Our Lieutenant, old Tom Adrian, than whom a braver man never wore a hair, shouted out, ‘ Tigers, go in once more — go in, my sons; I'll be greatly, gloriously God d — d if the s — s of b----s can ever whip the Tigers.’ Our blood was on fire, life was valueless; the boys fired one volley, then rushed upon the foe,&c. Such language would naturally “fire the blood” of most men. We should like to know if this is the ordinary vocabulary of the rebel officers--N. Y. Times, Sept. 5.
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