Man (with head out of window). Heah they come, nip and tuck—whoo-ee! They'se gonna make it! (He waves excitedly.) Come on Jawn! (Everybody crowds the windows, encouraging them by gesture and calls. As the whistle blows twice, and the train begins to move, they enter panting and laughing at left. The only seat left is the one directly in front of Effie.)
Dinky (standing). Don't y'all skeer us no mo' lake dat! There couldn't be no cake walk thout y'all. Dem shad-mouf St. Augustine coons would win dat cake and we would have tuh kill 'em all bodaciously.
John. It was Emmaline nearly made us get left. She says I wuz smiling at Effie on the street car and she had to get off and wait for another one.
Emma (removing the hatpins from her hat, turns furiously upon him). You wuz grinning at her and she wuz grinning back jes lake a ole chessy cat!
John. (positively). I wuzn't.
Emma (about to place her hat in rack). You wuz. I seen you looking jes lake a possum.
John. I wuzn't. I never gits a chance tuh smile at nobody—you won't let me.
Emma. Jes the same every time you sees a yaller face, you takes a chance. (They sit down in peeved silence for a minute.)
Dinky. Ada, les we all sample de basket. I bet you got huckleberry pie.
Ada. No I aint, I got peach an' tater pies, but we aint gonna tetch a thing tell we gits tuh de hall.
Dinky (mock alarm). Naw, don't do dat! It's all right tuh save the fried chicken, but pies is always et on trains.
Ada. Aw shet up! (He struggles with her for a kiss. She slaps him but finally yields.)
John (looking behind him). Hellow, Effie, where's Sam?
Effie. Deed, I don't know.
John. Y'all on a bust?
Emma. None ah yo' bizness, you got enough tuh mind yo' own self. Turn 'round!
(She puts up a pouting mouth and he snatches a kiss. She laughs just as he kisses her again and there is a resounding smack which causes the crowd to laugh. And cries of "Oh you kid!" "Salty dog!")
(Enter conductor left calling tickets cheerfully and laughing at the general merriment.)
Conductor. I hope somebody from Jacksonville wins this cake.
John. You live in the "Big Jack?"
Conductor. Sure do. And I wanta taste a piece of that cake on the way back tonight.
John. Jes rest easy—them Augustiners aint gonna smell it. (Turns to Emma.) Is they, baby?
Emma. Not if Ah kin help it.
Somebody with a guitar sings: "Ho babe, mah honey taint no lie."
(The conductor takes up tickets, passes on and exits right.)
Wesley. Look heah, you cake walkers—y'all oughter git up and limber up yo' joints. I heard them folks over to St. Augustine been oiling up wid goose-grease, and over to Ocala they been rubbing down in snake oil.
A Woman's Voice. You better shut up, Wesley, you just joined de church last month. Somebody's going to tell the pastor on you.
Wesley. Tell it, tell it, take it up and smell it. Come on out you John and Emma and Effie, and limber up.
John. Naw, we don't wanta do our walking steps—nobody won't wanta see them when we step out at the hall. But we kin do something else just to warm ourselves up.
(Wesley begins to play "Goo Goo Eyes" on his accordian, the other instruments come in one by one and John and Emma step into the aisle and "parade" up and down the aisle—Emma holding up her skirt, showing the lace on her petticoats. They two-step back to their seat amid much applause.)
Wesley. Come on out, Effie! Sam aint heah so you got to hold up his side too. Step on out. (There is a murmur of applause as she steps into the aisle. Wesley strikes up "I'm gointer live anyhow till I die" It is played quite spiritedly as Effie swings into the pas-me-la—)
Wesley (in ecstasy). Hot stuff I reckon! Hot stuff I reckon! (The musicians are stamping. Great enthusiasm. Some clap time with hands and feet. She hurls herself into a modified Hoochy Koochy, and finishes up with an ecstatic yell.)
There is a babble of talk and laughter and exultation.
John (applauding loudly). If dat Effie can't step nobody can.
Emma. Course you'd say so cause it's her. Everything she do is pretty to you.
John (caressing her). Now don't say that, Honey. Dancing is dancing no matter who is doing it. But nobody can hold a candle to you in nothing.
(Some men are heard tuning up—getting pitch to sing. Four of them crowd together in one seat and begin the chorus of "Daisies Won't Tell" John and Emma grow quite affectionate.)
John (kisses her). Emma, what makes you always picking a fuss with me over some yaller girl.
