ry a sad revulsion to hearts
at home, made happy, but a short time since, by news of his safety.

The patients rouse themselves from the drowsiness of a sleepless night,
expecting a morning greeting as I pass through the wards, giving to each
his early stimulant of whiskey or cherry-brandy. The men in the ward
where poor Talbot died seem in especial need of it; for, as they glance
at the vacant corner, they say, "He screamed so badly, we didn't get
much sleep."

At the call of the bugle a general stampede takes place for breakfast,
and I must repair to the serving-room to oversee the last preparations
for low and special diet; for on his return each of the male nurses will
appear at the window with a large tray to be filled for his hungry men.
Beef essence, jellies, and puddings for the day's requirement claim a
little personal attention. Such things are not always left to servants
at home; and how could our "boys in blue" be expected to handle the
spoon with the same dexterity as the musket? They are not, however,
deficient in culinary skill, as the savory hash, well-turned beefsteaks,
nicely dropped eggs, and good coffee will testify.

After the procession of heavily laden breakfast-bearers has moved off,
supplies from the commissary need a little arranging; and one must plan
how they may be made the most of, and what additions for the next three
meals are to be furnished from private resources. The result of which
consideration is usually the despatch of Henry, the chief cook, into the
city to purchase chickens, oysters, and milk in as great quantity as can
be bought.

At eight o'clock the ladies meet for their morning meal. Good cold
water, bread and molasses, with the occasional luxury of a salt-fish
cake, suffice to keep soul and body together. The coffee is said to be
good by those in the habit of taking it, and some, too, enjoy the
butter.

The preparation of lemonade in large quantities, and drinks of various
degrees of sweetness and acidity, is next to be superintended. As
rapidly as possible the little pitchers are filled, and I follow them to
the wards.

Wondering what can be the matter, and cooling his parched lips and
bathing his burning brow, I stand over Allen as the doctor enters. Doubt
is soon dispelled, for he pronounces it a violent case of small-pox. It
is becoming very prevalent, but this is my first introduction to it. The
doctor orders the immediate removal of the patient to Horn Point, th