PART III
PORGY drove slowly down King Charles Street, and appraised the prospects for hitching and settling awhile in the narrow strip of shade against the walls of the buildings. The day was sweltering, and both cripple and goat were drooping beneath the steady pressure of the sun.
A man passed, walking briskly. Porgy at once recognized the long, easy stride, and the soft felt hat drawn rather low over the eyes. He reached out and gave a slight twist to the tail of his somnambulant animal, which resulted in a shambling trot that brought the vehicle abreast of the pedestrian. But at that moment the gentleman stopped, produced a key, and opening the door of an office, passed in without looking around.
Porgy eyed the office and its environs with evident satisfaction. The building stood very near the old apothecary shop; and between it and its neighbor to the east was an entrance way several feet in width, which breathed forth an inviting coolness from its deep shade. No one was passing at the moment. Porgy turned the head of his beast toward the entrance, gave a sudden twist to the tail, and drove audaciously across the pavement, and into the retreat. Then he hitched his wagon a few feet from the street, and seated himself, cup in hand, at the pavement’s inner edge.
“Yuh bes’ git along out of Mr. Alan’ do’way wid dat goat befo’ he fin’ yuh. Ain’t yuh onduhstan’ gentlemen ain’t likes tuh smell goat?”
Porgy looked up and met the threatening gaze of Simon Frasier.
Frasier was a practising attorney-at-law. He was well past fifty years of age, and his greying wool looked very white in comparison with his uncompromisingly black skin. He had voted the democratic ticket in the dark period of reconstruction, when such action on his part took no little courage, and accordingly enjoyed the almost unlimited toleration of the aristocracy. Without possessing the official sanction of the State for the practice of his profession, he was, by common consent among the lawyers, permitted to represent his own people in the police and magistrates’ courts and to turn his hand to other small legal matters into which it was thought inadvisable to enquire too deeply.
Porgy regarded his accuser stonily.
“Ob course gentlemen ain’t likes tuh smell goat,” he replied.
The door opened, and Archdale looked out. From where Porgy sat he could have touched him with his hand; yet the cripple’s gaze never wavered from the face of the negro, and his expression remained unchanged. Forestalling an interruption, he hastened on, in a voice that had become mildly incredulous, as he continued, “But it can’t be dat attuh knowing buckra long as yuh been know um, yuh ain’t onduhstan’ um any better dan tuh t’ink dey would dribe away po’ cripple in de heat.”
Archdale made a movement that actually crossed Porgy’s line of vision; but the beggar’s face gave no sign of recognition. His voice rose to a pitch of indignation:
“Yuh might be a lawyuh, an’ all dat; but I ain’t goin’ tuh hab yuh stan’ dey an’ tell me dat Mistuh Archdale gots dem po’ w’ite-trash ways. Ob course he don’t likes de smell ob goat; but he gots er haht in he breas’ fuh de po’ cripple nigger.”
A wry smile tugged at the corner of Archdale’s mouth.
“All right, Porgy,” he said, “I got it all; but, gentleman or no gentleman, I can’t have a goat on my doorstep. I would not have one client left in a week.”
At the sound of Archdale’s voice, Porgy looked around. His entire body seemed to express amazement.
“Why, hyuh’s de Boss now!” he cried. Then he turned triumphantly to the negro, and added, “Wut I done tells yuh ’bout de real quality; ain’t yuh done see he say I kin stay?”
Archdale became desperate. “I did not say you could,” he cried, with the manner of one who puts his foot in the crack of a closing door. “You can wait there today, as I will be in court all morning; but tomorrow you must find somewhere else.”
“By tuhmorruh I goin’ hab dis goat wash till yuh can’t tell um from one of dem rosebush in de pahk!” Porgy assured him with an ingenuous smile. “Yuh is goin’ to be mighty lubbin’ of dis goat attuh a while, Boss.”
“No; goats don’t wash, Porgy. Away you go after today.” But the power of absolute conviction was not in Archdale’s voice. His foot was still in the crack; but he knew that the door was closing.
