WALTER.
He was too mean to git fat. He was so skinny you could do a week’s washing on his ribs for a washboard and hang ’em up on his hip-bones to dry.
LIGE.
I ’member one day, Brazzle, you sent yo’ boy to Winter Park after some groceries wid a basket. So here he went down de road ridin’ dis mule wid dis basket on his arm…. Whut you reckon dat ole contrary mule done when he got to dat crooked place in de road going round Park Lake? He turnt right round and went through de handle of dat basket … wid de boy still up on his back. (General laughter)
BRAZZLE.
Yeah, he up and died one Sat’day just for spite … but he was too contrary to lay down on his side like a mule orter and die decent. Naw, he made out to lay down on his narrer contracted back and die wid his feets sticking straight up in de air just so. (He gets down on his back and illustrates.) We drug him out to de swamp wid ’im dat way, didn’t we, Hambo?
JOE CLARK.
I God, Brazzle, we all seen it. Didn’t we all go to de draggin’ out? More folks went to yo’ mule’s draggin’ out than went to last school closing…. Bet there ain’t been a thing right in mule-hell for four years.
HAMBO.
Been dat long since he been dead?
CLARK.
I God, yes. He died de week after I started to cutting’ dat new ground.
(The bone is passing from hand to hand. At last a boy about twelve takes it. He has just walked up and is proudly handling the bone when a woman’s voice is heard off stage right.)
VOICE.
Senator! Senator!! Oh, you Senator?
BOY.
(Turning displeased mutters) Aw, shux. (Loudly) Ma’m?
VOICE.
If you don’t come here you better!