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"We're going to get married, mamma, mamma;

"Oh I was forgetting that; yes, do!"

Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight dove's, breathe, Return, return!

"Ferry's scouts," I repeated. "F-e-r-r-y-apostrophe s, Ferry's--s-k-o-w-t-s--scouts."

"You have no carbine," said my commander. "And you have but one revolver; here is another."

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