LUM BOGER. You impudent little huzzy, you! You must smell yourself … youse so fresh. MATILDA. The wind musta changed and you smell your own top lip. LUM BOGER. Don’t make me have to grab you and take you down a buttonhole lower. MATILDA. (Switching her little head) Go ahead on and grab me. You sho can’t kill me, and if you kill me, you sho can’t eat me. (She marches into the store.) SENATOR. (Derisively from behind stump) Ol’ dumb Lum! Hey! Hey! (LITTLE BOY at edge of stage thumbs his nose at the marshall.) (LUM lumbers after the small boy. Both exit.) HAMBO. (To CLARK who has been thinking all this while what move to make) You ain’t got but one move … go ahead on and make it. What’s de matter, Mayor? CLARK. (Moving his checker) Aw, here. HAMBO. (Triumphant) Now! Look at him, boys. I’m gonna laugh in notes. (Laughing to the scale and jumping a checker each time) Do, sol, fa, me, lo … one! (Jumping another checker) La, sol, fa, me, do … two! (Another jump.) Do, sol, re, me, lo … three! (Jumping a third.) Lo, sol, fa, me, re … four! (The crowd begins to roar with laughter. LUM BOGER returns, looking on. Children come drifting back again playing chick-me-chick-me-cranie crow.) VOICE. Oh, ha! Done got the ol’ tush hog. ANOTHER VOICE. Thought you couldn’t be beat, Brother Mayor? CLARK. (Peeved, gets up and goes into the store mumbling) Oh, I coulda beat you if I didn’t have this store on my mind. Saturday afternoon and I got work to do. Lum, ain’t I told you to keep them kids from playin’ right in front of this store? (LUM makes a pass at the nearest half-grown boy. The kids dart around him teasingly.) ANOTHER VOICE. Eh, heh…. Hambo done run him on his store … done run the ol’ coon in his hole. ANOTHER VOICE. That ain’t good politics, Hambo, beatin’ the Mayor. ANOTHER VOICE. Well, Hambo, you don’t got to be so hard at checkers, come on let’s see what you can do with de cards. Lum Boger there got his hands full nursin’ the chilluns. ANOTHER VOICE. (At the table) We ain’t playin’ for money, nohow, Deacon. We just playin’ a little Florida Flip. HAMBO. Ya all can’t play no Florida Flip. When I was a sinner there wasn’t a man in this state could beat me playin’ that game. But I’m a deacon in Macedonia Baptist now and I don’t bother with the cards no more. VOICE AT CARD TABLE. All right, then, come on here Tony (To man with basket on steps.) let me catch your jack. TAYLOR. (Looking toward door) I don’t reckon I got time. I guess my wife gonna get through buying out that store some time or other and want to go home. OLD MAN. (On opposite side of porch from card game) I bet my wife would know better than expect me to sit around and wait for her with a basket. Whyn’t you tell her to tote it on home herself? TAYLOR. (Sighing and shaking his head.) Eh, Lawd!