"Well, I has and I hasn't!" the old man responded. "You see, I has a place, but it's got a tenant, and she's a queer 'un to deal with!"
"Well, you can't let your house twice over," I interrupted rather shortly, thinking the old fellow was making fun of me; "so there is an end to the matter!"
"Hold on a bit!" returned the patriarch. "I've given this here widder notice to quit, for I can't get no rent out of her, but lor! she don't care no more for notices than nothing at all!"
"But has she a lease?" I demanded.
"Lease indeed!" quoth the ancient one indignantly. "Cock her up with a lease! Why, she's only a weekly tenant, but, my word, she's a terror!"
"If she won't pay, there should be no difficulty in getting rid of her," I remarked.
"May be not! may be not!" he answered slowly, and in unconvinced tones; "but you don't know her. She's a terror! my word! she is a terror! But I tell you what," he continued, brightening up; "you go and say you heard she was going away, and you would like to see the place. I'll show you the way."
"Don't you think it would be better for you to see her yourself and arrange matters?" I queried.
"Me see her!—me arrange matters with her!" he screamed; "catch me at it. Me and the widder don't hit it at all, and she's a regler terror, she is. But you're all right though; she will be civil enough to you."