The Southern Cross | Page 2

too far fer her ter walk, she ain't gwine, 'cause it suttenly too
far fer old Jack.
Cupid (indignant). Jack's er good mule yet, ef he is de onliest one we
got lef. Somehow I don't feel exactly rite wid jes dem two hosses on de
place sides dat ole mule; cose he's a good mule yet, onderstan; but den I
can't get used to jes dem three. I often set and study 'bout dem hosses

and wonder whar de is, and ef de soldiers treat um good and ef dey gits
dey feed regular, and ef--
Marthy. Ef dey gits de feed regular hit more dan what we does. Since
de soldiers bin comin' what wid de sewin' and de cookin' and gibin' way,
I wonder dat we gits on er tall. Not dat I grudge hit ter um--law, no.
Wid us got Mars George and dey cousin Mars Carter, and dars Mars
Gorden same as one ob de fambily, to say nothin' ob Old Marster in de
army.
Cupid. And dars Mars Bev, most pester his mar to def ter let him go;
but cose dat chile he too young; he ant more'n fou'teen. But den I'm
frade he gwine: fer ef dat chile set his head on er thing, he good es got
it.
Marthy. Go on wid you! Dat chile ant no mo' gwine in de army dan
what I is. He know hit all but kill Ole Mistis when she let Mars George
and Old Marster go; and den--(her voice grows soft, she looks over
toward the gate (Right)--dar's Mars Phil's grave over dar. She ant neber
bin quite de same since dat ambulance wagen turn in at de gate.
Cupid. Hits bin more'n two years ago; but sometimes hit 'pears like hit
was only yestidy. (Marthy starts toward the gate). Whar you gwine wid
dem flowers?
Marthy. Deys fer Miss Charlotte; she love ter hab um on de table.
'Pears like hit mek hit sorter brighter fer um.
[Cupid goes to gate at back and stands looking anxiously off down the
road (Right).
Cupid. I'm gettin' mighty oneasy 'bout dem chullen. Dey's terbil
careless 'bout demselves.
Marthy (stops on the steps and listens). 'Pears like I hears a hoss.
Cupid. Go on, nigger! Didn't I tell you dey walked to de mill?

[A horse's hoofs are heard.
Marthy (laughs). I hears hit all de same.
Cupid (drops hat in astonishment). Hi! ef dey ant not one er my kerrige
hosses! Hi, dar! Mars Bev! Mars Bev!
[Enter at the back by the road Fair and Bev. She is riding on a big
brown horse with a bag of meal before her. She is a beautiful young girl
of about eighteen, simply dressed in a pink cotton gown; her hair hangs
in loose curls about her face: her hat is carried loosely in one hand;
with the other she is guiding the old horse. Bev walks at her side, with
one hand on the bridle. He is a very handsome boy of about fourteen,
with a gay, happy manner. He is barefoot, dressed in a soft white cotton
shirt and blue homespun trousers. He is without hat or coat, and seems
in the best of spirits. They stop at the gate, laughing.
Fair (from her place on the horse). Take me down, Bev. Here, Cupid,
you take the meal.
[Cupid comes forward too surprised to speak, lifts down the bag, then
Bev takes her hands and lifts her to the ground.
Cupid. Whar you git dis hoss?
Bev (laughs and winks at Fair). Why, out of the second stall near the
door. Where'd you think?
[Marthy and Fair laugh.
Cupid. Dis hoss ant never pack no meal fo' in his life; he's er kerrige
hoss.
Fair. Well, Cupid, we had to get the meal, and Jack is so old and stiff I
thought Tony here would enjoy the trip, and he did, all except the ferry.
I don't believe he ever crossed a stream before, not with me on his back
and a bag of meal. Was'nt he funny, Bev? Dear old Tony! (She throws
her arms around his neck). I wish I had some sugar for you.

Marthy. Go'long, child! You talkin' 'bout givin' sugar to dat old hoss,
when we all has to put 'lasses in de coffee and proud ter git hit.
Cupid. You tell Mistis and Marster dey's come.
[He leads horse off (Left) carrying the meal.
Marthy. Yo' pa bin askin' 'bout you; he say he gwine way ter morrow.
Fair (anxious). To-morrow!
Bev. Where is he?
Marthy. He an' you ma done gone for walk round de quarters.
[Exit Marthy into the house.
Bev. Fair, did you know father was going back to his regiment
to-morrow?
Fair. I was afraid of it.