The Reivers Page #3

than I thought I was capable of inventing...

and I'd had them believed...

a fact which had me spellbound,

if not appalled.

How do you feel about things now?

I don't know yet.

We're going to have fun. I'm telling you,

we're gonna have a good time.

Maybe the best time of our whole lives.

When we get there, I want to drive her in.

All right, you'll do that.

Right across the Fourth Street bridge...

in front of all those hotels and right smack

into the center of town, okay?

Camptown ladies sing that song

Doo-dah! Doo-dah!

Camptown racetrack five miles long

Oh! The doo-dah day!

Gonna run all night!

Gonna run all day!

Gonna bet my money on a bob-tail nag

Somebody bet on the bay

You see, Boon knew something I didn't.

That the rewards of virtue...

are cold and odorless and tasteless...

and not to be compared...

to the bright and exciting pleasures

of sin and wrongdoing.

Camptown ladies sing that song

Doo-dah! Doo-dah!

Camptown racetrack five miles long

Oh! The doo-dah day!

- Gonna sing all night!

- Gonna run all day!

Bet my money on a bob-tail nag

Somebody bet on the bay

All right!

Now what the hell are you doing there?

- Singing.

- Out!

Hey, wait a minute. I'm going along.

You weren't invited.

If I wait till I'm invited,

I never will go nowhere.

And anyway, somebody with sense

has to be around to look after the boy.

- Oh, and that's you!

- Well, it ain't you.

I didn't get him to tell lies

all around the countryside...

and steal his granddaddy's automobile.

- Borrow.

- Whatever.

- It wouldn't hurt if he came along.

- It isn't gonna help either.

I've got a right to a trip,

same as you and Lucius.

I'm kin and you ain't.

- What'll you give?

- A packet of snuff.

- Don't use it.

- My pocket watch.

- It don't work.

- A wood-smoked ham.

- How many pounds?

- Ten.

Done.

Imagine me, a white man,

having to chauffeur a n*gger to Memphis.

I thought for a minute that me and you

was gonna misunderstand one another.

Let's go.

And so we were three, three reivers,

hightailing it for Memphis.

Oh, "reivers"...

that's an old-fashioned word

from my childhood.

In plain English,

I'm afraid it meant "thieves."

...had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o

and on that farm he had some chicks

ee-i-ee-i-o

and a chick-chick here

and a chick-chick there

here a chick, there a chick

everywhere a chick-chick

Look out!

Look at him. Sitting there

as innocent as a new-laid egg.

Who's he?

He's the son of a b*tch

who takes that team...

and works this place like a patch

to keep it muddy.

Last year he charged me $2

to pull out my wagon.

$2? That sure beats cotton.

He ain't gonna get me this time.

This here is an 18-horsepower automobile

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