Explore "Peter" by Francis Hopkinson Smith on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The Scribe would willingly omit this chapter. Dying men, hurrying doctors, improvised stretchers made of wrenched fence rails; silent, slow-moving throngs following limp, bruised bodies, -- are not pleasant objects to write about and should be disposed of as quickly as possible.
Exactly whose fault it was nobody knew; if any one did, no one ever told. Every precaution had been taken each charge had been properly placed and tamped; all the fulminates inspected and the connections made with the greatest care. As to the battery -- that was known to be half a mile away in the pay shanty, lying on Jack Breen's table.