I've jest dropped at the time when my ammunition waggons enters into the sperit of the o'casion like I describes.

As I lays thar one of my men comes gropin' along down to me in the smoke.
"'"Be you hurt, Major ?" he says.
"'"I don't know," I replies: "my idee is that you better investigate an' see." "'He t'ars open my coat; thar's no blood on my shirt.

He lifts one arm an' then the other; they're sound as gold pieces.

Then I lifts up my left laig; I've got on high hoss-man boots.
"'"Pull off this moccasin," I says.
"'He pulls her off an' thar's nothin' the matter thar.

I breaks out into a profoose sweat; gents, I'm scared speechless.