"A braver,
better girl doesn't breathe in the colonies, and the man that says
a slurring word against her's got to fight me."
"What! Has she given Zeke the mitten for your sake, Zeb?" piped
little Hiram Woodbridge.
"She hasn't given me anything, and I've got no claim; but she is
the kind of girl that every fellow from Opinquake should stand up
for. We all know that there is nothing chicken-hearted about her."
"Eight, by George--George W., I mean, and not the king," responded
Hiram Woodbridge. "Here's to her health, Zeb, and your success! I
believe she'd rather marry a soldier than a cook."
"Thank you," said Zeb. "You stand as good a chance as I do; but
don't let's bandy her name about in camp any more'n we would our
mother's. The thing for us to do now is to show that the men from
Connecticut have as much backbone as any other fellows in the
army, North or South. Zeke may laugh at Old Put's digging, but
you'll soon find that he'll pick his way to a point where he can
give the Britishers a dig under the fifth rib. We've got the best
general in the army.
Pages:
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447