(Sprinkling of laughter as Joe Clarke is escorted into next room by Dinky.)
(The musicians are arriving one by one during this time. A guitar, accordian, mouth organ, banjo, etc. Soon there is a rapping for order heard inside and the voice of Joe Clarke.)
Joe Clarke. Git yo' partners one an' all for de gran' march! Git yo' partners, gent-mens!
A Man (drawing basket from under bench). Let's we all eat first.
(John and Emma go buy ice-cream. They coquettishly eat from each other's spoons. Old Man Lizzimore crosses to Effie and removes his hat and bows with a great flourish.)
Lizzimore. Sam ain't here t'night, is he, Effie.
Effie (embarrassed). Naw suh, he aint.
Lizz. Well, you like chicken? (Extends arm to her.) Take a wing!
(He struts her up to the table amid the laughter of the house. He wears no collar.)
John (squeezes Emma's hand). You certainly is a ever loving mamma—when you aint mad.
Emma (smiles sheepishly). You oughtn't to make me mad then.
John. Ah don't make you! You makes yo'self mad, den blame it on me. Ah keep on tellin' you Ah don't love nobody but you. Ah knows heaps uh half-white girls Ah could git ef Ah wanted to. But (he squeezes her hard again) Ah jus' wants you! You know what they say! De darker de berry, de sweeter de taste!
Emma (pretending to pout). Oh, you tries to run over me an' keep it under de cover, but Ah won't let yuh. (Both laugh.) Les' we eat our basket!
John. Alright. (He pulls the basket out and she removes the table cloth. They set the basket on their knees and begin to eat fried chicken.)
Male Voice. Les' everybody eat—motion's done carried. (Everybody begins to open baskets. All have fried chicken. Very good humor prevails. Delicacies are swapped from one basket to the other. John and Emma offer the man next them some supper. He takes a chicken leg. Effie crosses to John and Emma with two pieces of pie on a plate.
Effie. Y'll have a piece uh mah blueberry pie—it's mighty nice! (She proffers it with a timid smile to Emma who "freezes" up instantly.)
Emma. Naw! We don't want no pie. We got cocoanut layer-cake.
John. Ah—Ah think ah'd choose a piece uh pie, Effie. (He takes it.) Will you set down an' have a snack wid us? (He slides over to make room.)
Effie (mervously). Ah, naw, Ah got to run on back to mah basket, but Ah thought maybe y'll mout' want tuh taste mah pie. (She turns to go.)
John. Thank you, Effie. It's mighty good, too. (He eats it. Effie crosses to her seat. Emma glares at her for a minute, then turns disgustedly away from the basket. John catches her shoulder and faces her around.)
John (pleadingly). Honey, be nice. Don't act lak dat!
Emma (jerking free). Naw, you done ruint mah appetite now, carryin' on wid dat punkin-colored ole gal.
John. Whut kin Ah do? If you had a acted polite Ah wouldn't a had nothin' to say.
Emma. Naw, youse jus' hog-wile ovah her cause she's half-white! No matter whut Ah say, you keep carryin' on wid her. Act polite? Naw Ah aint gonna be deceitful an' bust mah gizzard fuh nobody! Let her keep her dirty ole pie ovah there where she is!
John (looking around to see if they are overheard). Sh-sh! Honey, you mustn't talk so loud.
Emma (louder). Ah-Ah aint gonna bite mah tongue! If she don't like it she can lump it. Mah back is broad—(John tries to cover her mouth with his hand). She calls herself a big cigar, but I kin smoke her!
(The people are laughing and talking for the most part and pay no attention. Effie is laughing and talking to those around her and does not hear the tirade. The eating is over and everyone is going behind the curtain. John and Emma put away their basket like the others, and sit glum. Voice of Master-of-ceremonies can be heard from beyond curtain announcing the pas-me-la contest. The contestants, mostly girls, take the floor. There is no music except the clapping of hands and the shouts of "Parse-me-lah" in time with the hand-clapping. At the end Master announces winner. Shadows seen on curtain.)
Master. Mathilda Clarke is winner—if she will step forward she will receive a beautiful wook fascinator. (The girl goes up and receives it with great hand-clapping and good humor.) And now since the roosters is crowin' foah midnight, an' most of us got to git up an' go to work tomorrow, The Great Cake Walk will begin. Ah wants de floor cleared, cause de representatives of de several cities will be announced an' we wants em to take de floor as their names is called. Den we wants 'em to do a gran' promenade roun' de hall. An' they will then commence to walk fuh de biggest cake ever baked in dis state. Ten dozen eggs—ten pounds of flour—ten pounds of butter, and so on and so forth.
