“Caught them.”
“Wal, I s’pose you did; but what kinder bait do you use?”
“Worms.”
“Varms! Why, under Heaven, where do you get varms at this time of the year?”
“I got these out of my cellar.”
“Get out! how you do talk!”
“You may believe me or not, as you like; but I can assure you I did.”
“Wal, do tell. I guess I never thought of diggin’ in the cellar; I will go to hum and try.”
My friend met him a few days afterwards, when the Yankee said—“I calculate, Mister, you told me a tarnation lie, the other day, about them ’ere varms. I went and dug up every bit of my cellar, and, I do declare, I never got a single varm.”
My friend laughed very heartily at this “Yankee diggin,” but at the same time kindly informed his neighbour of the method he pursued, to provide worms for winter-fishing.