“Have you ever been in Boston?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Having thus obtained nothing very satisfactory from me, in relation to my birth-place, he commenced asking me if I had been to the Capital of this State, and then the other, until he had got through the whole of them; he then, to my astonishment, commenced with the country towns, doubtless with the hope of hitting at last upon the one in which I was born. Getting a little out of patience, I said:
“I presume, Sir, you wish to ascertain where I was born?”
“Wal, yes, I shouldn’t mind knowing, if you have no objection to tell, and if you had told me before, you would have saved me a darned sight of trouble.”
“Well,” I said, “I was born in Boston, in the year 1809, on the 8th day of October, at six o’clock in the morning.”
“At six o’clock, eh?”
“At six o’clock precisely, down in Water Street.”
“Dew tell. But, stranger, dew you remember the number of the house?”