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Updated: May 19, 2025
"I was afraid I'd never make him understand, but I did. And you should have seen him bully that other man into driving the jeep. Are you all right, Popsy?" "Is yo' all right, Cunnel?" Sergeant Williamson was asking. "My leg's broken, I think, but outside of that I'm all right," he answered both of them. "How did you happen to find me, Sergeant?" The old Negro soldier rolled his eyes upward.
"Cunnel, hit war a mi'acle of de blessed Lawd!" he replied, solemnly. "An angel of de Lawd done appeahed unto me." He shook his head slowly. "Ah's a sinful man, Cunnel; Ah couldn't see de angel face to face, but de glory of de angel was befoh me, an' guided me."
"Let's get away from here," I suggested. He fished out a coin, showed it to me, waved his arm in the air and opened an empty palm for my inspection. "Ah sho would like to, cunnel, but Ahve got to covah thisyeah sto'y even if it's out of this mizzble wo'ld." "I'm sure I can give you details to bring it down to earth," I told him. "Make it a story your editor will be glad to have."
Lapse of time had never dulled his keen resentment of the blow the man had struck him; now it was with keen delight that he stepped out of the shadow just outside the window, with a carelessly held pistol in his hand, which somehow appeared to cover Holton. "De Cunnel said you'd please stay heah, suh," he said placidly; but the pistol gave his words an emphasis which could not be mistaken.
"Ouah Cunnel," explained the Sergeant, "wuz afeared you'ns 'd try to flank us through the thicket, and sent me down to make a rumpus and hold you back while he fit you in front. But whar's your company?" "We'll come to it soon," said Si. SI CALLED out to the other boys by name to come up and join him. The rebel Sergeant mentally tallied off each name as it was called.
She put on a little prouder air, if possible, and added impressively: "Does you 'member Cunnel Cecil Burleigh Essex, dat died de same year yo' young Marse Tom Driscoll's pappy died, en all de Masons en Odd Fellers en Churches turned out en give him de bigges' funeral dis town ever seed? Dat's de man."
"Trust me to do it tactfully," Bob whispered. "I'm not out to get shot." And turning to the porch he called: "Dale, like to ride over and meet my family? You might get a word with Miss Jane about the school, too!" There was no reply to this except a quick step toward the old white mare. "Will hit be all right ter leave my rifle hyar, Cunnel?" he asked, with one foot in the stirrup.
Tell Cunnel Logan what you h'ar; and add, that before he can draw girth, I shall be, with every fighting-man in my fort, on the north side of Kentucky. Ride, you brute, ride for your life; and do you take car' you come along with the Cunnel; for it's time you war trying your hand at an Injun top-knot. Ride, you brute, ride!"
But it was very difficult at first to make them desist: the taste of gunpowder was too intoxicating. One of them was heard to mutter, indignantly, "Why de Cunnel order Cease firing, when de Secesh blazin' away at de rate ob ten dollar a day?" Every incidental occurrence seemed somehow to engrave itself upon my perceptions, without interrupting the main course of thought.
Busby was gwine tu de Lake, an' wen he got rite here he ceed on de side ob de cunnel a big snake trien tu swallow a raccoon. He tuk up sumfin' to flro at de snake, an' jes' den he ceed in de bushes a nale keg, an' wus glad dat he had foun' a keg ob nales. But wen he got dar it was a watermillion." "How do you suppose that melon came to grow there?" I asked.
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