sherners thar, don't ye? them people that go agin the South?"

"Yes, some of them."

"What do they go agin the South for?"

"They go for freeing the slaves. Some of them think a black man as good
as a white one."

"Quar, that; yer an Ablisherner, arnt ye?"

"No, I'm an old-fashioned Whig."

"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."

"Iv'e heern all the dead war to be resurrected. Didn't ye say ye war one
on 'em? _Ye_ aint 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."

"A chicken! what's that?"

"A thing that goes on tu legs, and karkles," was the ready reply.

"Ah, my dear madam, you can out-talk me."

"Yas, I reckon I kin outrun ye, tu. Ye arnt over rugged." Then, after a
pause, she added--"What d'ye 'lect that darky, Linkum, President for?"

"I didn't elect him. _I_ voted for Douglas. But Lincoln is not a darky."

"He's a mullater, then; I've heern he war," she replied.

"No, he's not a mulatto; he's a rail-splitter."

"Rail-splitter? _Then he's a nigger, shore._"

"No, madam; white men at the North split rails."

"An' white wimmin tu, p'raps," said the woman, with a contemptuous toss
of the head.

"No, they don't," I replied, "but white women _work_ there."

"White wimmin work thar!" chimed in the hitherto speechless beauty,
showing a set of teeth of the exact color of her skin--_yaller_. "What
du the' du?"

"Some of them attend in stores, some set type, some teach school, and
some work in factories."

"Du tell! Dress nice, and make money?"

"Yes," I replied, "they make money, and dress like fine ladies; in fact,
_are_ fine ladies. I know one young woman, of about your age, that had
to get her own education, who earns a thousand dollars a year by
teaching, and I've heard of many factory-girls who support their
parents, and lay by a great deal of money, by working in the mills."

"Wal!" replied the young woman, with a contemptuous curl of her
matchless upper lip; "schule-marms arn't fine ladi