One day we drove up to a farmer who was working in the garden, and Lute inquired at the top of his voice if he had any sheep to sell.
The man said he did not, and never had owned a sheep in his life. I waited until Mr. Smith looked at me for the man's answer when I said:
"Yes, he has some for sale."
Then a conversation about as follows ensued:
Smith—"Are they wethers or ewes?"
Farmer—"I told you I had none for sale."
Interpreter—In undertone, "Wethers."
Smith—"Are they fat?"
Farmer—"Fat nothing. I tell you I have no sheep."