human
If we fight at Stanwix, says Penelope,
gpt
God send the business end as gaily as your broadside, Nick!
human
What did I tell you of the Scotch girl of Caughnawaga, who hath a way with her which is the undoing of all innocent young men?
gpt
Idiot! said I fiercely,
human
I am not undone in such a manner!
gpt
Farewell, comrades, he cried, snatching sack and musket from the corner.
human
If I can not fife the red-coats into hell to the Rogue's March, or my brother John drum them there to the Devil's tattoo, then my daddy shall persuade 'em thither with musket-music! Three stout Stoners and three lanky Livingstons, and all in the same regiment! Hurrah!