.

"An Apple Jack Raid.".
This kind o' sojerin' ain't a mite like our October trainin', A chap could clear right out from there, ef it only lookd like rainin'; And the Cunnels, too, could kiver up their shappoes with bandanners, An' send the Insines skootin' to the bar-room, with their banners, (Fear o' gittin' on 'em spotted,) an' a feller could cry quarter Ef he fired away his ramrod arter tu much rum an' water.
-- James Russel Lowell.
The morning after the battle, Kent Edwards was strolling around the camp at Wildcat.

"Shades of my hot-throated ancestors who swallowed several fine farms by the tumblerful, how thirsty I am!" he said at length.
"It's no wonder these Kentuckians are such hard drinkers.

There's something in the atmosphere that makes me drier the farther we advance into the State.

Maybe the pursuit of glory has something desiccating in it.