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And his friend spread out the contents of his larder again, and then leaned over the table and said, "Come and try it once and see how you like it!" And Samuel clenched his hands suddenly and answered "All right, I'll try it!" Then he started upon a meal. But in the middle of it he stopped, and set down an untasted cracker, and gasped within himself "Merciful Heaven!
I breakfasted on a cracker and a spoonful of whisky. I gave my horse a handful of corn and a large quantity of leaves. The former he ate, but the latter he refused to touch. The column began to move, and I was ready to attend upon its fortunes."
It at least gave him the name of the proprietor. Store, and Office of Woodyard. Kim. Stallings, Prop. A gawky clerk, undoubtedly of the "cracker" persuasion, was waiting on several dusky customers, and vainly endeavoring to keep them in a clump, as if he feared to let the bunch scatter, lest certain unprotected articles vanish with their departure.
He grew his own tobacco, tea, peanuts, oranges, figs, pineapples, bananas; he fattened his cattle and hogs on his own cassava and the abundant wild grasses; his flocks of sheep "cut their own fodder," and the wool and mutton was all clear profit. This "Cracker" family was the happiest and most independent I ever saw on earth.
The ward-master returned presently, threading his way through a mass of parked ambulances to the shed where Berkley sat on a broken cracker box. "Colonel Arran is very low. I guess you'd better not bother him to-night." "Is he mortally hurt?" "I've seen worse." "He may get well?" "I've seen 'em get well," said the non-committal ward-master.
"Oh, but if I use that funny, greasy paper which comes inside cracker boxes the kind with wax on it that wouldn't wet through," spoke the rabbit as he went inside the goat-house with the children, for Mrs. Goat had called them in to breakfast. "That would be just fine!" exclaimed Nannie, as she passed some apple sauce and oatmeal to Uncle Wiggily.
They were already busy throwing the last articles out of the wagon, settling in. Barefoot, cold, hungry, until the last few minutes, they were Forrest's indomitable rear guard, riding between brisk spats with the enemy. Kirby tested the edge of a cracker between his teeth as they trotted on in search for another wagon to turn over to the infantry.
At this the company, which had gathered at the door of the chateau to see the fun, ran to her assistance, in order to have the pleasure of enjoying the scene more fully. Thereupon she set to abusing everybody right and left, commencing with Monseigneur and Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne. At another time M. de Bourgogne put a cracker under her chair in the salon, where she was playing at piquet.
The knot of the cracker must have caught the Indian in an eye, for he lost his bow, clapped both hands to his face and scurried away, howling. "Good shot! Hi! Yip! Betty! Joe! Gwan with you!" The Indians behind were yelling louder. "What's the matter, Cap?" "They're coming again like Sam Hill!" "All right. Guess we'll make it. Hi! Yip!" And "Whack! Whack!" Yes, the Indians were coming.
There were a few shanties along the narrow outlet on the main shore, where some settlers, beguiled to this desolate region by the sentimental idea of pioneer life in a fine climate, known as "FLORIDA FEVER," were starving on a fish diet, which, in the cracker dialect, was "powerful handy," and bravely resisting the attacks of insects, the bane of life in Florida.
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