"I think, sir," said Sergeant Whitley, "that we won't be able to get any
more of our wounded to-night. Now, pardon me for saying it, Lieutenant,
but we ought to have some rest, because when day comes there's going
to be the most awful attack you ever saw. Some of our spies say that
Longstreet and the last of the Virginians did not come until night or
nearly night and that Longstreet himself will lead the attack on us."
"Do you think, Sergeant, that it will be made first on our own corps?"
"I don't know, Mr. Mason. We've stood firmest, and them rebel generals
are no fools. They'll crash in where we've shown the most weakness."
The sergeant walked on, carrying the corner of a litter. Warner, who had
stood by, whispered to Dick:
"There goes a general, but he'll never have the title. He's got a
general's head on his shoulders, and he thinks and talks like a general,
but he hasn't any education, and men with much poorer brains go past him.
Let it be a lesson to you, Dick, my son. After this war, go to school,
and learn something."
"Good advice, George, and I'll take it," laughed Dick.
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