Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905 · New York : Scribner · leaf 254
ittle said in the ranks, for there is little breath for talking, though every man is busyenough thinking. We all feel, somehow, thatour day has come at last — as indeed it has I We get in through the outskirts of Gettysburg,tearing down the fences of the town lots and outly-ing gardens as we go; we… … ON THE MARCH TO knapsacks ? shouts some onedown the line to our Division-gen-eral, as he is dashing by. Never mind the knapsacks,boys; it s the State now ! And he plunges his spurs up to the rowels in theflanks of his horse, as he takes the stake-and-ridcrfence at a leap and is away. Unfurl the…
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