Friends came to make taffy and stayed the livelong day. They
played cards. One man, a soldier, had only two teeth left in front and they
lapped across each other. On account of the condition of his mouth, he had
maintained a dignified sobriety of aspect, though he told some funny stories.
Finally a story was too much for him, and he grinned from ear to ear. Maggie
gazed, and then called out as the negro fiddlers call out dancing figures, “Forward
two and cross over!” Fancy our faces. The hero of the two teeth, relapsing into
a decorous arrangement of mouth, said: “Cavalry are the eyes of an army; they
bring the news; the artillery are the boys to make a noise; but the infantry do
the fighting, and a general or so gets all the glory.”
SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta
Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 292
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