wid all dem w'ite folks lookin' at me. Dat it?"
His voice was so piteous that the constable reassured him:
"Oh, cheer up; it's not so bad. I reckon you've seen a dead nigger before this. It will all be over in a few minutes."
"Dey ain't goin' be no nigger in dat room 'cept me?" Porgy asked.
"Just you and Crown, if you still call him one."
After a moment Porgy asked:
"I couldn't jus' bring a 'oman wid me? I couldn't eben carry my-my 'oman?"
"No," said the white man positively. "Now I've got to be gettin' along, I reckon. Just come over to the Court House in half an hour, and I'll meet you and take you in. Only be sure to come. If you don't show up it's jail for you, you know."
For a moment after the man had gone, Porgy sat immovable, with his eyes on the pavement. Then a sudden change swept over him. He cast one glance up and down the hard, clean street, walled by its uncompromising, many-eyed buildings. Then in a panic he clambered into his cart, gave a cruel twist to the tail of his astonished goat, and commenced a spasmodic, shambling race up Meeting House Road in the direction in
