BEELER.
No, it ain"t. I won"t have any more of that talk around me, do you hear? I put my foot down a year ago.
MARTHA.
_Points to his foot derisively._
It"s big enough and ugly enough, Heaven knows, but you can put it down as hard as you like, it won"t keep a man"s sperrit in his grave--not when he"s a mind to come out!
BEELER.
_Astonished._
Martha Beeler!
MARTHA.
That"s my name.
_She flounces out into the kitchen, covering her retreat with her last speech._
BEELER.
_Looking after her._
My kingdom! Martha! I thought she had some horse sense left.
RHODA.
_Slowly, as the finishes with the lamp._
Uncle, it"s hard to live side by side with Aunt Mary and not--
BEELER.
_In angry challenge._
And not what?
RHODA.
And not believe there"s something more in these matters than "horse sense" will account for.
BEELER.
_Hotly, as if a sort point has been touched upon._
There"s nothing more than science will account for.
_He points to a shelf of books._
You can read it up any day you like. Read that book yonder, chapter called Hallucinations. Pathological, that"s what it is, pathological.
RHODA.
What does that mean?
_Beeler taps his forehead significantly._
Uncle, you know that"s not true!
BEELER.
_Growls to himself._
Pathological, up and down.
_Rhoda replaces the lamp on the mantel._
_Martha opens the kitchen door and calls in._
MARTHA.
Here"s Uncle Abe!
BEELER.
Uncle Abe? Thought he was a goner.
_Uncle Abe enters. He is an old negro, with gray hair and thin, gray beard. He is somewhat bowed, and carries a stick, but he is not decrepit. His clothes are spattered with mud. Martha enters with him; she is stirring something in a bowl, and during the following continues to do so, though more and more interruptedly and absent-mindedly._
BEELER.
h.e.l.lo, Uncle Abe.
UNCLE ABE.
Good-mawnin", Mista Beeler.
BEELER.
Where"ve you been all winter? Thought you"d gone up Salt River.
UNCLE ABE.
_Shakes his head rea.s.suringly._
Ain" nevah goin" up no Salt River, yo" Uncle Abe ain"t.