Inq. It’s the number of persons I want to know.
Mrs. T. Very well, Mr. Flippergin, ain’t Jowler a person? Come here, Jowler, and speak for yourself. I’m sure he’s as personable a dog as there is in the whole State.
Inq. He’s a very clever dog, no doubt. But it’s the number of human beings I want to know.
Mrs. T. Human! There ain’t a more human dog that ever breathed.
Inq. Well, but I mean the two-legged kind of beings.
Mrs. T. Oh, the two-legged, is it? Well, then, there’s the old rooster, he’s seven; the fighting-cock is eight, and the bantam is nine——
Inq. Stop, stop, good woman, I don’t want to know the number of your fowls.
Mrs. T. I’m very sorry indeed, I can’t please you, such a sweet gentleman as you are. But didn’t you tell me—’twas the two-legged beings——
Inq. True, but I didn’t mean the hens.
Mrs. T. Oh, now I understand you. The old gobbler, he’s seven, the hen turkey is eight; and if you’ll wait a week there’ll be a parcel of young ones, for the old hen turkey is setting on a whole snarl of eggs.