The best tale I ever heard regarding census takers was told to me by my husband, born and reared in a rural mountain area. His mother was visiting neighbors when the census taker came by. Census taker was a young literate fellow but the family he was enumerating was most definitely anything but! Through the ranks of the kids he went, asking their names and ages of the ...ah... woman of the house. Kept shaking his head in befuddlement at each reply. Got to one toddler and asked when that one was born. Her reply? "Tater diggin' time da yar da barn burntd."
True story, I promise, although I can't come close to those rural mountain, near-Elizabeathan speach patterns in writing. Or even speach. My Mother-in-law to this day speaks the broadest illiterate sounding Appalachia I ever encountered. And I can only reproduce parts of it after being in her presence for a couple of days. Which I've done my best to avoid like the plague for over 40 years!