Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 281

She's a mighty good little steam-boat.

LUT'ER. She's water-logged.

GIZ. She ain't water-logged.

LUT'ER. She is.

GIZ. She ain't.

LUT'ER. She is.

GIZ. She ain't.

[_The argument dies of malnutrition. After a moment of silence Giz speaks._]

GIZ. 'S river raisin'?

LUT'ER. Nup!

[_Silence._]

GIZ. Fallin'?

LUT'ER. Nup!

GIZ. Standin' still?

LUT'ER. Uh!

[_The conversation might continue if Giz did not catch a mosquito on his leg._]

GIZ. Gos.h.!.+ A galler-nipper at noonday!

[_Lut'er scratches back of his ear warily._]

GIZ. An' look at the whelp!

[_Giz scratches actively, examines the wound and anoints it with tobacco juice._

_The Play would be ended at this moment for lack of varied action if Dr. Stev'n Vandexter did not enter._

_He is an eager, healthy-looking man with a whitish beard that long was.h.i.+ng in Ohio River water has turned yellowish. He wears spectacles and his clothes and general appearance are somewhat an improvement upon Lut'er and Giz. Furthermore he wears what were shoes and both supports of his suspenders are fairly intact. He is whittling a piece of white pine with a large jack-knife._

_Seeing Lut'er and Giz he draws the log between them and sits._

_After a moment in which three cuds are audibly chewed, Dr. Stev'n speaks._]

DOCTOR. What gits me is how they done it.

[_For the first time Lut'er turns his head as admission that some one is there. Giz looks up with a dawn of interest under his beard. Silence._]

DOCTOR. I traded a two-pound catfish for a box of that salve: an' I don't see how they done it.

[_Lut'er having turned his head keeps it turned. Evidently Dr.

Stev'n always has something of interest to say._]

GIZ. Kickapoo?

DOCTOR. Ye'. Kickapoo Indian Salve. I don't think no Indian never seen it.

[_He looks at Giz for acquiescence._]

GIZ. Y'ain't never sure about nothin' these days.

[_Dr. Stev'n looks at Lut'er for acquiescence also, and Lut'er approving turns his head forward and spits a.s.sent._]

DOCTOR. I smelled it an' it smelled like ker'sene. I biled it an' it biled over an' burnt up like ker'sene.... I don't think it was nothin'

but ker'sene an' lard.

GIZ. Reckon 't wuz common ker'sene?

DOCTOR. I don't know whether 't wuz common ker'sene but I know 't wuz ker'sene.... An' I bet ker'sene'll cure heaps o' troubles if yer use it right.

GIZ. That air doctor said the salve ud cure most anything.

LUT'ER [_as though a voice from the grave, long forgotten_]. Which doctor?

GIZ. The man doctor--him with the p'inted musstash.

LUT'ER. I seen him take a egg outer Jimmie Weldon's ear--an' Jimmie swore he didn't have no hen in his head.

DOCTOR. But the lady doctor said it warn't so good--effie-cacious she called it--withouten you took two bottles o' the buildin' up medicine, a box o' the liver pills an' a bottle o' the hair fluid.

GIZ. She knowed a lot. She told me just how I felt an' she said she hated to trouble me but I had a internal ailment. An' she said I needed all their medicine jus' like the Indians used it. But I told her I didn't have no money so she said maybe the box o' liver pills would do if I'd bring 'em some corn for their supper.

DOCTOR. Y' got the liver pills?

GIZ. Uh-huh.

LUT'ER. Took any?

GIZ. Nup, I'm savin' 'em.

LUT'ER. What fur?

GIZ. Till I'm feelin' sicker'n I am now.

DOCTOR. Where are they?