And once upon a time, in the extreme southern part of Indiana where the ice doesn’t get very thick—not over three inches—there was a backwoods preacher who made a trip to Evansville and saw an ice machine making ice a foot thick, and he came back and told his congregation about it.
“Whaddy think of that!” one of the old members exclaimed. “The Lord can’t make it more’n three inches around here, and he says men in Evansville can make it a foot thick!”
So they turned the old preacher out for lying, b’gosh!
Once upon a time there was an old Irishman got on the train at Carmel, Indiana, and walked in the car, but the seats were all taken. One was occupied by an Indiana farmer and his dog. The Irishman knew, if he tried to make the dog get down and give him the seat, he would have the farmer and the dog to fight.
“That’s a very fine darg ye have.”
“Yes, stranger; he’s the finest dog in the county.”
“And he has the marks of a good coon darg.”
“That’s right. He can come as near findin' coons where there ain’t any as the next one.”
“What brade of darg is he?”
“Well, he’s a cross between an Irishman and a skunk.”