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[[left margin, blue vertical line]] The ridges and mosquitoes were something terrible and [[/left margin, blue vertical line]] to go down into the marsh and stir up more of them, literally clouds of them, took all the nerve I had. I was in such torment I took to singing to steady my nerves. It occurred to me that if anyone saw me wading into the marsh and coming out in a cloud of mosquitoes and midges singing "The strife is o'er the battle won" he would have good reason to think I was crazy. 
One might think my singing might scare off the torments but it didn't, but it did [[strikethrough]] allay [[/strikethrough]] [[insertion]] quiet [[/insertion]] my nerves a bit. I'm so peppered with bites I'll be glad to get out of Matto Grosso.  I hope