Auntie Temp (_before the curtain rises_): Gawge Washington Augustus. O, Gawge Washington Augustus, Gawge Washington Augustus, I say. (_Curtain rises._ Auntie Temp _is seen leaving stage at right._) George (_enters at left_): I was jes' suah I yerd mammy callin' me in heah. Wondah whar she went? Mighty ha'd times dese is foh de niggahs, dat's suah. What wid ole marsa goin' off wid de Linkum sojas an' young marsa stampin' 'round an' sayin' he foh suah cehtain am agoin' wid de Fed'rates I mos' done wish I hain't nevah been bo'n. I is foh suah. (_Singing behind scenes, a strain of any darkey melody that may be convenient, though the following, is especially appropriate._ George _pauses to listen._) George (_continues after the singing dies out, looking toward right_): Dere comes dat worfless Clementina Diana, ef she is my sistah. 'Peahs lak any niggah dat can sing now-a-days ain't got no heart, jes' all gizzahd lak a chicken. (Clementina _enters at right, still singing._) Shet up dere, Clementina Diana, how kin you go a-singin' 'round right in de midst o' dis yere wah when de folkses is a-shootin' each udder down, an' a--an' a---- Clementina: O, pshaw! Gawge Washington Augustus, I didn't make de wah, 'sides I hain't seen none o' it, so I might's well be gay and happy while I kin. Mammy's been a-squawkin' foh ye dis yere long while. George: Where's she gone ter? Clementina: O! _I_ dunno. (_This in a slipshod way, shrugging her shoulders. Continues singing and exits at left._) NEGRO SONG This is a funny old song that the darkeys used to delight to sing in the days when they believed "Father Abraham" was coming to free them. [Music] 1. Say, darkeys, hab you seen de massa, Wid de muffstas on his face, Go 'long de road some time dis mornin', Like he gwine to leav de place? He seen a smoke 'way up de ribber, Whar de Linkum gun-boats lay; He took his hat, an' lef berry sudden, An' I spec he's run away! 2. He six foot one way, two foot tudder, An' he weigh tree hundred pound; His coat so big he couldn't pay de tailor, An' it won't go half way 'round. He drill so much dey call him Cap'an, An' he get so drefful tann'd, I spec he try an' fool dem Yankees For to tink he's contraband. 3. De oberseer he make us trouble, An' he dribe us 'round a spell; We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar, Wid de key trown in de well. De whip is lost, de han'cuff broken, But de massa'll hab his pay; He's ole enough, big enough, ought to known bet-ter Dan to went an' run away. Chorus: De massa run, ha! ha! De darkeys stay, ho! ho! It mus' be now de kingdom coming, An' de year ob Jubilo!