“‘How are you?’ said he to me. ‘You’re one of Captain Hardie’s men, ain’t you? I’m Captain——.’
“‘Glad to know you, captain,’ said I. ‘I’ve read about you in the papers.’”
This was considered a magnificent stroke by the men, who thought the captain in question rather too fond of sending in reports concerning himself to headquarters.
“‘Well,’ says he, ‘when do you think we’re going to catch this —— —— —— —— Garza? As for me,’ says he, ‘I’m that —— —— —— —— tired of the whole —— —— —— business that I’m willing to give up my job to any —— —— —— fool that will take it——’
“‘Well, old man,’ says I, ‘I’d be glad to relieve you,’ says I, ‘but I’d a —— sight rather serve under Captain Hardie than captain such a lot of regular —— —— —— coffee-coolers as you’ve got under you.’”
The audacity of this entirely fictitious conversation was what recommended it to the men. I only reproduce it here as showing their idea of humor. An even greater success was that of a stolid German, who related a true incident of life at Fort Clarke, where the men were singing one night around the fire, when the colonel passed by, and ordered them into the tents, and to stop that —— noise.
CAPTAIN FRANCIS H. HARDIE, G TROOP, THIRD UNITED STATES CAVALRY
“And den,” continued the soldier, “he come acrost Cabding——, sitting in front of his tent, and he says to him quick like that, ‘You ged into your tent, too.’ That’s what he said to him, ‘You ged into your tent, too.’”
It is impossible to imagine the exquisite delight that this simple narrative gave. The idea of a real troop commander having been told to get into his tent just like a common soldier brought the tears to the men’s eyes, and the success of his story so turned the German’s head that he continued repeating to himself and to any one he met for several days: “That’s what he said, ‘You ged into your tent, TOO.’ That’s what he said.”