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"Yah, ve vill fighd lige eferyting," declared Fritz Schmockenburg. "Ve are nod avraid uf der retgoads, und dot is so." "How soon will the battle take place, Dick?" queried Ben Foster. Dick shook his head. "As to that I cannot say, Ben," he replied. "But it will come soon enough, without doubt, for the British have twenty-five thousand soldiers, while we have not more than eighteen thousand."
"Don'd fighd 'im, nod here. It's no good. Go to the pladform an' say your say. We'll hear you." But it was impossible to hear any one now. Uproar broke loose. Men shouted, stormed, cursed; the meeting was become a rabble.
We got to put some picket way oudt bei der Lower Roadt alzoh, und he tek dose glassus Mist'r Ennixt'r got bei um. Say, look at dose irregation ditsch. Dot ditsch he run righd across BOTH dose road, hey? Dat's some fine entrenchment, you bedt. We fighd um from dose ditsch."
When you haven' the sense enough to take care of yourself!" "Ah, shame!" ventured the sweetheart. "He's the lover of his blidding country, going ag-ain to fighd for her and uz whiles he can! to-day! al-lone! now!" Her fingers clutched his wrists, that still held her shoulders, and all her veins surged in the rapture of his grasp. But Charlie stared at his sister.
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