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ONE:"No," he said to the second, "that sick mother racket won't work. Every man we ketch now skulking home is goin' to see his sick and dying mother. There wouldn't be no army if we allowed every man who has a sick mother to go and visit her. None o' your back talk, or I'll put the irons on you."

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  • THREE:

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

  • THREE:"Yes, stay back under cover, Deacon," joined in Shorty. "Let the boys down there 'tend to him. They're gittin' a month for it, and don't want nobody else to interfere in their job." Just then the near wheel mule dropped. "Gi' me that gun at onct," said the Deacon sternly. Shorty handed him the Springfield and its cartridge-box without another word. The Deacon looked over the rifle, "hefted" it, and tried it at his shoulder to get its poise, critically examined its sights by aiming at various objects, and then wiped out its barrel, as he would that of his trusty hunting-rifle at home. All of his old deer-hunting instincts revived. He took out several cartridges, turned them over in his hand, and carefully selected one, tore open the paper, poured the powder in, removed the paper from the ball, and carefully rammed it home, struck the butt of the gun on the ground to make sure of its priming, and put on the cap.

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

  • THREE:Soon, though, they were actually in the great lobby of the building. It, too, was dark and empty. They stood dwarfed by the place, the gigantic doors that led to freedom no more than a few feet away.

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

  • THREE:

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

  • THREE:"John Ross."

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

  • THREE:"Nothing. I'm fine."Only Si and Shorty, in dropping, had kept the lay of the ground in view, and without rising they deliberately aimed their pieces whither the volley had come and fired. A suppressed yell of pain came from the other side.

    One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams

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ONE:The vigilant Orderly-Sergeant was at once on his feet, rousing the other "non-coms" to get the men up.

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    He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections

  • THREE:"Dade I haintnot a smidgeon," answered Hennessey. "We ixpicted ye's to git here this forenoon and relieve us, and we et up ivery spoonful of our grub for breakfast, so's to lighten us for a quick march back to camp. They've not bin runnin' in the mill for several days, and've carted off ivery bit of the male they ground. We're nigh starved oursilves, but we've had a lovely little foight, and we forgive ye's for not coming airlier. Oi wouldn't 've missed that last rush on thim divil's for a month's double rations."

    He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections

  • THREE:

    He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections

  • Corporate Identity

    He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections


ONE:

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FORE:"No, we won't," Si assured him. "You just keep with us and you'll be all right.""Hoopee! Yank her out o' there, boys. Yank h'er out, and don't be all day about it, either. Let me git at her and I'll fetch her out. Stand by, you kids, and see your uncle Eph snatch her."
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FORE:But the smooth, creamy applejack had slipped past his lips so unexpectedly that it possessed him, before principle could raise an objection. Shorty was the kind of a man to whom the first drink is the greatest danger. After he had one almost anything was likely to happen.The off-swing mule dropped this time. "Land's sakes," ejaculated the Deacon, "he's costin' Uncle Sam 0 every time his gun cracks. It's jest sinful to be destroyin' property that way. Shorty, kin you reach me that gun o' Si's out o' the wagon? I believe I'll slip down toward the bank and see if I can't find that feller. I've bin watchin' the willers along the aidge o' the water, and I believe he's in there."
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FORE:Shorty's tone was that this was a calamity to which death was preferable, and the boys were correspondingly impressed. They were rapidly learning the lesson that the regiment and its reputation were the most important things in the whole world.
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FORE:"Preparations have begun," Rogier said. "It's just for that reason that I want to get some idea of what your division"
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FORE:Awful Destruction. 242
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FORE:"Goin' to be a full attendance at the services this evenin'," he muttered to himself. "But the more the merrier. It'll insure a goodly number at the mourner's bench when we make the call for the unconverted.""I'll not go a step under guard, and you can't make me," answered Shorty furiously, snatching up the heavy poker from the stove. "You lunkheaded, feather-bed soldiers jest keep your distance, if you know what's good for you. I didn't come back here from the front to be monkeyed with by a passel o' fellers that wear white gloves and dresscoats, and eat soft bread. Go off, and 'tend your own bizniss, and I'll 'tend to mine."
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ONE:

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ONE:Yet they were safeso far, so far. They walked toward the door now, a step at a time. Each step seemed to take an hour, a full day. Dara walked ahead, straight and tall: Cadnan caught up with her, and she put out her hand. There was no more than an instant of hesitation. He took the hand."I have often found," Dr. Haenlingen said, "that sorrow following an action is worse than useless. It usually implies a request to commit the same action again."

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  • TWO:"Say, Sergeant, I hain't got but 10 cartridges. Will that be enough?"
  • Art-Director

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  • TWO:"I know these sounds," she said. "I talk to others in our room, and some of these work outside. They tell me of these sounds and this place: it is called a jungle."
  • Art-Director

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  • TWO:"Don't sound right, though," said Monty regretfully. "And such a shack as that don't look like the wigwam of a great chief. 'Tain't any different from the hired men's houses on the farms in Injianny.""Jerusalem crickets," he exclaimed, wiping his mouth, "but that's good stuff. Wonder if bein' in cedar makes it taste so bang-up? If I though so I'd never drink out o' anything but cedar as long's I lived. Guess I'll keep this canteen to carry water in. I kin send Maria"
  • Art-Director

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ONE:The chill air of the evening began to revive Si and Shorty. Si's brain responded long before any of his muscles. At first it seemed the vaguest and most shadowy of dreams. There was a dim consciousness of lying somewhere. Where it was, how he came there, what was going on around he had not the slightest idea nor desire to know. There was just the feeling of being there, without any sensation of comfort or discomfort, wish or longing.In spite of his prepossessions against it, Shorty took naturally to Headquarters duty, as he did to everything else in the army. He even took a pride in his personal appearance, and appeared every morning as spick and span as the barber-shop around the corner could make him. This was because the General saw and approved it, andbecause of the influence Maria had projected into his life. The Deacon's well-ordered home had been a revelation to him of another world, of which he wanted to be a part. The gentle quiet and the constant consideration for others that reigned there smoothed off his rough corners and checked the rasping of his ready tongue.

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ONE:"I left it in my quarters."

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections

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A heavily-built, middle-aged man, whose coarse face had evidently been closely shaved a few days before, entered, carrying a large carpet-sack, which was well-filled and seemingly quite heavy. He set this carefully down on the seat, in the corner, walked up to the stove, warmed his hands, glanced sharply at Shorty, said "Good morning," to which Shorty replied with a snore, took a plug of tobacco from his pocket, from which he cut a liberal chew with a long dirk that he opened by giving a skillful flip with his wrist, put the chew in his mouth, released the spring which held the blade in place, put both knife and tobacco in his pocket, and turning around spread the tails of his seedy black frock coat, and seemed lost in meditation as he warmed."Neither. Keep perfectly quiet, and 'tend strictly to your little business."As the first hints of the truth about Fruyling's World emerge, the tension becomes unbearableto be resolved only in the shattering climax of this fast-paced, thought-provoking story of one of today's most original young writers."Wait a little," cautioned the Lieutenant. "We'll get more of them if you do. Now, let them have it. Ready Aim FIRE!""Hoss's hoofs and breakin' limbs, sure's you're a foot high," whispered Harry. "And they're comin' down the hill this way."As Shorty ran around the corner he came face-to-face with a stalwart Irishman, one of the pluckiest of the squad brought from Jeffersonville. His face was drawn and white with fright, and he fumbled at his beads.
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