domingo, 23 de agosto de 2009

L a tall man, very strongly made, he spoke,

En, refreshed and more confident, went to my next turn. This was at five
hundred yards. If you will consider that I was shooting from our house
across the meadow, across the railroad bridge, at a circle twenty inches
in diameter (about the size of our largest pewter platter) you will
understand my task. But I was fussed to begin with, for someone had
taken my rifle from the rack, and I had therefore not blacked the
sights, nor adjusted the sling, of the one that I hastily borrowed. As I
came to the stand I was met by an artillery corporal, evidently a kind
of super-coach, who curtly ordered me to do the one thing and the other,
and hurried me to my place. I told him how the captain had wanted the
sights set for this distance; I had put them so. "That doesn't go here,"
he said, readjusted them himself, and ordered me to lie down. He was so
overbearing, and I was so uncertain of my rights, that I took my
position and fired my shot. A miss! He blamed me severely, and in
general treated me like the dirt under my feet. At my next shot, a poor
two, he said, "There you go, thinking you know all about it, and jerking
your trigger again." I said, "On the contrary, I'm not used to t