Each man does his work as if
fighting by the job; and then, they think while they fight, and don't
send bullets to the clouds, that were meant to kill men on earth."
"You talk and look, sir, as if you wished them success," said Henry,
sternly.
"I wish success to the good cause only, Captain Wharton. I thought you
knew me too well, to be uncertain which party I favored."
"Oh! you are reputed loyal, Mr. Birch. But the volleys have ceased!"
Both now listened intently for a little while, during which the
irregular reports became less brisk, and suddenly heavy and repeated
volleys followed.
"They've been at the bayonet," said the peddler; "the rig'lars have
tried the bayonet, and the rebels are driven."
"Aye, Mr. Birch, the bayonet is the thing for the British soldier, after
all. They delight in the bayonet!"
"Well, to my notion," said the peddler, "there's but little delight to
be taken in any such fearful weapon. I dare say the militia are of my
mind, for half of them don't carry the ugly things. Lord! Lord! captain,
I wish you'd go with me once into the rebel camp, and hear what lies the
men will tell about Bunker Hill and Burg'yne; you'd think they loved the
bayonet as much as they do their dinners."
There was a chuckle, and an air of affected innocency about his
companion, that rather annoyed Henry, and he did not deign to reply.
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