ell recollect
the strange and motley group that filled the cars on that journey.
There were a few officers and soldiers _en route_ to join their
comrades in the field. Nearly all of them were fresh from civil life.
They wore their uniforms uneasily, as a farmer's boy wears his Sunday
suit. Those who carried sabers experienced much inconvenience when
walking, on account of the propensity of those weapons to get between
their legs. In citizen's dress, at my side, sat an officer of the old
army, who looked upon these newly-made warriors with much contempt,
mingled with an admiration of their earnestness. After an outburst
of mild invective, he pronounced a well-merited tribute to their
patriotism.

"After all," said he, "they are as good as the material the Rebels
have for their army. In some respects, they are better. The Northern
blood is cold; the Southern is full of life and passion. In the first
onset, our enemies will prove more impetuous than we, and will often
overpower us. In the beginning of the struggle, they will prove our
superiors, and may be able to boast of the first victories. But their
physical energy will soon be exhausted, while ours will steadily
increase. Patience, coolness, and determination will be sure to bring
us the triumph in the end. These raw recruits, that are at present
worthless before trained soldiers, distrusting themselves as we
distrust them, will yet become veterans, worthy to rank with the best
soldiers of the Old World."

The civilian passengers on a railway in Missouri are essentially
different from the same class in the East. There are very few women,
and the most of these are not as carefully dressed as their Oriental
sisters. Their features lack the fineness that one observes in New
York and New England. The "hog and hominy," the general diet of the
Southwest, is plainly perceptible in the physique of the women. The
male travelers, who are not indigenous to the soil, are more roughly
clothed and more careless in manner than the same order of passengers
between New York and Boston. Of those who enter and leave at
way-stations, the men are clad in that yellow, homespun material known
as "butternut." The casual observer inclines to the opinion that
there are no good bathing-places where these men reside. They are
inquisitive, ignorant, unkempt, but generally civil. The women are
the reverse of attractive, and are usually uncivil and ignorant.
The majority are addicted to smoking,