XX
THE BATTLE OF THE KING'S MILL
"Dar's trouble hatchin'."
It was afternoon of September 7. The men of the First Division were lying around. Pompey had come forward to where Jerry and Hannibal were sitting with several others, debating the course of events. There had been no fighting since August 20, when Churubusco fell.
"Gwan, you black crow!"
"Yes, sars. But I knows what I knows, gen'i'men. Dar's trouble hatchin'. Dat armorstice done busted an' we gwine to pop it to 'em ag'in."
"What?"
"Sartin. Dis chile don't mix up with offercers for nuffin'. The armorstice done been busted by Gin'ral Scott hisself. Dose Santy Annies been fortifyin' 'gin the rules, an' gettin' reinforcements; an' Gin'ral Scott he sent a note dis berry mornin' sayin' dar ain't any armorstice any mo' an' Santy Annie better look out fo' hisself. Santy Annie, he a big liar, but Gin'ral Scott, he a big strateegis' an' nobody gwine to fool him. I heah offercers talkin'; I heah Lieutenant Smith an' Lieutenant Grant talkin', same as odders. Dar's gwine to be a monster fight, sars."
"B' gorry!" old Sergeant Mulligan exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "That's right; sure, that ixplains matters. 'Tis why Cap'n Mason, of the ingineers, was off yonder to the front this mornin' rayconnoiterin'; an' there go Mason an' Colonel Duncan
