Old Jerry, waiter as well as man-of-all-work, obeyed him spryly with many a chuckled "Yes, doctor; yes, mars'r," which indicated that the doctor was a less formidable person than he seemed.
"That good-for-nothin' Jinnie ought to go to Geo'gia trade, mars'r, that's where she ought to be sent a-flyin'. Didn't get you no breakfus! Yes, mars'r, these is meant for cakes." Old Jerry looked toward the kitchen. "That one out there's like Jinnie, mars'r. The wimmen, they is all alike, seems to me."
The doctor looked as though he agreed with Jerry's humorous disgust with the sex. Utterly, watching him, grew more certain that here at last was promise of intelligence. He might have been less sure of the doctor's intelligence could he have seen the complete turn of head and body which followed his own exit.
"These," said Dr. Green, "go clad as the angels."
Jerry bent to pick up the doctor's napkin, and once bent to the floor, found it difficult to rise, so convulsed was he.
"Yes, mars'r, that am so."
Stopping at the bar on his way from the dining-room, Utterly asked the hotel-keeper the name of the teacher of English at the college. The hotel-keeper regarded his white apparel with unconcealed astonishment, and shook his head.
"Can't tell you. Don't believe you can do any business out there this morning. They're having their graduating exercises. Is your line books?"
"Yes," answered Utterly. "That's my line."