"That's the talk!" says the Adjutant's second.
"Measure off thirty paces," the Lieutenant's second responds.
"No, ten!" cry the principals.
"Twenty paces or no fight!" insists the Adjutant's second. "Twenty paces; one, two, three——"
And the seconds trod off as best they could the distance, the pieces were loaded, the several bipeds took a drink all around from an ample jug of the R. G. they brought for the purpose, and then began the memorable duel. The principals were placed in their respective positions, to rake down each other; and from a safer point of the compass the seconds gave the word.
"Bang-g-g!" went the Adjutant's piece, knocking him down flat as a hoe-cake.
"F-f-f-izzy!" and the Lieutenant's piece hung fire.
The seconds flew to their men; a parley took place upon a "question" whether the Lieutenant had a right to prime and fire again, or not. The Adjutant being set upon his pins; declared himself ready and willing to let the Lieutenant blaze away! The point was finally settled by loading up the Adjutant's piece, and priming that of the Lieutenant, placing the men, and giving the word,
"One, two, three!"
"Wang-g-g-g!"