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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

"
"A wise plan that. The Injins would soon set fire to it,
and if they didn't burn us out, they would soon smoke us
out. Either would suit their purpose."
"Let him stuff it with his head, corporal," interposed
Green, "I'm sure that's thick enough for a plug."
"Perhaps there's a head in it already," suggested Philips,
"there was a hand just now--the other may have followed."
"By jingo I'll try," returned Green, "I'd give a week's
grog to be able to prick a feller with this playthin'"
So saying, he knelt upon the floor, and holding his musket
in a horizontal position, a few inches above it, he gave
a furious thrust into the aperture. To his astonishment,
for notwithstanding his half bravado, he had not seriously
anticipated such a result, he found the advance of his
weapon slightly arrested by a yielding body, and even had
not a sharp cry of pain from the other extremity of the
trough, satisfied him of the fact, the peculiar sensation
he experienced as the steel overcame the resistance was
sufficient to convince Green, little accustomed even as he
had been to bayonet men, that the bayonet had entered into
some soft part of the human body.


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