“Not if I know myself,” he replied. “Get me a cup of coffee and I’ll be all right; I won’t be buried by that country clodhopper.”
The “clodhopper” referred to was the sergeant in charge of the squad, who belonged to a company of our regiment that came from the central part of the state, while the man who had been so near the “dark valley” was a member of a New York City company.
TO ARMS AGAIN.
At 8 o’clock sharp the white flags were furled, and the buglers from either side sounded the “recall.” The men returned to their commands, the swords were unsheathed, the muskets reloaded, the cannon unmuzzled and hostilities were resumed—such is war.
“Hark! the musketry roars, and the rifles reply:
Oh, the fight will be close and the carnage be dread;
To the ranks let us hie—
We have buried our dead.”
CHAPTER XI.
HANCOCK AND HIS MEN.
General Hancock possessed to a remarkable degree the power of exciting to enthusiasm the men he so often led to victory. And even a drummer boy may be pardoned the pride he feels in the enduring fame of this intrepid commander.