Aunt Eller Oklahoma Lines

Lock in right now.

Hi, Aunt Eller!

Skeered me to death! Whut’re you doin’ around here?

(End of Oh, What A Beautiful Morning)

If I wasn’t a ole womern, and if you wasn’t so young and smart-alecky — why, I’d marry you and git you to set around all night and sing to me.

No, you wouldn’t neither. Cuz I wouldn’t marry her none of yer kinsfolk, I could he’p it.

Oh, none of my kinsfolk, huh?

And you c’n tell ‘em that, all of ‘m includin’ that niece of your’n, Miss Laurey Williams!

Aunt Eller, if you was to tell me whur Laurey was at — whur would you tell me she was at?

I wouldn’t tell you a-tall. Fer as fer as I c’n make out, Laurey ain’t payin’ you no heed.

So, she doesn’t take up to me much, huh?

Whur’d you get such an uppity niece ‘at wouldn’t pay no heed to me? Who’s the best bronc buster in this yere territory?

You, I bet.

And the best bull-dogger in seventeen counties? Me, that’s who! And looky here, I’m handsome, ain’t I?

Purty as a pitcher.

Curly-headed, ain’t I? And bow-legged from the saddle fer God knows how long, ain’t I?

Couldn’t stop a pig in the road.

Well, what else does she want then, the damned she-mule?

I don’t know. But I’m shore sartin’ it ain’t you. Who you takin’ to the Box Social tonight?

Ain’t thought much about it.

I bet you come over to ast Laurey.

Whuff I did?

You astin’ me too? I’ll wear my fascinator!

In the slickest gig you’ve seen!

Lands!

One’s like snow — the other’s more like Milk.

So y’can tell ‘em apart!

In that tiny little Surrey with the fringe on the top.

You’d shore feel like a queen settin’ up in that carriage!

Laurey: Monologue. Who’d like to ride ‘longside you anyway?

When’s you just grab her and kiss her when she acts that-a-way, Curly? She’s jist achin’ fer you to, I bet.

Laurey: Oh, I won’t speak to him, let alone ‘low him to kiss me, the braggin’, bow-legged, wisht-he’s-have-a-sweetheart bum!

She likes you — quite a lot.

Ike: Y’git the wagon hitched up?

Whut wagon?

Fred: Curly said mebbe you’d loan us yer big wagon to brung ‘em up from the station.

Course I would, if he’d ast me.

Slim: See whut we brung you, Aunt Eller!

Hi, Will!

Will: Hi, Aunt Eller!

Whut happened up at the fair? You do any good in steer ropin’?

Fred: Always knowed y’would.

Ain’t nobody c’n sling a rope like our territory boys.

Will: Cain’t stay but a minnit, Aunt Eller. Got to git over to Ado Annie. Don’t you remember, her paw said ‘f I ever was worth fifty dollars I could have her?

Fifty dollars! That’s whut they give you fer prize money?

Will: That’s whut!

Lands! If Ado Annie’s paw keeps his promise, we’ll be dancin’ at yer weddin’.

Will: They call it “The Little Wonder”!

Silly goats!

The hussy! ….Oughta be ashamed of herself.

You, too! How do you turn the thing to see the other pitcher?

Wait, I’m getting it….

I’m a good mind to tell Ado Annie on yer.

Will: Please don’t, Aunt Eller. She wouldn’t understand.

No tellin’ what you been up to. Bet you carried on plenty in Kansas City.

Curly: Aunt Eller, I got to know sumpin’. Listen, who’s the low, sneak ‘at Laurey’s got her cap set for?

You.

Curly: Never mind ‘at. They must be plenty of men a-tryin’ to spark her. And shorely leans to one of ‘em. Now don’t she?

Well, they is that fine farmer, Jace Hutchins, jist this side of Lone Ellum — nen that ole Widder man at Claremore, makes out he’s a doctor or a vet’nary-

Jud: Hello, yourself.

Nen of course there’s someone nearer home that’s got her on his mind most of the time, till he don’t know a plow from a thrashin’ machine.

Curly: Him?

Yeah, Jud Fry.

That hardened, growly man?

Now don’t you go and say nuthin’ agin’ him! He’s the best hired hand I ever had! Just about runs the farm by hisself. Well, two women couldn’t do it, you orta know that.

Curly: Well, wouldn’t that just make you bawl! Well, don’t fergit, Aunt Eller. You and me’s got a date together. And if you make up a nice box of lunch, mebbe I’ll bid fer it.

How we goin’, Curly? In that rig you made up? I’ll ride a-straddle of them lights a-winkin’ like lightnin’ bugs!

Curly: There ain’t no made-up rig, you hear me? I h’ared it over at Claremore.

Lands, you did?

