After a moment of reflection, Porgy replied: “Sense do berry well; but he can’t lift no weight.{44}”
{44}
A big stevedore was crossing the court, his body moving easily with the panther-like flow of enormous muscular power under absolute control.
The beggar’s eyes became wistful.
“Sense gots power tuh take a t’ing atter yuh gits dere,” he said. “But he nebber puts bittle in a belly what can’t leabe he restin’ place. What I goin’ do now sence Peter gone, an’ I can’t git on de street?”
“Pray, Brudder, pray,” said the widow devoutly. “Ain’t yuh see Gawd done soffen de haht of dat yalluh buryin’ ondehtakuh attuh I done pray tuh him fuh a whole day an’ night? Gawd gots leg fuh de cripple.”
“Bless de Lord!” ejaculated the young woman.
“An’ he gots comfort fuh de widder.”
“Oh, my Jedus!” crooned Porgy, beginning to sway.
“An’ food fuh de fadderless.”
“Yes, Lord!”
“An’ he goin’ raise dis poor nigger out de dus’.”
“Allelujah!”
“An’ set um in de seat ob de righteous.”
“Amen, my Sister!”
For a little while the three figures, showing now only as denser shadows in a world of shade, swayed slowly from side to side.{45} Then, without saying a word, Porgy drew himself across his threshold, and closed the door very softly.
{45}
§
It was not yet day when Porgy awakened suddenly. His eyes were wide, and his face was working with unwonted emotion. In the faint light that penetrated his bleared window from a street lamp, he made his way to the hearth, and removed the brick from his secret depository. With feverish haste he counted his little
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