MARY. Talking to Hank? Some of his lady friends, I suppose. PHUS. O, yes! I forgets. Dey wants ter see you, dey say, and Hank say he bring’d ’em in. (_Enter_ HANK, R., _in a stage sailor suit, with_ MRS. GANDY _and_ LEAFY JANE, _the latter very stylishly dressed_.) MARY. Mother! Leafy Jane! (_Rushes to them._) Well, this _is_ a surprise, I should think. CAPT. G. (_in great surprise_). I vum to vummy, I am beat now! PHUS. Wot I tole yer? Wot I tol yer, mis’? (_Aside._) But de odder one’s bigger! CAPT. G. Waal, I swan to man, Lorany! you’ve got ahead on us this time. (_Goes up to her_) Tarnation! haow glad I am ter see yer! MARY. Why, Leafy Jane, how you’ve grown! J. Q. A. Yes, and she feels bigger’n you do, and puts on a plaguy sight more airs. She wants father (she calls him par) to put an _e_ in Gandy, ’cause she says it’s more genteel.—And say! she don’t lithp (_lisp_) any more; the customers laughed at her so for saying “yeth, thir.” CAPT. G. (_to_ MRS. G.). Where _in_ the world ’d you come from? MRS. G. (_deliberately sitting, and removing bonnet, mitts, etc._). Waal, Nathan, we heerd of an exertion train daown here, at redooced rates; an’ the boarders,—one on ’em’s writin’ a book,—an’ wanted to be quiet,—said they’d take the haouse furnished for tew months, and pay in advance. And so Leafy an’ me come right along. She’s made a lot o’ bunnits this fall on her own accaount, so she’s quite a haress (_heiress_). L. J. Oh, mar! MRS. G. Yer see, par, we hadn’t time to write after we’d made up our mind to start, an’ we cum a leetle sooner’n we should ef it hadn’t ’a’ been for comin’ with—er—with— L. J. (_whispers warningly_). Why, mar! MRS. G.—with the exertionists. (_Aside_). Why in the world don’t he come? I’m tired o’ keepin’ it in. He said he onny wanted to go ter the bank. (_To_ MARY) An’ then I was afraid you or the baby—why! where _is_ the baby? Do les see him! MARY. He’s asleep, mother. Here, come and see him. Isn’t he a darling? (_They go to the hammock._) L. J. Oh, Mary, what made you name the baby Nathan? I wish you had called him Herbert, Ernest, or Montmorenci. It’s so much more genteel. J. Q. A. Montmorenci Miller! Cracky! wouldn’t that be tony? L. J. (_scornfully_). Tony! (_Walks off with_ HANK _to the wheel-house_.) MRS. G. (_To_ MARY) We tole yer young man that looks so much like Fred Douglass not ta tell yer who we was. J. Q. A. Marm won’t say “colored man.” MRS. G. No, I won’t; I’m sick o’ readin’ on’t in the newspapers. They’re allus sayin’ such a man, _colored_, had his leg took off, or died, or suthin’. What difference does it make, I should like to know, whether he’s colored or not! He’s hurt all the same, ain’t he? an’ he’s a man, tew, all the same, ain’t he? PHUS (_aside_). Golly! I shall bust! MARY (_to_ MRS. G.). How long can you stay? a good while, I hope.