SCENE I.—New Orleans.Eva. Mamma! Marie. That 'll do! [Languidly kissing her.] Take care, child—don't you make my headache! St. Clare. Marie! this is our cousin Ophelia. Mar. I am happy to see you, cousin. Eva. O, Mammy! dear Mammy! Miss Oph. Well, you Southern children can do something that I could n't. St. C. What, now, pray? Oph. Well, I want to be kind to everybody, and I would n't have anything hurt; but as to kissing — St. C. Niggers, that you 're not up to; eh? Oph. Yes, that 's it. How can she? St. C. [Laughing.] O, that 's the way with you, is it? [Goes among the servants.] Here, you all, Mammy, Sukey, Jinny, Polly—glad to see mas'r? Look out for the babies! [Stumbling over one.] If I step on anybody let 'em mention it. [Sees TOM, and beckons.] Here, Tom. See here, Marie, I 've brought you a coachman, at last, to order. I tell you he 's a regular hearse for blackness and sobriety, and will drive you like a funeral, if you want. Open your eyes, now, and look at him. Now, don't say I never think about you when I 'm gone. Mar. I know he 'll get drunk. St. C. No, he 's warranted a pious and sober article. Mar. Well, I hope he may turn out well; it 's more than I expect, though. St. C. 'Dolph, show Tom down stairs; and mind yourself; remember what I told you. Mar. He 's a perfect behemoth! St. C. Come, now, Marie, be gracious, and say something pretty to a fellow. Mar. You 've been gone a fortnight beyond the time. St. C. Well, you know I wrote you the reason. Mar. Such a short, cold letter! St. C. Dear me! the mail was just going, and it had to be that or nothing. Mar. That 's just the way always; always something to make your journeys long, and letters short. St. C. See here, now; here 's a present I got for you in New York. Mar. A daguerreotype! What made you sit in such an awkward position? St. C. Well, the position may be a matter of opinion; but what do you think of the likeness? Mar. If you don't think anything of my opinion in one case, I suppose you would n't in another. St. C. Hang the woman! [Aside.] Come, now, Marie, what do you think of the likeness? Don't be nonsensical! Mar. It 's very inconsiderate of you, St. Clare, to insist on my talking and looking at things. You know I 've been lying all day with the sick-headache; and there 's been such a tumult made, ever since you came, I 'm half dead. Oph. You 're subject to the sick-headache, ma'am? Mar. Yes, I 'm a perfect martyr to it. Oph. Juniper-berry tea is good for sick-headache; at least, Augustine, Deacon Abraham Perry's wife used to say so; and she was a great nurse. St. C. I 'll have the first juniper-berries that get ripe in our garden by the lake brought in for that especial purpose. And now [rings the bell. Enter MAMMY], show this lady to her room. [To MARIE, offering her his arm.] Come, now—come—I 've got something for you in here—come. [Exeunt ST. CLARE and MARIE.] |