MRS. BLUNT Well, I know one thing—de man or woman, chick or child, grizzly or gray that tells me to my face anything wrong bout my chile—I'm going to take my fist (rolls up right sleeve and gestures with right fist) and knock they teeth down they throat. (She looks ferocious.) Cause y'll know I raised my Daisy right round my feet till I let her go up north last year wid them white folks. I'd ruther her to be in de white folks kitchen than walkin' de streets like some of dese girls round here. If I do say so, I done raised a lady. She can't help it if all dese men get stuck on her.
SISTER TAYLOR You'se telling de truth, Sister Blunt—that's what I always say—Don't confidence dese niggers, do they'll sho put you in de street.
SISTER THOMAS Naw indeed. Never syndicate wid niggers—do—they will distriminate you. They'll be an anybody. You goin to de trial, ain't you?
MRS. BLUNT Just as sho as you snore, and they better leave Daisy's name outer dis too. I done told her and told her to come straight home from her work. Naw, she had to stop by dat store and skin her gums back wid dem trashy niggers. She better not leave them white [Corrected missing space.] folks today to come praipsin over here scornin her name all up wid dis nigger mess—do, I'll kill her. No daughter of mine ain't going to do as she please long as she live under de sound of my voice. (She crosses to right.)
SISTER THOMAS That's right, Sister Blunt—I glory in yo' spunk. Lord, I better go put on my supper. (As Mrs. Blunt exits right, Rev. Singletary enters left with Dave and Deacon Lindsay and Sister Lewis. Very hostile glances from Sisters Thomas and Taylor towards the others.
ELDER SINGLETARY
Good evening, folks.
(Sister Thomas and Sister Taylor just grunt. Sister Thomas moves a step or two towards exit. Flirts her skirts and exits.)
LINDSAY
(Angrily) Whuts de matter, y'all? Cat got yo' tongue?
SISTER TAYLOR
More matter than you kin scatter all over Cincinnatti.
LINDSAY Go head on, Lucy Taylor, go head on. You know a very little of yo' sugar sweetens my coffee. Go head on. Everytime you lift yo' arm you smell like a nest of yellow hammers.