“Well, no-o, sir,” admitted Major Larry. “P’raps dat aint jus’ w’at he said, but it’s w’at he was gettin’ at, anyhow. He ’xplained to ’em dat if ’twas truly fightin’, ’stead o’ bein’ de imitation, he’d keep ’em all under his t’umb, an’ not let ’em give no exhibition of a lead shower-bat’, by squirtin’ bullets all over de lan’scape at deir own sweet conveniences. In odder words, he give ’em to understan’ dat, w’en it come to firin’ by comp’ny, w’at he said went!”
“Perfectly proper,” said the colonel, who is a thorough believer in the virtues of controlled fire. “Perfectly proper. I noticed that Stearns handled his practice very well when he was at the bridge.”
“We done t’ree or four volleys,” continued Larry, “but it was sort o’ discouragin’ bizness, ’cause we didn’t seem to see no corpses carted off, an’ all we could do didn’t seem like it was hurtin’ de enermy’s feelin’s much. So w’en dey kep’ gettin’ closer an’ closer, we seen dat dey was boun’ to waltz over de bridge, spite of us, an’ de cap’n come to de conclusion dat he’d done all dat a brave man could to stan’ ’em off. W’ich bein’ so, he marched de comp’ny off an’ fell back down de road, leavin’ de premises clear for de t’ree comp’nies on de hills to show w’at dey was good for.
“Well, we was marched down de road, an’ formed up in line among de trees, where it was cool an’ shady. An’ den we got de chance to see sights. De attackin’ battalions come swarmin’ over dat bridge like a big mob o’ de unemployed, an’ begun to push forward for de hills, an’ de rifles started goin’ poppety-poppety-pop! An’ dere we was sittin’ like an audyence in de gallery, takin’ in de whole show for nuttin’. But we wasn’t quite out of it, for all of a sudd’n de cap’n says, ‘Here’s w’ere we wipes out dat fool flank comp’ny!’ An’ wid dat he has us plug a volley square into ’em.
“Now, dat was like yellin’ ‘Rats!’ in t’rough de door of a Chinee laundry! O’ course dey wasn’t nobody killed by dat volley, ’cause de odder fellies was too far off to be hit by de wads. But de effec’ was queer, an’ youse c’n bet y’r sweet natyral dat was de size of it!
“K was de comp’ny dat happened to be on dat flank, an’ w’en we plunked dat volley at ’em dey seemed like dey was excited. I guess dey t’ought we was gettin’ too funny wid ’m, for dey swung back so’s to be facin’ our way, an’ den begun poppin’ at us for all dey was wort’.
“But dat never fazed us, ’cause we knew dat deir rifles didn’t have no slugs in ’em, an’ dat we was pretty well out o’ sight amongst de trees. An’ besides all dat, we also was aware dat de fellies in K couldn’t shoot well enough to hit a mountain if ’twas pushed up to ’em on rollers. Huh! most o’ de men in K handles deir rifles like dey was crowbars, an’ a flock of elerphants flyin’ low c’d sail over deir heads widout no occasion for worryin’!” This was taking a mean advantage. Larry had a personal grievance against K Company, and sought revenge by improving the opportunity to slander that command in his report.
“Now, after t’ings had be’n goin’ on in dis way for a little w’ile,” continued Larry, “I seen a chance to tally one for our side. W’at I mean is dis—Say, d’youse know Hickey, dat big, fat-headed corp’ral in K?”
The colonel was compelled to disclaim the acquaintance of any such person. The adjutant, however, whose knowledge of the regimental personnel was necessarily more extended, came to time promptly with an affirmative nod.
“Well, he’s a dam’ chump!” said Larry, with emphasis. “Oh, ’xcuse me!” he hastily added, as it dawned upon him that his language had been a trifle unparliamentary; “I didn’t mean to say jus’ dat. But he’s a reg’lar galvanized gazaboo, an’ nuttin’ else. See? Him an’ his gang had fun wid me, one night last camp, tossin’ me in a blanket, an’ I’ve be’n layin’ low for’m ever since dat. I’m like an Injun—‘I never forgets de face of a foe!’” This evidently was a quotation from some modern master-piece of literature, and Larry delivered it most impressively.