“From Ohio, auntie.”
“You bist von Yankee, then.”
“No, I’m a Buckeye.”
“Von Puckeye! vas ish dat, eh?”
“One born in Ohio.”
“Unt vas your fater ein Sherman?”
“No, auntie, but my grandfather was.”
“O your grossfater. Vell, I tot dare vas some Shermeny blud; dot lickt hair und blau eyes zint der sign, meister.”
“Well, auntie, ’tis not bad blood, is it.”
“O nein. Mein Got, es ist dot best, but das Yankee is shust so goot,” to which of course I assented, with the remark that the two together are a little better, thus causing the old lady to laugh outright.