y housekeeping at home is not, perhaps, on any very extravagant scale.
Buying beefsteak, I usually go to the extent of two or three pounds. Yet
when, this morning at daybreak, the quartermaster called to inquire how
many cattle I would have killed for roasting, I turned over in bed, and
answered composedly, "Ten,--and keep three to be fatted."

Fatted, quotha! Not one of the beasts at present appears to possess an
ounce of superfluous flesh. Never were seen such lean kine. As they
swing on vast spits, composed of young trees, the fire-light glimmers
through their ribs, as if they were great lanterns. But no matter, they
are cooking,--nay, they are cooked.

One at least is taken off to cool, and will be replaced to-morrow to
warm up. It was roasted three hours, and well done, for I tasted it. It
is so long since I tasted fresh beef that forgetfulness is possible; but
I fancied this to be successful. I tried to imagine that I liked the
Homeric repast, and certainly the whole thing has been far more
agreeable than was to be expected. The doubt now is, whether I have made
a sufficient provision for my household. I should have roughly guessed
that ten beeves would feed as many million people, it has such a
stupendous sound; but General Saxton predicts a small social party of
five thousand, and we fear that meat will run short, unless they prefer
bone. One of the cattle is so small, we are hoping it may turn out veal.

For drink, we aim at the simple luxury of molasses-and-water, a barrel
per company, ten in all. Liberal housekeepers may like to know that for
a barrel of water we allow three gallons of molasses, half a pound of
ginger, and a quart of vinegar,--this last being a new ingredient for my
untutored palate, though all the rest are amazed at my ignorance. Hard
bread, with more molasses, and a dessert of tobacco, complete the
festive repast, destined to cheer, but not inebriate.

On this last point, of inebriation, this is certainly a wonderful camp.
For us, it is absolutely omitted from the list of vices. I have never
heard of a glass of liquor in the camp, nor of any effort either to
bring it in or to keep it out. A total absence of the circulating-medium
might explain the abstinence,--not that it seems to have that effect
with white soldiers,--but it would not explain the silence. The craving
for tobacco is constant and not to be allayed, like that of a mother for
her children; but I have never heard whiskey even