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Twain, Mark, 1835-1910

"The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories"

We never tried to establish a watch at night
again, as far as I remember, but we generally kept a picket out in the
daytime.
In that camp the whole command slept on the corn in the big corn-crib;
and there was usually a general row before morning, for the place was
full of rats, and they would scramble over the boys' bodies and faces,
annoying and irritating everybody; and now and then they would bite some
one's toe, and the person who owned the toe would start up and magnify
his English and begin to throw corn in the dark. The ears were half as
heavy as bricks, and when they struck they hurt. The persons struck
would respond, and inside of five minutes every man would be locked in a
death-grip with his neighbour. There was a grievous deal of blood shed
in the corn-crib, but this was all that was spilt while I was in the war.
No, that is not quite true. But for one circumstance it would have been
all. I will come to that now.
Our scares were frequent. Every few days rumours would come that the
enemy were approaching.


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