LINDSAY (Angrily) Whuts de matter, y'all? Cat got yo' tongue?
SISTER TAYLOR More matter than you kin scatter all over Cincinnatti.
LINDSAY Go head on, Lucy Taylor, go head on. You know a very little of yo' sugar sweetens my coffee. Go head on. Everytime you lift yo' arm you smell like a nest of yellow hammers.
SISTER TAYLOR Go head on yo'self. Yo' head look like it done wore out three bodies--talking bout _me_ smelling--you smell lak a nest of grand daddies yo'self.
LINDSAY Aw, rack on down de road, 'oman. Ah don't wantuh change words wid yuh. You'se too ugly.
MRS. TAYLOR You ain't nobody's pretty baby yo'self. You so ugly I betcha yo' wife have to spread uh sheet over yo' head tuh let sleep slip up on yuh.
LINDSAY (Threatening) You better git 'way from me while you able. I done tole you I don't wants break a mouth wid you. It's a whole heap better tuh walk off on yo own legs than it is to be toted off. I'm tired of yo' achin round here. You fool wid me now an' I'll knock you into doll rags, Tony or no Tony.
SISTER TAYLOR (jumping up in his face) Hit me! Hit me! I dare you tuh hit me. If you take dat dare you'll steal a hawg an' eat his hair.
LINDSAY Lemme gwan down to dat church befo' you make me stomp you. (He exits right.)
SISTER TAYLOR You mean you'll _git_ stomped. Ahm going to de trial too. De nex trial gointer be _me_ for kickin some uh you Baptis niggers around.
(A great noise is heard off stage left. The angry and jeering voices of children. Mrs. Taylor looks off left and takes a step or two towards left exit as the noise comes nearer.)
VOICE OF ONE CHILD Tell her! Tell her! Turn her up and smell her. Yo' mama ain't got nothin to do wid me.
SISTER TAYLOR (Hollering off left) You lil Baptis haitians, leave them chillun alone. If you don't, you better!
(Enter about 10 chidren struggling and wrestling in a bunch. Mrs. Taylor looks about on the ground for a stick to strike the children with.)
VOICE OF CHILD IN CROWD Hey! Hey! He's skeered tuh knock it off. Coward!
SISTER TAYLOR If y'all don't git on home!
SASSY LITTLE GIRL (Standing akimbo) I know you better not touch me, do my mama will tend to you.
SISTER TAYLOR (Making as if to strike her) Shet up, you nasty lil heifer, sassing me! You ain't half raised.