I was always counted in, but seldom,
very seldom, accepted an invitation, for it seemed to me like
unfaithfulness to the memory of the gallant dead, and a mockery of the
suffering in our midst. I could not rid myself of this feeling, and
can truly say that during those fateful years, from the time when in
Richmond the "starvation parties" were organized, until the end, I
never found a suitable time to dance or a time to laugh or a time to
make merry.
My own special kitchen (an immense wareroom at the back of the store,
which was used for a distributing-room) was in Newnan well fitted up.
A cavernous fireplace, well supplied with big pots, little pots,
bake-ovens, and stew-pans, was supplemented by a cooking-stove of good
size. A large brick oven was built in the yard close by, and two
professional bakers, with their assistants, were kept busy baking for
the whole post. There happened to be a back entrance to this kitchen,
and although the convalescents were not allowed inside, many were the
interviews held at said door upon subjects of vital importance to the
poor fellows who had walked far into the country to obtain coveted
dainties which they wanted to have cooked "like my folks at home fix
it up.
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