An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge — Vocabulary
Ambrose Bierce
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Beyond one of the sentinels nobody was in sight; the railroad ran straight away into a forest for a hundred yards, then, curving, was lost to view.†6 more

By diving I could evade the bullets and, swimming vigorously, reach the bank, take to the woods and get away home.†2 more

Nevertheless, this one had missed.†

The humming of the gnats that danced above the eddies of the stream, the beating of the dragon flies' wings, the strokes of the water spiders' legs, like oars which had lifted their boat—all these made audible music.†1 more

Keen, poignant agonies seemed to shoot from his neck downward through every fiber of his body and limbs.†1 more

In the code of military etiquette silence and fixity are forms of deference.†

The captain stood with folded arms, silent, observing the work of his subordinates, but making no sign.†

No service was too humble for him to perform in the aid of the South, no adventure to perilous for him to undertake if consistent with the character of a civilian who was at heart a soldier, and who in good faith and without too much qualification assented to at least a part of the frankly villainous dictum that all is fair in love and war.†

Not so much as the barking of a dog suggested human habitation.†

But his disobedient hands gave no heed to the command.†

Encompassed in a luminous cloud, of which he was now merely the fiery heart, without material substance, he swung through unthinkable arcs of oscillation, like a vast pendulum.†

The sound of a clear, high voice in a monotonous singsong now rang out behind him and came across the water with a distinctness that pierced and subdued all other sounds, even the beating of the ripples in his ears.†

As he shook his head free from the commotion of the smitten water he heard the deflected shot humming through the air ahead, and in an instant it was cracking and smashing the branches in the forest beyond.†

Ah, that was a fine endeavor!†

Keen, poignant agonies seemed to shoot from his neck downward through every fiber of his body and limbs.†

Being a slave owner and like other slave owners a politician, he was naturally an original secessionist and ardently devoted to the Southern cause.†

They shouted and gesticulated, pointing at him.†

Circumstances of an imperious nature, which it is unnecessary to relate here, had prevented him from taking service with that gallant army which had fought the disastrous campaigns ending with the fall of Corinth, and he chafed under the inglorious restraint, longing for the release of his energies, the larger life of the soldier, the opportunity for distinction.†

Encompassed in a luminous cloud, of which he was now merely the fiery heart, without material substance, he swung through unthinkable arcs of oscillation, like a vast pendulum.†

The other bank of the stream was open ground—a gentle slope topped with a stockade of vertical tree trunks, loopholed for rifles, with a single embrasure through which protruded the muzzle of a brass cannon commanding the bridge.†