With that they ties it up as well as ever they can, warnin' me meanwhile that I've got about one chance in a score to beat the game.
Then they imparts a piece of news that's a mighty sight worse than my laig.
"'"Joe," says this doctor, when he's got me bandaged, "our army's got to rustle out of yere a whole lot.

She's on the retreat right now.
Them Yanks outheld us an' out-played us an' we've got to go stampedin'.
The worst is, thar's no way to take you along, an' we'll have to leave you behind." "'"Then the Yanks will corral me ?" I asks.
"'"Shore," he replies, "but thar's nothin' else for it." "'It's then it comes on me about that gunboat an' the promises old Butler makes himse'f about hangin' me when caught.

Which these yere reflections infooses new life into me.

I makes the doctor who's talkin' go rummagin' about ontil he rounds up a old nigger daddy, a mule an' a two-wheel sugar kyart.

It's rainin' by now so's you-all could stand an' wash your face an' hands in it.