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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Here, you fellers," he said angrily, "why don't ye git up an' saloot? Don't ye know your business yit?" "What business, Jake?" asked Kent Edwards, absently, paying most attention to a toad which had hopped out form the cover of a budock leaf, in search of insects for his supper. Alspaugh's face grew blacker. "The business of paying proper respect to your officers."
She strove to release her fingers quietly, but at this Alspaugh's paroxysm became intense. He clung the tighter to her, and kneaded her fingers in a way that was almost maddening. Never in all her life had a man presumed to take such a familiarity with her. But her woman's wit did not desert her.
His feelings were continually lacerated by contact with volunteers, who cared next to nothing for the FORM of war-making, but everything for its spirit, and the martinet heart within him was bruised and sore when he came upon the ground to inspect the regiment. Alspaugh's blundering in bringing the company into line awakened this ire from a passivity to activity.
It was the very poetry of soldiering, and Harry began to forget the miseries of life in a Camp of Instruction, and to believe that there was much to be enjoyed, even in the life of an enlisted man. "This here air or the apple-jack seems to have a wonderfully improving effect on Jake Alspaugh's chronic rheumatics," sneered Abe Bolton. It was a sunny afternoon.
The Provost Marshal stooped and took the handkerchief off, to find that not even the cloth of the pantaloons had been injured. He contemptuously tore the straps from Alspaugh's shoulders, and left him. "The rascal's cowardice is like the mercy of God," said Denslow, "for it endureth forever." He put Rachel in the wagon, and ordered the driver to start at once for Nashville with her.
"Yes, but the mountain sometimes has an opportunity to drop an avalanche on 'em." At this point of the discussion they arrived at the company grounds, and had scarcely time to snatch up their guns and don their belts before the company moved out to take its place in the regimental line. The occasion of Lieutenant Alspaugh's elaborate personal ornamentation now manifested itself.
Alspaugh's triumphal march had now brought him within a few feet of them, but they continued to lounge indifferently on the musket box upon which they had been sitting, giving a mere nod as recognition of his presence, and showing no intention of rising to salute. The glow of satisfaction faded from Alspaugh's horizon, and a cloud overcast it.
Alspaugh's assurance rose buoyantly the moment that the pressure was removed. He raised his eyes from the ground, and looked for the young ladies. They had turned their backs and were leaving the ground. He hastened after them, fabricating as he walked an explanation, based on personal jealousy, of the Inspector's treatment of him.
Alspaugh's torso began to take a fair hold of its appointed work that gentlemen's thoughts became strangely focused upon it, and they succeeded each other as the minutes went by something in this fashion: FIRST TEN MINUTES. "I 'spect that this may become rather unpleasant and bothersome, but it will not be for long, and it'll really do me much good."
The unexpected volley probably disturbed private Jacob Alspaugh's mind more than that of any other man in the regiment. It produced there an effect akin to the sensation of nauseous emetic in his stomach.
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