"What! leave you to face those fiends alone!" she cried, and slid
from her horse's back;
"Let me die with you--for I love you, Clem!" Then she gave her steed
a resounding smack,
And he bounded off; "Now Heaven be praised that my school six-shooter
I brought!" said she.
"Four barrels I'll keep for the front-rank foes--and the next for
you--and the last for me!"
SOC. CHAT. Is it a _comic_ piece she's doing, do you know? Don't think
so, I can see somebody smiling. Sounds rather like Shakespeare, or
Dickens, or one of those fellahs.... Didn't catch what you said. No.
Quite impossible to hear one's self speak, _isn't_ it?