End of Surrey With a Fringe.

Hey Curly, tell all the girls in Bushyhead to stop by here and freshen up. It’s a long way to Skidmore’s. That means we’ll have a lot of company. Better pack yer lunch hamper.

Laurey: Aunt Eller, don’t go to Skidmore’s with Curly tonight. If you do, I’ll have to ride with Jud all alone.

That’s the way you wanted it, ain’t it?

Laurey: Monologue. Ever go down to that ole smokehouse where he’s ‘at?

Plen’y times. Why?

Laurey: Did you see them pitchers he’s got tacked onto the walls?

Oh, yeah I seed them. But don’t you pay them no mind.

Laurey: ….under that tree outside my room.

Laurey!

Laurey: ….I know whut I’m talkin’ about.

You crazy young ‘un! Stop actin’ like a chicken with its head cut off! Now who’d you reckon that is drove up? Why, it’s that ole peddler! The one that sold me that egg-beater!

Laurey: He’s got Ado Annie with him! Will Parker’s Ado Annie!

Ole peddler! You know whut he tol’ me? Tol’ me that egg-beater ud beat up eggs, and wring out dishrags, and turn the ice-cream freezer, and I don’t know whut all!

Laurey: Yoohoo! Ado Annie!

Hold yer horses, Peddler-man! I want to talk to you!

Ado Annie: Hi, Aunt Eller!

Hi, yourself.

Ali Hakim: All right, all right! If the egg-beater don’t work I’ll give you something just as good!

Just as good! It’s got to be a thousand million times better!

Ali Hakim: Now, Aunt Eller, just lissen-

I ain’t yer Aunt Eller! Don’t call me Aunt Eller, you little wart. I’m mad at you.

Ali Hakim: Don’t you go and be mad at me. Ain’t I said I’d give you a present? Something to wear.

Foot! Got things fer to wear. Wouldn’t have it. Whut is it?

Ali Hakim: Real silk. Made in Persia!

Whut’d I want with a ole Persian garter?

Ado Annie: They look awful purty, Aunt Eller, with bows onto ‘em and all.

I’ll try ‘em on.

Ali Hakim: Hold out your foot.

Did you have any idy I was goin’ ter let you slide that garter up my limb? Grab onto my petticoats, Laurey.

Ado Annie: Yeh, cuz that ud make her stockin’s fall down, wouldn’t it?

Now give me the other one.

Ali Hakim: Which one? Oh, you want to buy this one to match the other one?

Whut do you mean do I want to buy it?

Ali Hakim: I can let you have it for fifty cents — four bits.

Do you want me to get that egg-beater and ram it down yer windpipe!

Laurey: Monologue. Want perfume, wanta be purty, wanta smell like a honeysuckle vine!

Give her a cake of soap.

Ali Hakim: It’s a secret formula, belonged to Pharaoh’s daughter!

Smellin’ salts!

Ali Hakim: Two bits.

Throwin’ away yer money!

Ali Hakim: Now don’t you want me to show you some pretty dewdads? You know, with lace around the bottom, and ribbons running in and out?

You mean fancy drawers?

Ali Hakim: All made in Paris.

Well, I never wear that kind myself, but I shore do like to look at ‘em.

Ado Annie: Y-yeah, they’s all right - if you ain’t goin’ no place.

Bring yer trappin’s inside and mebbe I c’n find you sumpin to eat and drink.

Entrance of the Ensemble

Hey, Curly! Better take the wagon down to the troft and give the team some water.

Laurey: Whut’d I keer about that?

Come on, boys, better git these hampers out under the trees where it’s cool.

Gertie: Ain’t she funny!

Gertie! Better come inside, and cool off.

Laurey: Yeow. But not since she got so old. Never did see anybody get so peeked-lookin’ in sich a short time.

Yeah, and she says she’s only eighteen. I betcha she’s nineteen.

Laurey breaking down.

Got yer hamper packed?

Laurey: Oh, Aunt Eller…. Yes, nearly.

Like a hanky?

Laurey: Whut’d I want with and ole hanky?

Y’got a smudge on yer cheek — jist under yer eye.

Curly: Somebody’s a-comin’, I ‘spect.

Who f’ard off a gun? Was that you, Curly? Don’t set there, you lummy. Answer when you’re spoke to?

Curly: Well, I shot onct.

What was you shootin’ at?

Curly: See that knot-hole over there?

I see lots of knot-holes.

Curly: Well, it was one of them.

Well, ain’t you a pair of purty nuthin’s, a-pickin’ away at knot-holes and skeerin’ everybody to death! Orta give you a good Dutch rub and are the craziness out of you! ‘S all right! Nobody hurt. Just a pair of fools swappin’ noises.

Man: Aunt Eller!

