'What's that? Never heerd on them afore.'
'An old-fashioned Whig, madam, is a man whose political principles are perfect, and who is as perfect as his principles.'
That was a 'stumper' for the poor woman, who evidently did not understand one half of the sentence.
'Right sort of folks, them,' she said, in a half inquiring tone.
'Yes, but they're all dead now.'
'Dead?'
'Yes, dead, beyond the hope of resurrection.'
'I've heern all the dead war to be resurrected. Didn't ye say ye war one on 'em? Ye ain't dead yet,' said the woman, chuckling at having cornered me.
'But I'm more than half dead just now.'
'Ah,' replied the woman, still laughing, 'yer a chicken.'