“W’ich she did not, sah,” replied Pompous with dignity, “but des to sen’ yo’ ’way. Sich is my o’ders, sah.”
“Ah! But suppose I decline to go?”
“No ge’man, sah, as is a ge’man, would ’cline to leabe a lady’s house w’en he is onwelcome an’ ’quested so fo’ to do.”
“But if I have the right to stay and demand admittance?”
“Dat yo’ can’t hab, sah. An’ ef so be yo’ ’fuses to leabe de place quiet an’ ’spec’ful, my o’ders is werry sewere. Yes, sah, dey is.”
“And what may they be, pray?”
“To loose Tige on yo’, sah,” solemnly replied the negro.
“Tige? Who’s Tige?”
“Her aine a ‘who’; her is a what.”
“What is Tige, then?” demanded Hanson with a laugh.