Marthy. 'Clare hit don't seem natural--it suttenly don't. Dis
hyer place ain't what it was; look at dat fence and at dem bushes!
It's gittin run down, dat's what's the matter; it's gittin run down.
[Enter Cupid from the gate at back, leading into the lane.
He is an old negro of about the same age as Marthy.
His clothes are very old and worn, yet there is a
pathetic suggestion of neatness in his ragged dress.
Cupid. Marthy, is you seen dem chullen?
Marthy. Nor I ain't seen um since lunch. Mars Bev and Miss Fair
don suttenly tek dis place since de war brek out. I hear um say dey
gwine down to de mill.
Cupid. How dey go?
Marthy. I hear Miss Fair say she was gwine ter walk, and den Mars
Bev say hit too far for her; dat she got ter ride de mule: and she up an
tell him ef it 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.
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