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Bacon, Delia, 1811-1859

"The Bride of Fort Edward"

We shall be off by to-morrow night, no doubt of it,--if we
don't chance to get cooked and eaten before that time,--some little risk
of that.
_2nd Sol_. But what's the matter below there, I say? The bridge? what
ails it?
_3d Sol_. Just as that last wagon was going over, down comes the bridge,
Sirs, or a good piece of it at least.--What else could it do?--timbers
half sawn away!
_2nd Sol_. Some of that young jackanape's work! _Aid-de-camp!_ I'd _aid_
him. He must be ordering and fidgetting, and fuming.--Could not wait
till we were over.
_1st Sol_. All of a piece, boys!
_3d Sol_. Humph. I wish it had been,--the bridge, I mean.
_1st Sol_. But, I say, don't you see how every thing, little and great,
goes one way, and that, against us? Chance has no currents like this!
It's a bad side that Providence frowns on. I think when Heaven deserts a
cause, it's time for us poor mortals to begin to think about it.
_3d Sol_. Now, if you are going to do so mean a thing as that, don't
talk about Heaven--prythee don't.
[_They pass on_.
(_Two other soldiers enter_.


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