From cross-sticks, arranged gypsy-fashion, swung an iron pot, in which
was prepared the cornmeal coffee, which, with "long sweetening"
(molasses) and without milk, composed the meal. In this well-arranged
mess the work was so divided that each man had his day to cut all the
wood, bring all the water, cook, wash dishes, and keep the cabin in
order. So, on this occasion there was no confusion. All was
accomplished with precision. In due time a piece of board was placed
before me with my rations arranged upon it in a bright tin plate, my
coffee being served in a gorgeous mug, which, I strongly suspect, had
been borrowed for the occasion, having once been a shaving-mug. Dinner
over, Lieutenant Cluverius called to escort me through the camp, and
at the officers' quarters I met many old acquaintances. Upon inquiry,
I found the boys in camp contented and entirely unwilling to receive
any benefit from the fund placed in my hands. They had taken the
chances of a soldier's life, and were quite willing to abide by them.
The terrible bumping which I had experienced while riding to camp, in
the ambulance drawn by the "gaily mule," disinclined me for another
ride.
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