"Go a'ead, Habe," growled Wat, after a moment's thought. "We can't 'elp you, but we'll stay wi' you. Hif she busts, she busts, hand that's hall there'll be hof hit hor hof us. We'll stick by the wagon, though, till she busts, hand then nobuddy but the crows 'll hever find hany hof hus. Go a'ead, you bloody brat."
"Should think they was bride and groom, if they wasn't so old.""Here, you, stop that trotting. What do you mean? Don't you know that it's strictly against orders to trot horses in their present condition?""Oi know what Oi'm goin' to do," said Hennessey. "Oi'm goin to show the foinest pace av shprinting back to camp that has been sane in these parts since our roight bruk that day at Chickamaugy. No grass'll grow under me fate, Oi tell yez. And as I pass through your camp Oi'll foind yer Captain, and tell the fix you're in, and to sind out some rations.""I'm goin' to trust you," said the Deacon, stirring up the savory mess, ladling out a generous cupful, adding a drumstick, and covering the cup with a piece of paper. "Now, carry it carefully. Every drop's worth its weight in gold."
FORE:"We're goin' to strike for our altars and our fires. Strike for the green graves of our sires. God and our native land," declaimed Monty Scruggs.