They come fr'm far an' near; an' they were young an'
old, poor lads, some iv thim bent on sthrikin' th' blow that 'd break
th' back iv British tyranny an' some jus' crazed f'r fightin'. They
had big guns an' little guns an' soord canes an' pitchforks an'
scythes, an' wan or two men had come over armed with baseball bats.
They had more gin'rals thin ye cud find in a Raypublican West Town
convintion, an' ivry private was at laste a colonel. They made me
uncle Mike a brigadier gin'ral. 'That 'll do f'r a time,' says he;
'but, whin th' fun begins, I'll pull Dorney off his horse, an' be a
major gin'ral,' he says. An' he'd 've done it, too, on'y they was no
fightin'.
"They marched on, an' th' British run away fr'm thim; an', be hivins,
me uncle Mike cud niver get a shot at a redcoat, though he searched
high an' low f'r wan. Thin a big rain-storm come, an' they was no
tents to protect thim; an' they set aroun', shiverin' an' swearin'. Me
uncle Mike was a bit iv a politician; an' he organized a meetin' iv
th' lads that had come over with him, an' sint a comity to wait on th'
major gin'ral.
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