So companies all linked arms, and they did better in that fashion; but one artilleryman's hand came off as I held it, for he had had the frost-bite for three days." I stood staring with my mouth open.
"And the old Grenadiers, too, who were not so active as they used to be, they could not keep up; and yet if they lingered the peasants would catch them and crucify them to the barn doors with their feet up and a fire under their heads, which was a pity for these fine old soldiers.
So when they could go no further, it was interesting to see what they would do; for they would sit down and say their prayers, sitting on an old saddle, or their knapsacks, maybe, and then take off their boots and their stockings, and lean their chin on the barrel of their musket.
Then they would put their toe on the trigger, and _pouf!_ it was all over, and there was no more marching for those fine old Grenadiers.

Oh, it was very rough work up there on these Guadarama mountains!" "And what army was this ?" I asked.
"Oh, I have served in so many armies that I mix them up sometimes.
Yes, I have seen much of war.

Apropos I have seen your Scotchmen fight, and very stout fantassins they make, but I thought from them, that the folk over here all wore--how do you say it ?--petticoats." "Those are the kilts, and they wear them only in the Highlands." "Ah! on the mountains.

But there is a man out yonder.

Maybe he is the one who your father said would carry my letters to the post." "Yes, he is Farmer Whitehead's man.