in er week; an' de horse man, de furniture man, an' de lan'lo'd mek dey 'rangement' accordin'. But I done lib long 'nough now tuh beat 'em all, 'cause money ain't no use tuh a man attuh he done pass he prime, nohow."
When the old man had settled firmly back into his nook, and had an opportunity to look about him, he noticed a change in Porgy.
"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."
