"You will have to see the municipal authorities about that, Mr.
Poquelin."

A bitter smile came upon the old man's face:

"_Pardon, Monsieur_, you is not _le Gouverneur_?"

"Yes."

"_Mais_, yes. You har _le Gouverneur_--yes. Veh-well. I come to you. I
tell you, strit can't pass at me 'ouse."

"But you will have to see"--

"I come to you. You is _le Gouverneur_. I know not the new laws. I ham a
Fr-r-rench-a-man! Fr-rench-a-man have something _aller au contraire_--he
come at his _Gouverneur_. I come at you. If me not had been bought from
me king like _bossals_ in the hold time, ze king gof--France
would-a-show _Monsieur le Gouverneur_ to take care his men to make strit
in right places. _Mais_, I know; we billong to _Monsieur le Président_.
I want you do somesin for me, eh?"

"What is it?" asked the patient Governor.

"I want you tell _Monsieur le Président_,
strit--can't--pass--at--me--'ouse."

"Have a chair, Mr. Poquelin;" but the old man did not stir. The Governor
took a quill and wrote a line to a city official, introducing Mr.