Every few minutes a great downpour of bucketfuls would come; and, worse still, every now and then the enemy would rush forward in the darkness and come upon us at pistol-shot range without notice.
It was Ulysses S. Grant we were fighting, and that was the line on which he was going to “fight it out, if it took all summer.”
We felt the need of entertainment, so somebody called out to a sergeant: “Tell us a story.”
“No, no,” said Johnny Garrett, “let Griffith tell a story, for he never finishes, and this is a long night.”
The suggestion was applauded and insisted upon. Whether Griffith blushed or not, it was much too dark to see; but after a little chaffing he consented to tell the story. Just as he began Billy Goodwin, who always wanted to gamble on everything, offered to bet three to one that he would never finish.
“Shut up, Goodwin,” said Johnny Garrett, “and let him begin, anyhow. If he don’t get through by the middle of the night, I’ll negotiate the bet with you.”
Thereupon Griffith began.
“Well, ’taint much of a story—only a bear story.”
“Bet two to one he never gets to the bear,” said the incorrigible Goodwin.
“Be quiet, will you?” cried some one at the right of the company. The man next to him mistook this adjuration for a command sent down the line; so, to the astonishment of everybody to the left of us, the word was passed from mouth to mouth: “Be quiet, will you! Be quiet, will you! Be quiet, will you!”