st be spoken to,
and each made answer. Throughout the later letters the names Bonfire and
Bonneau occur continually. Bonfire was his horse, and Bonneau his dog.

This horse, an Irish hunter, was given to him by John L. Todd. It was
wounded twice, and now lives in honourable retirement at a secret place
which need not be disclosed to the army authorities. One officer who
had visited the hospital writes of seeing him going about the wards with
Bonneau and a small French child following after. In memory of his love
for animals and children the following extracts will serve:

You ask if the wee fellow has a name--Mike, mostly, as a term of
affection. He has found a cupboard in one ward in which oakum is stored,
and he loves to steal in there and "pick oakum", amusing himself as long
as is permitted. I hold that this indicates convict ancestry to which
Mike makes no defence.

The family is very well, even one-eyed Mike is able to go round the yard
in his dressing-gown, so to speak. He is a queer pathetic little beast
and Madame has him "hospitalized" on the bottom shelf of the sideboard
in the living room, whence he comes down (six inches to the floor) to
greet me, and then gravely hirples back, the hind legs looking very
pathetic as he hops in. But he is full of spirit and is doing very well.

As to the animals--"those poor voiceless creatures," say you. I wish you
could hear them. Bonneau and Mike are a perfect Dignity and Impudence;
and both vocal to a wonderful degree. Mike's face is exactly like the
terrier in the old picture, and he sits up and gives his paw just like
Bonneau, and I never saw him have any instruction; and as for voice,
I wish you could hear Bonfire's "whicker" to me in the stable or
elsewhere. It is all but talk. There is one ward door that he tries
whenever we pass. He turns his head around, looks into the door, and
waits. The Sisters in the ward have changed frequently, but all alike
"fall for it", as they say, and produce a biscuit or some such dainty
which Bonfire takes with much gravity and gentleness. Should I chide
him for being too eager and give him my hand saying, "Gentle now," he
mumbles with his lips, and licks with his tongue like a dog to show how
gentle he can be when he tries. Truly a great boy is that same. On this
subject I am like a doting grandmother, but forgive it.

I have a very deep affection for Bonfire, for we have been through so
much together, and some of it bad en