Well, he heard about what a good--that I was pretty lucky when it come to shootin' wild geese, and I'm blessed if he didn't send me orders to get him one for a dinner he was goin' to give.

Didn't ask--_ordered_ me to do it, you understand.

And him nothin' but a consignee, with no more control over me than the average female Sunday-school teacher has over a class of boys.

Not so much, because she's supposed to have official authority, and he wa'n't.

_And_ he didn't invite me to the dinner.
"Well, the next time my friend, the ex-consul, and I went out gunnin', I told him of the Englishman's 'orders.' He was mad.