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Updated: May 10, 2025
"I suppose that's why you followed Annie Bragin till everybody in the married quarters laughed at you," said I, remembering that unhallowed wooing and casting off the disguise of drowsiness. "I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av the attack," said Mulvaney, driving his boot into the dying fire.
"Who should lib dere but Gin'ral Littlepage?" "Vell, I dought he wast dead, long ago." "What if he be? It's his house, and he lib in it; and ole young missus lib dere too." Now, there had been three generations of generals among the Littlepages, counting from father to son.
Bein' a busy an' fashn'able woman she cudden't raymimber his name. At times she called him 'Frank' an' thin 'Fronzwah' an' 'Fritz' an' 'Ferdynand' 'twas a name beginnin' with 'f' she knew that but he f'rgive her an' ast somewan to r-read to him. 'What shall it be? says a gin'ral. 'R-read about th' time I was christened, says th' boy.
He of the black hair smiled again as his mate, mimicking Tim's gruff voice, quoted: "'Gin'ral Order Number Thirteen: In case o' doubt, bust the other guy quick." Past the loungers in the street, past others in the doorways, past children and dogs and goats, the pair marched briskly to the faded blue house whence the federal superintendent ruled the town with tropic indolence.
Swear Gin'ral Billot, Gin'ral Boisdeffer, Gin'ral Chammy, an' th' former mimbers iv th' governmint. "'I object to thim bein' sworn, says Matther Blamange. "'They must be sworn, says th' prisident. 'How th' divvle can they perjure thimsilves if they ain't sworn? An' who ar-re ye, annyhow? "'I'm th' counsel f'r th' pris'ner, says Matther Blamange. 'Get out ye'ersilf, says Matther Blamange.
'Cap, says Gin'ral Shafter, 'if anny man ates a wisp, shoot him on th' spot, he says. 'Those hungry sojers may desthroy me hopes iv victhry, he says. 'What d'ye mane? says Cap Brice. 'I mane this, says Gin'ral Shafter. 'I mane to take yon fortress, he says. 'I'll sind ye in, Cap, he says, 'in a ship protected be hay, he says.
'Her turrets 'll be alfalfa, she'll have three inches iv solid timithy to th' water line, an' wan inch iv th' best clover below th' wather line, he says. 'Did ye iver see an eight-inch shell pinithrate a bale iv hay? he says. 'I niver did, says Cap Brice. 'Maybe that was because I niver see it thried, he says. 'Be that as it may, says Gin'ral Shafter, 'ye niver see it done.
Moses was there to assist him with his long blue mantle; the boy clung to his gloved hand a moment, then stepped back into the doorway, where the old servant shuffled about, muttering half aloud: "Yaas, suh. Done tole you so. He bow lak de quality, he drink lak de Garnetts what I tole yo'? Mars Will'm, ef dat ossifer ain' er gin'ral, he gwine be mighty quick!"
Garshy took his gallant band iv six back to th' woods; an' there th' three iv thim ar-re now, ar-rmed with forty r-rounds iv canned lobster, an' ready to raysist to th' death. Him an' th' other man has written to Gin'ral Shafter to tell him what they think iv him, an' it don't take long." "Well," said Mr. Hennessy, "I think Shafter done wrong.
I am so. "But th' first Napolyon was a diff'rent man, an' whin he died he left a son that th' coorts tur-rned over to th' custody iv his mother, th' ol' man bein' on th' island th' same place where Gin'ral Crownjoy is now. Tis about this la-ad th' play's written.
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