“Oh, he did,” said the old man, wrathfully. “I guess de nex’ thing you’ll be tryin’ to teach de ole man dat at de battle ob de Nelson, de Nile fell offen his hoss. Nex’, whut you say?”
“Dat ar battle wus a dead heat ’twixt Gen. Grant an’ Johnsing, wan’t it, Unc. Wash?”
“Sonny,” said the old man proudly, “I’m beginnin’ to think I orter resign an’ let you ax dese questions. I didn’t kno’ dar was so much hoss sense in hist’ry.”
“What am de princerpal organ ob circulation?” spelled out the old man.
Pompey thought a long time and thought it was the liver. The Preacher threw up his hand and a knowing smile went over his face.
“What am it, den?” asked the teacher.
“De hat,” shouted the candidate.
“Es dat’s de fust time you’ve come nigh it I’ll give you ten on dat,” said the old man, “but I think de P’inter boy can do better yet.”
“De princerpal organ ob circulashun,” said the Swipe, “am de little silver cartwheel dat is stamped wid de eagle.”
“Sunny,” said the old man, “you have sho’ been in de hoss bisness for some good. Now you Preacher man, whut was de greatest trade of England?”