omes timidly to the door, wiping her hands on her apron.) Ain't
no man gonna tell me how to run my town. I God, I 'lected myself in
and I'm gonna run it. (Turns and sees wife standing in door.
Commandingly.) I God, Mattie, git on back in there and wait on that
store!

MATTIE: (Timidly) Jody, somebody else wantin' stamps.

CLARK: I God, woman, what good is you? Gwan, git in. Look like between
women and preachers a man can't have no peace. (Exit CLARK.)

SIMMS: (Continuing his argument) Now, when I pastored in Jacksonville
you oughta see what kinda jails they got there....

LOUNGER: White folks needs jails. We colored folks don't need no jail.

ANOTHER VILLAGER: Yes, we do, too. Elder Simms is right....

(The argument becomes a hubbub of voices.)

TAYLOR: (Putting down his basket) Now, I tell you a jail....

MRS. TAYLOR: (Emerging from the store door, arms full of groceries,
looking at her husband) Yeah, and if you don't shut up and git these
rations home I'm gonna be worse on you than a jail and six judges.
Pickup that basket and let's go. (TONY meekly picks up the basket and
he and his wife exit as the sound of an approaching guitar is heard
off stage.)

(Two carelessly dressed, happy-go-lucky fellows enter together. One is
fingering a guitar without playing any particular tune, and the other
has his hat cocked over his eyes in a burlesque, dude-like manner.
There are casual greetings.)

WALTER: Hey, there, bums, how's tricks?

LIGE: What yo' sayin', boys?

HAMBO: Good evenin' sons.

LIGE: How did you-all make out this evenin', boys?

JIM: Oh, them white folks at the party shelled out right well. Kept
Dave busy pickin' it up. How much did we make today, Dave?

DAVE: (Striking his pocket) I don't know, boy, but feels right heavy
here. Kept me pickin' up money just like this.... (As JIM picks a few
dance chords, Dave gives a dance imitation of how he picked up the
coins from the ground as the white folks threw them.) We count it
after while. Woulda divided up with you already if you hadn't left me
when you seen Daisy comin' by. Let's sit down on the porch and rest
now.

LIGE: She sho is lookin' stylish and pretty since she come back with
her white folks from up North. Wearin' the swellest clothes. And that
coal-black hair of hers jus' won't quit.

MATTIE CLARK: (In doorway) I don't see what the mens always hanging
after Daisy Taylor for.

CLARK: (Turning around on the porch) I God, you back here aga