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Updated: May 9, 2025
"If I could've only laid a foundation of crackers and meat I could've built a very good breakfast out of 'em. I misdoubt, though, whether they've got enough substance and stick-to-the-ribs to make a meal out of all by themselves. However, I'll fill up on 'em, and hope they'll last till a grub-cart gets through. There ought to be one here before noon."
And their bites itch worse than rapid-heal. You could've warned me, you know." "Warn you of insect bites?" Hovan shook his head. "Insect bites are no danger. What warning should I have given?" "Ummm. I guess none, really. You probably wouldn't even notice them, and I didn't have any repellent. But some Ter . . . uh, humans can be killed by bug bites.
"Mother'd done much better, at home in her own kitchen, or anywhere you could've put her, than me with my clumsy ways," he continued, "but she never cooked anything that'll taste better to them boys." A negro cook appeared, with a tin cup in his hand. "Afo' de Lawd, Boss, is hit you dat's cookin' dat chicking? I done smelled hit more'n a miled away, and hab been huntin' foh hit all ober camp.
"It's the dinies," said the president feebly. "They're a great trouble to us, sir. They're our great handicap." "Blather and nonsense!" snapped Sean O'Donohue. "They're no bigger than mice! Ye could've trapped 'em! Ye could've raised cats! Don't tell me that fancy-colored little lizards could hinder a world especially set aside by the intercession of St. Patrick for the Erse people to thrive on!
"There's something peculiar here. If they'd wanted us dead, they could've opened fire as soon as we out-transitioned. Since they didn't, let's see if we can find out just what they do want." "Yes, sir," Willis said. "Hold your fire, Lieutenant, but be ready." "Aye, Captain." Dawes was poised, tense, his fingers hovering almost in contact with his firing studs.
I went down to our Surgeon, but he was too busy to attend to me. I then found the brigade hospital, but the Surgeons there were too busy, too. They gave me a roll of bandages, and told me to fix it up myself. I did it with the help of one of the men who was waiting to have his leg dressed. I fancy I did quite a neat piece of bandaging, as well as the Surgeons themselves could've done it.
She had picked up the sewing, but now it dropped in her lap, and she murmured in a different voice: "But I tell you what I do wish, Mrs. Peters. I wish I had come over sometimes when she was here. I wish I had." "But of course you were awful busy, Mrs. Hale. Your house and your children." "I could've come," retorted Mrs. Hale shortly.
I don't know how I could've ever got this lot through but for your help. Here's your carpet-sack, and here's a haversack o' rations I've put up for you. Take mighty good care of it, for you'll need every cracker. That lot o' tents you see over there, with a yaller flag flyin' over 'em, is a general hospital. Mebbe you'll find your son in there."
We could've jumped from our rail to his in jack-boots, he was that close to us and another fellow the other side. Slid her in like you slide the cover into a diddy box. Yes, sir, and that's the same lad you see coming along now Tom O'Donnell and his Colleen Bawn." He certainly was coming on now, and a fine working vessel he had. She showed it in every move.
"And yet, Miss Bunnair," he said, lowering his voice to a confidential key, "I slept a whole night with one of them big fellers and never turned a hair. I could've killed him the next day, too, but I was so grateful to him I spared his life." This was the regular "come-on" for Lightfoot's snow-storm story, and Creede showed his white teeth scornfully as Bill leaned back and began the yarn.
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