SIMMS. This sho is a snake town. I certainly can’t raise no chickens for ’em. They kill my little biddies jus’ as fast as they hatch out. And yes … if I hadn’t cut them weeds out of the street in front of my parsonage, me or some of my folks woulda been snake-bit right at our front door. (To whole crowd) Whyn’t you all cut down these weeds and clean up these streets? HAMBO. Well, the Mayor ain’t said nothin’ ’bout it. SIMMS. When the folks misbehaves in this town I think they oughta lock ’em up in a jail and make ’em work their fine out on the streets, then these weeds would be cut down. VOICE. How we gonna do that when we ain’t got no jail? SIMMS. Well, you sho needs a jail … you-all needs a whole lot of improvements round this town. I ain’t never pastored no town so way-back as this one here. CLARK. (Who has lately emerged from the store, fanning himself, overhears this last remark and bristles up) What’s that you say ’bout this town? SIMMS. I say we needs some improvements here in this town … that’s what. CLARK. (In a powerful voice) And what improvements you figgers we needs? SIMMS. A whole heap. Now, for one thing we really does need a jail, Mayor. We oughta stop runnin’ these people out of town that misbehaves, and lock ’em up. Others towns has jails, everytown I ever pastored had a jail. Don’t see how come we can’t have one. CLARK. (Towering angrily above the preacher) Now, wait a minute, Simms. Don’t you reckon the man who knows how to start a town knows how to run it? I paid two hundred dollars out of this right hand for this land and walked out here and started this town befo’ you was born. I ain’t like some of you new niggers, come here when grapes’ ripe. I was here to cut new ground, and I been Mayor ever since. SIMMS. Well, there ain’t no sense in no one man stayin’ Mayor all the time. CLARK. Well, it’s my town and I can be mayor jus’ as long as I want to. It was me that put this town on the map. SIMMS. What map you put it on, Joe Clark? I ain’t seen it on no map. CLARK. (Indignant) I God! Listen here, Elder Simms. If you don’t like the way I run this town, just’ take your flat feets right on out and git yonder crost the woods. You ain’t been here long enough to say nothin’ nohow. HAMBO. (From a nail keg) Yeah, you Methodist niggers always telling people how to run things. TAYLOR. (Practically unheard by the others) We do so know how to run things, don’t we? Ain’t Brother Mayor a Methodist, and ain’t the school-teacher a …? (His remarks are drowned out by the others.)