'Slathers iv it,' says th' cap. 'Onless,' he says, 'th' sojers et it,'
he says. 'Th' las' load iv beef that come down fr'm th' undhertakers,'
he says, 'was not good,' he says. 'Ayether,' he says, ''twas
improperly waked,' he says, 'or,' he says, 'th' pall-bearers was
careless,' he says. 'Annyhow,' he says, 'th' sojers won't eat it; an',
whin I left, they was lookin' greedily at th' hay,' he says. 'Cap,'
says Gin'ral Shafter, 'if anny man ates a wisp, shoot him on th'
spot,' he says. 'Those hungry sojers may desthroy me hopes iv
victhry,' he says. 'What d'ye mane?' says Cap Brice. 'I mane this,'
says Gin'ral Shafter. 'I mane to take yon fortress,' he says. 'I'll
sind ye in, Cap,' he says, 'in a ship protected be hay,' he says. 'Her
turrets 'll be alfalfa, she'll have three inches iv solid timithy to
th' water line, an' wan inch iv th' best clover below th' wather
line,' he says. 'Did ye iver see an eight-inch shell pinithrate a bale
iv hay?' he says. 'I niver did,' says Cap Brice. 'Maybe that was
because I niver see it thried,' he says. 'Be that as it may,' says
Gin'ral Shafter, 'ye niver see it done.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184