He git a job barbarin’ on de boat dat run from New York ter Chawlston. AUNT REBECCA Go ’long--! LUCY BELLE (_bitterly_) Been gone free mon’s. I ain’ seen nor yere from him since he lef’. (_She picks up the basket of clothes and goes to the door, Back._) Only be a minute, Aun’ Becky. (_Aunt Rebecca grunts and nods. Lucy Belle goes out, Back. Aunt Rebecca sits in brooding thought for a moment or two, then begins to chant to herself._) AUNT REBECCA Um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a! Trouble in mah soul! Um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a! Trouble in mah soul! Um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a! Trouble in mah soul! (_High treble._) Um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a! Trouble in mah soul! Um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a--um--a! (_Footsteps and someone whistling are heard off stage, Back. Aunt Rebecca stops and listens. The door opens and Slim Dorsey enters, Back._) SLIM ’Lo, Aun’ Becky. W’at yo’ all doin’ yere? AUNT REBECCA Min’en de baby fo’ Lucy Belle. SLIM Whar she? AUNT REBECCA Takin’ washin’ ’roun’ ter Miss Erminie’s. (_Slim takes a bag of tobacco and a pack of cigarette papers from his pocket and proceeds to roll a cigarette._) SLIM Dat gal ain’ no good. She make twict as much ef she was ter wuk out. AUNT REBECCA (_sharply_) W’at kin’-a bruder is yo’? Dat ain’ no way ter talk. W’at she do wid de chillen--an’--an’ dis yere baby? SLIM (_licking the cigarette_) Make a present ob ’em ter somebody. AUNT REBECCA Shame on yo’--shame on yo’--talkin’ like dat! She do de bes’ she kin! An’ yo’ jes’ lay ’roun’ an’ let her keep yo’. SLIM Dat’s a lie! I wuks a damn sight harder den she do. AUNT REBECCA Whar yo’ wuk? SLIM On de wharf--shuckin’ oysters. AUNT REBECCA Dat steady? SLIM Steady in season. I fishes w’en I ain’ wukkin’ dere. Dat’s why we move ovah yere from Carter Street--ter be handy ter de rivah. Don’ yo’ all go lyin’ ’bout me livin’ off Lucy Belle,--’less yo’ lookin’ fo’ trouble. (_Aunt Rebecca glowers at him and remains silent for a brief interval. Slim lights his cigarette and sits astride a chair, with the back to the front._) AUNT REBECCA (_at length_) She got too many chillen. SLIM Ain’ nobody knows dat bettah den I do. No niggah an’ gwine ter take up wid her now. Mink Hall was crazy fo’ ter marry her one time. Huh--he wouldn’ look sideways at her now ef he was ter pass her in de street. (_The wind blows and whistles through the cracks. Aunt Rebecca straightens up stiffly and rolls her eyes._) AUNT REBECCA (_in low, frightened tones_) Gawd-a-massy! Yo’ ain’ gwine ter git me--yo’ ole hussy! SLIM W’at’s de mattah? AUNT REBECCA Dat’s Lil Mundy tryin’ ter git back at me. SLIM (_with a derisive laugh_) W’at fo’? AUNT REBECCA Fo’ kickin’ dat ole dog ob hers off mah do’step. (_Lucy Belle enters, Back, carrying the empty basket._) AUNT REBECCA (_exclaiming_) Lan’ sake, chile! It ain’ takin’ yo’ long. LUCY BELLE