No matches found Ʊע_׬ӮǮV3.61app

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    Software name: appdown
    Software type: Microsoft Framwork

    size: 947MB

    Lanuage:Englist

    Software instructions

      "Can I get you anything, Miss?" the girl asked in a purring tone.A bullet from one of the other fellows made the splinters fly from a rail a foot or two from Si's head; but he was getting excited now, and he didn't mind it any more than if it had been a paper wad from a pea-shooter.


      He leveled his gun at the unhappy man and took a deliberate sight.


      "What does who say?" replied Si, getting red in the face, and bristling up and trying to assume an air of indifference. 'Till the storm of life is past;

      "Git some commissary and pour into them gunboats!"

      "You made me a little sore, too. You were so bossy!""Yes, General," continued Mr. Klegg, "I knowed you'd know all about him the minit I mentioned him to you. I told this over and over agin to these plaguey fools, but they wouldn't believe me. As to that carpetsack havin' things for the enemy, it's the biggest lie that ever was told. I'll open it right here before you to show you. I've only got some things that my wife and the girls was sendin to Si."


      IN COMMON with every other young man who enlisted to defend the glorious Stars and Stripes, Si Klegg, of the 200th Ind., had a profound superstition concerning the bayonet. All the war literature he had ever read abounded in bloodcurdling descriptions of bayonet charges and hand-to-hand conflicts, in which bayonets were repeatedly thrust up to the shanks in the combatants' bodies just as he had put a pitch-fork into a bundle of hay. He had seen pictures of English regiments bristling with bayonets like a porcupine with quills, rushing toward French regiments which looked as prickly as a chestnut-bur, and in his ignorance he supposed that was the way fighting was done. Occasionally he would have qualms at the thought of how little his system was suited to have cold steel thrust through it promiscuous-like, but he comforted himself with the supposition that he would probably get used to it in time"soldiers get used to almost anything, you know."

      "You don't chaw terbaker. You jest eat it," remonstrated the long-suffering Mr. Klegg."The battery's out there yit, Si," said Shorty, as they gathered themselves up and carefully stamped out every spark of fire.

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      "Brave, pious union soldier," he repeated to himself, with a whistle. "Jewhilikins, I'm glad Bad Ax, Wis., is so fur away that she never heard me makin' remarks when a mule-team's stalled. But I must git a brace on myself, and clean up my langwidge for inspection-day."

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