Mr. Cole, the Census Taker. Mrs. Almira Johnson, a “Cullud Lady.”
Alexander Johnson, her Young Son.
Mrs. Johnson’s home. Mrs. Johnson winding yarn which Alexander holdsfor her.
Mrs. J. Now yo’ jes’ stop yo’ wigglin’, Alexandah, caze yo’ got to holedis yahn till yo’ mammy git it all winded up in a big ball fo’ to knit yo’wintah stockin’s wiv. Keep it straight, now. No, don’t straitch is so!Jes’ hole it easy.
Alex. But mah ahms is tiahd, Mammy, an’ mah han’s ache.
Mrs. J. Dat don’ make a bit o’ diffunce. Yo’ hole dat ar yahn good.Does yo’ heah?
Alex. Caint I hole it bimeby, an’ res’ a while now, Mammy?
Mammy. No, yo’ caint! Yo’ jes’ want to git out an’ play baseball wivdem no-count white chilluns. I don’ want yo’ should ’sociate wiv sechtrash. Sit up, does yo’ heah?
Alex. Yaas, but——
Mrs. J. (Getting a switch from the corner.) Alexandah XerxesNapoleon Washin’ton Johnsing, does yo’ see dat switch?
Alex. I’m a-holdin’ it, Mammy. I’m a-holdin’ it good.
Mammy. Yo’ jes keep on a-holdin’ it good, an’ don’ yo’ fuss no moah. (Aloud rap is heard.) Mah goodness, who dat? (She walks to door, still windingyarn, and opens it.)
Mr. C. Good afternoon, Madam.
Mrs. J. Good aftahnoon, sah. Will yo’ walk in?
Mr. C. Thank you, I will. I have here the census report blanks and Iam taking the census.
Mrs. J. We-all hasn’t no moah senses dan we needs, ouah selves, sah,an’ we don’ p’etend dat we has.
Mr. C. I mean I am taking the vital statistics, Madam.
Mrs. J. Vital stickses! Yo’ caint steal no wood here, an’ yo’ caintpuffo’m no suhgicla-opahrations, needah. My vitals is inside o’ me, an’ daredey am a-gwine to merain. Does yo’ heah? We-all don’ need no suhgeons,’tall. No, yo’ needn’t stayah at dat boy. Yo’ caint speriment wiv hisinsides.
Mr. C. But I am not a surgeon, Madam. I am the census man.
Mrs. J. Yo’ suttinly am a s