1 - 2

Bina, younger daughter of the house-
hold, is playing something doleful
on the organ. She is awkward and
likeable, she is the ugly duckling.
Her speech is loosely colloquial and
ungrammatical, as is her father's.
The other members of the family speak
a more orthodox English, with pract-
ically no flavoring of the backwoods.

Mrs. Sawters comes in from the hall.
She is in appearance a gentle enough
woman - but she is sardonic and
knowing. Her talk is apt to be
barbed with puzzling inner meanings,
with unpredictable and subtle iron-
ies. Her face is flat and strong.
She has long ears, pierced and ringed,
a sharp and dominant nose.

Mrs. Sawters
Mercy, what a racket, Bina. Thought you were in the kitchen.

Bina
Everything's done, Maw. Jist about. The pig's in the oven
and pretty as a picture.

Mrs. Sawters
I can imagine.

Bina
And I already finished the pies -- first thing is mornin'.
Two kinds.

Mrs. Sawters
Two?

Bina
Apple and cherry. Take your pick. Set down, for heaven's
sake, Maw. You been at it since daylight.

Mrs. Sawters
(Sitting)

There's a weariness in my bones.
(With a deep pleasant sigh)

Ah me. Sunday's a lonesome day. Always hated it.
(Then noticing Bina's noisy efforts)

Gloomy piece you're playing.

1 - 3

Bina

(Cheerfully)

I feel so gloomy!

Mrs. Sawters

Lands, when you've lived with gloom as long as I have --.

Bina

You? Pshaw.

Mrs. Sawters

Yes, me. You get used to it.

(With a cackle)

Or you'd better.

Bina

You just have to keep busy or you --

(But she shuts this off, turning her mind away)

What does Vox Humana mean?

Mrs. Sawters

The human voice. It's Latin.

Bina

Imagine knowin' that!

Mrs. Sawters

Oh, I went to school, child.

Bina

Ain't it funny I never could learn?

Mrs. Sawters

Every one has his own talents, I expect. Yours is cooking.

Poor child, you never get the opportunity your sister and brother did for making your brain work. That is, by schooling, I mean.

Bina

(Still cheerful)

It wouldn't a-worked, nohow. Julie's got the brains around here. Jubie -- and you.

Mrs. Sawters

Oh, don't count on me. I'm pretty rusty, I'm afraid. Way off here in the wilds. Brains rust, you know that?

Bina

You mean like a plough-share?

1 - 4

Mrs. Sawters

Like anything else you don't use. Use 'em and use 'em.
Brains, I'm talking about. Till they sparkle. Till they
shine. Yes, siree.

Bina

Uh-huh.

(Thoughtfully)

I'd ruther be a rusty old plough-share for me.

Mrs. Sawters

I think you would.

Bina

Settin' out in the rain. Or the sun. A plough-share don't
worry - but takes the weather like it comes.

(This seems to remind her)

Julie's so nervous! Always sump'n. She tires me out.

Mrs. Sawters

You oughtn't to let her worry you.

Bina

Orten't to -- but do.

Mrs. Sawters

People walled up in a house together are bound to get one
each other's nerves.

Bina

They don't get on yours.

Mrs. Sawters

Laws, child - I haven't got a nerve in me. Except my teeth.

(Julie comes down the stairs, carrying a
pitcher. Striking and dark, she has in-
herited something from her mother. There
is power here, a nervous but self-assured
power and arrogance. But some thing is
gnawing at this girl, something darkly
troubling and dangerous. She too, however,
like her mother, is full of a deep,
controlled cynicism; she usually means
much more than she says.

(In one continuous motion she has crossed
the room while they watch, and gone out
the door onto the boat landing. The gentle
lapping of water can be heard while the
door is open.)

1 - 5

Mrs. Sawters

(Calling after her)

Чемихшам Julie!

(Julie appears)

You want something?

Julie

A pitcherful of lake water.

Mrs. Sawters

(Sardonically)

Well, dip it up.

Don't fall in.

Julie

(Coolly)

I think I can manage.

(She goes out again)

Bina

Ain't hardly a ripple on the lake today.

Smooth as glass.

(Curiously)

What does she want lake water for?

(Mrs. Sawters shrugs expressively)

What's she been doin' all afternoon?

Mrs. Sawters

While we've been getting things ready for tonight.

Bina

She's been in her room doin' sump'n.

Mrs. Sawters

Or nothing.

Bina

And Clabe's room, too.

I hea~red her in there.

Up and down.

Talkin' to herself.

Mrs. Sawters

Talking, anyway.

Bina

Talkin' to herself.

Who else? Nobody's been there since

Clabe went away. Except to clean.

Mrs. Sawters

Julie goes there most every day of the week.

Sundays, too.

Didn't you know?

Bina

What on earth for?

1-5A

Mrs. Sawters
(Who isn't telling all she knows)

I wouldn't care to speculate on Julie and her goings-on.

Bina
(Coming to her mother)

Maw. When is Clabe comin' home?

Mrs. Sawters
D oes any woman know what her children aim to do? I don't -
and never did. I don't pretend to read the future. The
past is deep enough for me, the Lord knows. Your brother'll
come home when he gets ready, or he'll stay in the navy,
and roust about till he's eighty-two and paralytic, I couldn't
say. Anyway, it's immaterial to me.

Bina
I don't see how we'll ever - !
(But she doesn't finish)

Ever what?

Mrs. Sawters

Bina
(Bursting out)

They's jist too much to do around here for Paw! I wish to
goodness Clabe had his belly full of the navy by this time
and would come on home where he belongs!

Mrs. Sawters
(With her light and maddening mockery)

Why, Bina, I never saw you so intense.

Bina
Oh, it jist makes me mad! What'd he ever go away for in the
first place!

(Julie has come in with her pitcher
of water)

Julie
(Pausing)

Who?

Bina
Clabe.

Julie
(With that slightly superior, but
infinitely subtle and secret scorn)

Maybe he had to.