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I remember while such a practice was under way, and we were on our bellies back from the breastworks some three rods, so that we might not be hurt by the top log if it should be hit by a ball or shell, a large solid shot came hurtling over, just above the top of our works, and plunged into the ground close to the feet of a sandy-haired Irishman by the name of Flarity.
I think I was looking that way at the moment. Flarity felt the sweep of the wind as the shot went over him; he raised up sufficiently to see where it had gone into the ground, and said, "Whist, ye divil! was yee's intinded for me?" Those who saw the effect of the shot and heard Flarity had a loud smile. We were not attacked on Monday, though during the day Lieut-Col.
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