it in charge to see that every man has his due allowance of cubic feet of fresh air,—­in other words, to take care that each tent or other apartment is well ventilated, and not crowded.  The men’s affair is to establish such rules among comrades as that no one shall stop up air-holes, or overcrowd the place with guests, or taint the air with unwholesome fumes.  In the British army, bell-tents are not allowed at all as hospital tents.  Active, healthy men may use them in their resting hours; but their condemnation as abodes for the sick shows how pressing is the duty of ventilating them for the use of the strongest and healthiest.

A sound and airy tent being provided, the next consideration is of bedding.

The surgeons of the British force were always on the lookout for straw and hay, after being informed at the outset that the men could not have bedding, though it was hoped there was enough for the hospitals.  A few nights in the dust, among the old bones and rubbish of Gallipoli, and then in the Bulgarian marshes, showed that it would be better to bestow the bedding before the men went into hospital, and sheets of material were obtained for some of them to lie upon.  A zealous surgeon pointed out to the proper officer that this bedding consisted in fact of double ticking, evidently intended as paillasses, to be stuffed with straw.  The straw not being granted, he actually set to work to make hay; and, being well aided by the soldiers, he soon saw them sleeping on good mattresses.  It was understood in England, and believed by the Government, that every soldier in camp had three blankets; and after a time, this came true:  but in the interval, during the damp autumn and bitter winter, they had but one.  Lying on wet ground, with one damp and dirty blanket over them, prepared hundreds for the hospital and the grave.  The mischief was owing to the jealousy of some of the medical authorities, in the first place, who would not see, believe, or allow to be reported, the fact that the men were in any way ill-supplied, because these same doctors had specified the stores that would be wanted,—­and next, to the absence of a department for the actual distribution of existing stores.  With the bedding the case was the same as with the lime-juice and the rice:  there was plenty; but it was not served out till too late.  When the huts were inhabited, in the Crimea, and the wooden platforms had a dry soil beneath, and every man had a bed of some sort and three blankets, there was no more cholera or fever.

The American case is radically unlike that of any of the combatants in the Crimean War, because they are on the soil of their own country, within reach of their own railways, and always in the midst of the ordinary commodities of life.  In such a position, they can with the utmost ease be supplied with whatever they really want,—­so profuse as are the funds placed at the command of the authorities.  Considering this, and the well-known handiness of