“All right, Frasier; I’ll see you now about your divorce business,” he said to the other negro, and showed him into the office.
Presently through an open window behind Porgy came the sound of Archdale’s voice:
“All right, Frasier. Out with it. The gentleman who has come down to improve moral conditions among the negroes thinks you are a menace. He is going to have you indicted for granting divorces illegally.”
In a voice very different from the one in which he had arraigned Porgy, Frasier began:
“I fin’ so much nigger onsattify wid dere marriage, an’ I hyuh tell ob a t’ing dey calls divorce.”
“Yes?” encouraged his questioner.
“So fuh a long time now I been separate dem wid a divorce wut I mek up fuh de pu’pose. An’ he go fine, Boss. I done mek too much nigger happy.”
“Have you one of the papers with you?”
Silence; and then Archdale’s voice again.
“‘I, Simon Frasier, hereby divorce Rachel Smalls and Columbus Devo for the charge of one dollar; signed, Simon Frasier.’ Well, that is simple enough. Where did you get this seal?”
“I done buy um from de junk-shop Jew, Boss.”
“Don’t you know there is no such thing as divorce in this State?”
“I hyuh tell dere ain’t no such t’ing fuh de w’ite folks; but de nigger need um so bad, I ain’t see no reason why I can’t mek up one wut sati’fy de nigger? He seem tuh work berry well, too, till dat sof’ mout’ gentleman come ’roun’ an’ onsettle all my client.”
A groan floated through the window to Porgy’s ears, causing him to indulge in a slow, malicious smile. Then in a pained voice the negro lawyer proceeded: “He been keepin’ me alibe, Boss. An’ wut mo’, he keep de nigger straight. Dis gentleman say dat dey gots tuh lib tuhgedduh anyhow till dey done dead. Dat’s de law, he say. But nigger ain’t mek dataway. I done get um all properly moralize, and dis same gentleman tell um dat my paper ain’t no mo’ dan a license tuh ’dulterate. So now dey just leabe each odduh anyhow, and I ain’t gets no dollar. An’ now he say he goin’ jail me, wut mo’!”
There was a moment of silence, then Porgy heard Archdale’s voice calling a number; then: “Hello! Is that the Solicitor’s office? Mr. Dennis, please.”
“Oh—this is Archdale, Dennis. Yes, another negro. This time it is Frasier, you know, the divorce decree case. Yes, I have him here in my office. Look here; you have a terrifically heavy docket this term. There is no use taking the State’s money and your valuable time on this case.”
There followed a pause; then Archdale said hastily, “Oh, no; I am not trying anything; but he is perfectly innocent of any deliberate wrongdoing. Yes, of course; it would be serious if he were responsible; but you know no one takes old Frasier seriously. A no-bill from the grand jury would save no end of time and trouble.
“Yes; I will guarantee that he will stop.”
Porgy listened intently; and after a moment he heard Archdale say, “Thank you,” and turn his chair toward his client. Then he heard him address the negro.
“We are not going to lock you up this time, Simon. But you will have to stop divorcing your people. I have given my word. If you do it again, snap! to jail we both go. Do you understand?”
A relieved gasp greeted the announcement, followed by “Gawd bless yuh, Boss!” and a moment later Frasier stood blinking in the white glare of the street.
Porgy looked up, and in an exact imitation of Frasier’s professional manner, said testily, “Mobe on, please; mobe on. I gots a berry perlite goat hyuh wut objec’ tuh de smell ob de jail-bird.”
A chuckle sounded from Archdale’s office.
Immediately the light of victory, carefully veiled, but bright, shone in Porgy’s eyes. He reached behind him and tweaked the goat by the ear. The dejected animal mistook the signal, and started forward.
“No, no, bubber,” whispered Porgy. “Ain’t yuh hear de Boss laugh? When nigger mek de buckra laugh, den he know he done won. Dis wey we goin’ spen’ we libe. You watch.”