human
The fust thing to be did, exclaimed he, drawing his sword, and swinging it three times around his head, as a kind of three cheers, and scaring his dogs by this frightful flourish, repeated before their eyes, and who had not forgotten the accident of the morning--
gpt
To turn a _what_?
human
To turn a circle, repeated the captain,
gpt
T-h-u-n-d-e-r!!
human
No talking in the ranks--'tis finable--and 'twon't be permitted. We're under martial law, and that's _very sum_'ry, Mr. Turtle, very _sum_'ry! And to turn a circle, continued the Squire,
gpt
For-_erd_, men! Turtle ran--the man behind him ran--and all ran, helter-skelter, some whooping, some groaning, and in their sweep they took in a score of ragged boys, and hurled them upon Aunt Sonora and Mrs. Longbow, who keeled over backwards in their chairs, their petticoats fluttering, in their somerset, in the face of the whole company. The Squire, forgetting his own position, when he saw the position of his second wife, hastened to her rescue, set her up, and pointed with his sword to the road, and she and Aunt Sonora pushed desperately for the fence, their hair streaming behind them, bellowing
human
Murder! while the company brought up in the shape of a pot-hook, having about half described the circle,--Beagle, the
gpt
crying to them to
human
H-ll!
gpt
That's swearin', said Ike from the ranks,
human
He didn't swear as a justis', he swore as a captin', and captins allers swore on the field-er action--but he'd take that 'ere oath back.--What do you s'pose the Hos Guards would think of such a revolution as that 'ere, --continued the Squire, looking at the huddle before him,
gpt
Now, said the Squire,
human
said the captain,
gpt
The column moved forward solemnly, in a line like a scythe snath, and, reaching the corner, began to waver. Beagle at last fell headlong over the stake, and the whole company brought up in a pile around him; whereupon the Squire threw his sword on the ground, and declared,
human
gpt
Stumbled! roared the Squire.
human
You stumbled!--who ever heard of the Hos Guards stumblin'! Stumbled? by the great Bonyparte--that ain't swearin', Mr. Turtle--you'd be hung by the neck, sir, if you stumbled on the field-er battle--it's a hangin' offence, sir--a hangin' offence, sir. We are under martial law, sir, to-day, sir, and if it was war time, sir, I'd order you to be stretch'd, sir, in five minutes, sir, from that 'ere tree, sir--I'd show you war, sir--real war, sir! bloody war, sir!