Let one of the men be auctioneer.

Crowd: Ad-libbing.

All right then. Now you know the rules, gentlemen. Y’got to bid blind. Y’ain’t s’posed to know whut girl goes with whut hamper. Of course, if yer sweetheart has told you hers’ll be done up in a certain kind of way with a certain color ribbon, that ain’t my fault, Now we’ll auction all the hampers on t’other side of the house and work around back here. Follow me.

Ali Hakim: Say, young feller, you certainly bunkoed me!

Now, here’s the last two hampers! Whose they are I ain’t got no idea!

Ado Annie: The littel un’s mine! And the one next to it is Laurey’s!

Well, that’s the end of that secret. Now whut am I bid fer Ado Annie’s hamper?

Cord Elam: Four.

Who says six? You, Slim? Ain’t nobody hungry no more? — Whut about you, Peddler-man? Six bits?

Ali Hakim: Six bits!

Six bits ain’t enough fer a lunch like Ado Annie c’n make. Le’s hear a dollar. How about you, Mike? You won her last year.

Ado Annie: You bet.

Same old sweet-pertater pie, Mike. Whut d’you say?

Ali Hakim: Ninety cents.

Ninety cents, we’re gettin’ rich. ‘Nother desk fer th’ schoolhouse. Do I hear more?

Will: You hear fifty dollars!

Ali Hakim: Hey!

Fifty dollars! Nobody ever bid fifty dollars fer a lunch! Nobody ever bid ten.

Will: Now wait a minute. That ain’t fair!

Goin’ fer fifty dollars! Goin’….

Will: Wait a minute. Wait! ‘F I don’t bid any more I c’n keep my money, cain’t I?

Shore can.

Carnes: You feeble-minded shike-poke!

Goin’, goin’, gone fer fifty-one dollars and ‘at means Ado Annie’ll git the prize, I guess.

Ali Hakim: A three-day bellyache!

Now, here’s my niece’s hamper. I took a peek inside a while ago and I must say it looks mighty tasty. Whut do I hear, gents?

Fred: Four bits!

Whut d’you say, Slim? Six?

Carnes: I bid one dollar!

More like it! Do I hear two?

Jud: And two bits.

Four and a quarter. Ain’t I goin’ to hear any more? I got a bid of four and a quarter — from Jud Fry. You goin’ to let him have it?

Carnes: Four and a half.

Four and a half! Goin’ fer four and a half! Goin’….

Jud: Four seventy-five.

Four seventy-five. Come on, gentlemen. Schoolhouse ain’t built yet. Got to git a nice chimbley.

Cord Elam: Five dollars.

Goin’ fer five dollars! Goin’….

Cord Elam: Too rich for my blood! Cain’t afford no more.

Five and a quarter! Ain’t got nearly enough yet. Not fer cold duck with stuffin’ and that lemon-meringue pie.

Carnes: Six dollars.

Six dollars! Goin’….

Jud: And two bits.

My, you’re stubborn, Jud. Mr. Carnes is a richer man’n you. And I know he likes custard with raspberry syrup. Anybody goin’ to bid any more?

Jud: Here’s the money.

Hold on, you! I ain’t said “Goin’, goin’, gone” yet!

Jud: Well, say it!

Goin’ to Jud Fry fer six dollars and two bits! Goin’….

Curly: Who’d you say was gittin’ Laurey?

Jud Fry.

Curly: And fer how much?

Six and a quarter.

Curly: Aunt Eller, I’m biddin’ all of this ten dollars Joe jist give me.

Ten dollars — goin’….

Jud: Ten dollars and two bits.

Curly….

Curly: I’ll sell Dun to you. That makes the bid thirty-five, Aunt Eller.

Curly, yer crazy! But it’s all fer the schoolhouse, ain’t it? All fer educatin’ and larnin’. Goin’ fer thirty-five. Goin’-

Curly: Sold. That makes my bid fifty-three dollars, Aunt Eller. Anybody goin’ any higher?

Goin’ — goin’ — gone! Whut’s the matter with you folks? Ain’t nobody gonna cheer er nuthin’?

Jud: Something special. You jist put this up to yer eye like this, see?

Curly! Curly, whut you doin’?

Curly: Doin’? Nuthin’ much. Whut you want to squeal at a man like ‘at fer? Skeer the liver and the lights out of a feller.

Well then, stop lookin’ at those ole French pitchers and fast me fer a dance. You brung me to the party, didn’t you?

Curly: All right then you silly ole woman, I’ll dance ‘th you. Dance you all over the meadow, you want!

Then prove it, cowboy!

Curly: Hey! Y’bette hurry into that other dress! Gotta git goin’ in a minnit!

You hurry and pack yer own duds! They’re layin’ all over my room.