid me after we git married. Eatonville ain’t got nothin’ to do wid you livin’ in Maitland.
JIM.
Dat’a a good idea, Daisy.
DAISY.
(Jumping into his arms) And listen, honey, you don’t have to be beholden to Dave nor nobody else. You can throw dat ole box away if you want to. I know ehre you can get a swell job.
JIM.
(Sheepishly) Doin’ whut? (Looks lovingly at his guitar)
DAISY.
(Almost dancing) Yard man. All you have to do is wash windows, and sweep de sidewalk, and scrub off de steps and porch and hoe up de weeds and rake up de leaves and dig a few holes now and then with a spade ... to plant some trees and things like that. It’s a good steady job.
JIM.
(After a long deliberation) You see, Daisy, de Mayor and corporation told me to go on off and I oughter go.
DAISY.
Well, I’m not going tippin’ down no railroad track like a Maltese cat. I wasn’t brought up knockin’ round from here to yonder.