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第20章 Chapter (2)

Give de Jack Engleeshman plenty beef -- plenty pudding -- plenty porter, by gar he never tink any more, he lay down, he go a sleep like vun hog.""But, Monsieur le count," continued Laurens, "the English are doing worse for us than thinking. They are working away like horses, and will soon get their defences too high for us to scale.""Eh, heh, Monsieur le colonel! you think-a so? Well den, by gar you no need for tink-a so -- by gar my French-a-mans run over de fence just like vun tief horse run over de cornfield fence --mind now I tell-a you dat, Monsieur le colonel.""Well, but Monsieur le count, the British sometimes fight like the d---l.""Sacre Dieu!" replied the nettled count, starting and gaping as though he would have swallowed a young alligator --"de Briteesh fight like de diable! Jaun foutre de Briteesh! when they been known for fight like de diable? Ess, ess, dat true enough;dey fight de Americans like de diable -- but by gar dey no fight de French-a-mans so -- no no, by gar dey no make one mouthful for my French-a-mans -- Morbleu! my French-a-mans eat dem up like vun leetle grenoulle.""Green Owl!" exclaimed one of general Lincoln's aids --"Oh my God! who ever heard of a `green owl' before?"Here Laurens, smiling at the officer's mistake, replied, "not `green owl', sir, but `grenouille', grenouille, sir, is the French for frog.""Aye, sure enough, sure enough, frog," continued the count, "frog; grenouille is frog. By gar, Monsieur le colonel, you be vun dam good interpret, I set dat well enough. Well den, now, Monsieur le colonel, you hear-a me speak -- my French-a-mans eat dem Jack Engleesh all same like vun leetle frog.""Oh to be sure! -- no doubt of all that, Monsieur le count --but before we eat them up, they may kill a great many of our soldiers.""Dey kill-a de soldier!" replied the passionate count -- "well what den if dey do kill-a de soldier! Jaun foutre de soldier! what dey good for but for be kill? dat deir trade. You give-a vun poor dog soldier, two, three, four penny a day, he go fight -- he get kill. Well den, what dat?

By gar he only get what he HIRE for."

"But pardon me, Monsieur le count, we can't spare them.""Vat! no spare de soldier! de GRAND MONARQUE no spare de soldier?

O mon Dieu! Vy, Monsieur le colonel -- for why you talk-a so? Well den, hear-a me speak now, Monsieur le colonel -- you see de star in de sky;de leaf on de tree; de sand on de shore -- you no see all dat, heh?

Well den, by gar, Monsieur le colonel, de GRAND MONARQUE got soldier more an-a all dat -- ess, sacra Dieu! more an-a all dat, by gar.""Well but, Monsieur le count, is it not CRUEL to kill the poor fellows notwithstanding?""Pooh!" replied the count, throwing back his head, and puffing out his cheeks as when a cigar sucker explodes a cataract of smoke from the crater of his throat; "cruel! vat cruel for kill-a de soldier! by gar, Monsieur le colonel, you make-a de king of France laugh he hear-a you talk after dat fashong. Let-a me tell you, Monsieur le colonel, de king of France no like general Washington -- by gar, general Washington talk wi' de soldier -- he shake hand wi' de soldier --he give de soldier dram -- By gar, de GRAND MONARQUE no do so --no, sacra Dieu! he no LOOK AT de soldier. When de king of France ride out in de coach royale wid de supeerb horses, and harness shining so bright all vun like gold, if he run over one soldier, you tink he going stop for dat? No, sacra foutre! he ride on so, all one like if nothing at all been happen. Jaun foutre de soldier! let him prenez garde for himself; by gar the grand Monarque no mind dat.

De grand Monarque only tink of de soldier `commes des chiens', like de poor dam dog for fight for him."Thus ended the dialogue between colonel Laurens and the count D'Estang.

The next day, the memorable twenty-four hours being expired, a flag was sent into town to know the determination of the British officer, who very politely replied, that having consulted his pillow, he had made up his mind to defend the place. A regular siege was then commenced, and continued for three weeks: at the end of which an attack was made, and with the success which Marion had all along predicted. After a full hour's exposure to the destructive rage of grape shot and musketry, we were obliged to make a precipitate retreat; leaving the ground covered with the mingled carcasses of 400 Americans and 800 Frenchmen.

Marion's corps fighting with their usual confidence, suffered great loss;himself did not receive a scratch. Colonel Laurens raged like a wounded lion.

Soon as the retreat was ordered he paused, and looking round on his fallen men, cried out, "Poor fellows, I envy you!"then hurling his sword in wrath against the ground, he retired.

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