The private history of a campaign that failed

He muttered and mumbled like a dreamer in his sleep about his wife and his child, and, I thought with a new despair, "This thing that I have done does not end with him; it falls upon them too, and they never did me any harm, any more than he.

Then about dawn, we straggled into New London, soiled, heel blistered, fagged with out little march, and all of us, except Stevens, in a sour and raspy humour and privately down on the war.

What could you expect of them? They never succeeded in participating in a properly operated militia unit. He knew quite clearly he had invested us in the cause of the Southern Confederacy. Good name, b'gosh," said he. The thought of hi got to preying on me every night, I could not get rid of it.

Wait for the rest! An hour later we met General Harris on the road, with two or three people in his company, his staff probably, but we could not tell; none of them were in uniform; uniforms had not come into vogue among us yet.

The private history of a campaign that failed movie

Those nights were a hundred years long to youths accustomed to being up till twelve. We struck down the lane, then across some rocky pasture land which offered good advantages fro stumbling; consequently we were down in the mud most of the time, and every time a man went down he black guarded the war and everybody connected with it, and gave himself the master dose of all for being so foolish as to go into it. We realized with a cold suddenness that here was no jest--we were standing face to face with actual war. It was a man on horseback, and it seemed to me that there were others behind him. Hot biscuits, hot wheat bread, prettily crossed in a lattice pattern on top, hot corn pone, fried chicken, bacon, coffee, eggs, milk, buttermilk etc. As far as he was concerned, this military expedition of ours was simply a holiday. The male part of the household were away in the fields all day, the women were busy and out of our sight, There was no sound but the plaintive wailing of a spinning wheel forever moaning out from some distant room, the most lonesome sound in nature, a sound steeped and sodden with homesickness and the emptiness of life. I was down by him in a moment, helplessly stroking his forehead, and I would have given anything then, my own life freely, to make him again what he had been five minutes before. Mark Twain feels like he and his fellow comrades were unsuccessful at war. But that could not be kept up. In that summer of the first wash of the wave of war broke upon the shores of Missouri. But the rumours always turned out to be false, so at last we even began to grow indifferent to them.

We all said let him hover. The sugar troughs came very handy as horse troughs and we had plenty of corn to fill them with.

Climax The climax of the story occurred when someone gave a warning that the enemy was coming, and the militia group would always fall back. Everybody saw in a moment how true this was and how wise, so Lyman got a great many compliments. There were six shots fired at once but I was not in my right mind at the time, and my heated imagination had magnified my one shot into a volley. By the advice of an innocent connected with the organization we called ourselves the Marion Rangers. The first hour was all fun, all idle nonsense and laughter. I grant that, but they ought at least be allowed to state why they didn't do anything and also to explain the process by which they didn't do anything. But he would not listen to me with any patience, my loyalty was smirched, to his eye, because my father had owned slaves.

The Private History of a Campaign That Failed by Mark Twain Approximate Word Count: You have heard from a great many people who did something in the war, is it not fair and right that you listen a little moment to one who started out to do something in it but didn't?

Afterward he took us to a distant meadow, and there, in the shade of a tree, we listened to an old fashioned speech from him, full of gunpowder and glory, full of that adjective piling, mixed metaphor and windy declamation which was regraded as eloquence in that ancient time and region and then he swore on a bible to be faithful to the State of Missouri and drive all invaders from her soil no matter whence they may come or under what flag they might march.

the war prayer

The result was a sharp stir among us and general consternation. My pilot mate was a New Yorker.

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The Private History of a Campaign that Failed by Daniel Kim on Prezi