POLLY
(continuing)
Cemetery Hill,
Little Round Top, Death Valley, and this here
is Cemetery Ridge.
LINK
(pointing to the little flag)
And colors flyin'!
We kep 'em flyin' thar, too, all three days,
From start to finish.
POLLY
Have I learned 'em right?
LINK
A number One, chick! Wait a mite: Culp's Hill:
I don't jest spy Culp's Hill.
POLLY
There wa'n't enough
kindlin's to spare for that. It ought to lay
east there, towards the kitchen.
LINK
Let it go!
That's whar us Yanks left our back door ajar
and Johnson stuck his foot in: kep' it thar,
too, till he got it squoze off by old Slocum.
Let Culp's Hill lay for now.—Lend me your marker.
(POLLY hands him the hoe. From his chair, he reaches
with it and digs in the chips.)
Death Valley needs some scoopin' deeper. So:
smooth off them chips.
(POLLY does so with her foot.)
You better guess't was deep
As hell, that second day, come sundown.—Here,
(He hands back the hoe to her.)
flat down the Wheatfield yonder.