yankees jersey navy

Old Dismukes rose. "Good-night. Shall I send this boy that Yankee's horse?"

My whole nature was upheaved. You may smile, but my plight was awful. In the sultry night I grew cold. My bridle-hand, still lying under her palm, turned and folded its big stupid fingers over hers. Then our hands slid apart and we rode back. "I wish I were good enough to know the stars," she said, gazing up. "Tell me some of them."

He spurted a pint to reply, "Fishe's batt'ry."

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