“I tell yuh dat nigger happy,” he said to Serena, one evening while they were smoking their pipes together on her washing bench.
“Go ’long wid yuh!” she retorted. “Dat ’oman ain’t de kin’ tuh mek man happy. It tek a killer like Crown tuh hol’ she down.”
“Dat may be so,” agreed the old man sagely. “But Porgy don’ know dat yit. An’ ’side, ef a man is de kin’ wut needs er ’oman, he goin’ be happy regahdless. Him dress she up in he own eye till she look lak de Queen of Sheba tuh um. Porgy t’ink right now dat he gots a she-gawd in he room.”
“He sho’ gots de kin’ wut goin’ gib um hell,” Serena commented cynically. “Dat ’oman ain’t fit tuh ’sociate wid. Much as I like Porgy, I wouldn’t swap t’ree wo’d wid she.”
“Dat’s all so, Sister,” conceded Peter. “But yuh keep yo’ eye on Porgy. He usen tuh hate all dese chillen. Ain’t he? Now watch um. Ebery day w’en he come home he gots candy-ball fuh de crowd. An’ wut mo’, yistuhday I hyuh he an’ she singin’ tuhgedduh in dey room.”
Serena motioned to him to be quiet. Porgy’s woman crossed the court to draw a bucket of water from the common tap near Serena’s corner. She was neatly dressed, and passed them as though they did not exist. Filling her pail, she swung it easily to her head, and, steadying it lightly with one hand, returned close to them with an air of cool scorn that produced entirely different effects upon her two observers. Serena watched her departure in silence.
“Dat de t’ing!” said Peter, a note of admiration in his voice. “She sho ain’t axin’ no visit offen none of she neighbor.” And he emitted an indiscreet chuckle, which was too much for his friend.
“Yuh po’, ole, wall-eyed, sof’-headed gran’daddy! Ain’t yuh ’shame’ tuh set dey befo’ me, an’ talk sweet-mout’ ’bout dat murderin’ Crown’s Bess? Ef I wuz yo’ age, an’ er man, I’d sabe my sof’ wo’d fer de Gawd-farin’ ladies.”
“Ef yuh wuz my age, an’ a man—” commenced Peter. He hesitated, and looked long at her with his dim, kindly eyes; then he shook his head. “No; it ain’t no use. Yuh wouldn’t onderstan’. Dat somet’ing shemale sense ain’t goin’ tuh help yuh none wid.” And, still shaking his head, he knocked out his pipe, and departed in the direction of the stable, where he was presently greeted by a soft, comprehending whinny.
Bess entered Porgy’s room and swung her pail of water to its place beside the new wood stove that had superseded the old, open hearth, and busied herself with preparations for supper.