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Military Discipline

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Murphy was a new recruit in the cavalry. He could not ride at all, and
by ill luck was given one of the most vicious horses in the troop.

"Remember," said the sergeant, "no one is allowed to dismount without
orders."

Murphy was no sooner in the saddle than he was thrown to the ground.

"Murphy!" yelled the sergeant, when he discovered him lying breathless
on the ground, "you dismounted!"

"I did."

"Did you have orders?"

"I did."

"From headquarters, I suppose?"

"No, sor; from hintquarters."


"How dare you come on parade," exclaimed an Irish sergeant to a recruit,
"before a respictible man loike mysilf smothered from head to foot in
graise an' poipe clay? Tell me now--answer me when I spake to yez!"

The recruit was about to excuse himself for his condition when the
sergeant stopped him.

"Dare yez to answer me when I puts a question to yez?" he cried. "Hould
yer lyin' tongue, and open your face at yer peril! Tell me now, what
have ye been doin' wid yer uniform an' arms an' bills? Not a word, or
I'll clap yez in the guardroom. When I axes yez anything an' yez spakes
I'll have yez tried for insolence to yer superior officer, but if yez
don't answer when I questions yez, I'll have yez punished for
disobedience of orders! So, yez see, I have yez both ways!"


Mistake, error, is the discipline through which we advance.--_Channing_.





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