but appears to enjoy discoursing in a sentimental way upon his disappointment.  He wears such an air of meek resignation when he speaks of his cruel fair one that the effect is quite irresistible, and I find it difficult to accord him that sympathy which his unhappy fate demands.  Fortunately for him, his troubles, deep-seated as they are, appear to have very little effect upon his appetite.  He sits down to his rations with a look of subdued sorrow upon his face, and sighs frequently between the mouthfuls.  In spite of this, however, he seldom leaves anything upon his tin plate, which speaks well for his appetite, since Uncle Sam is a generous provider, and few of us do full justice to our allowance.

“You may wonder how I enjoy soldier’s fare.  I certainly do long sometimes for the good pumpkin and apple pies which I used to have at home, and confess that a little apple sauce would make my hardtack a little more savory.  I begin to appreciate your good qualities as a housekeeper, Mary, more than ever.  Pies can be got of the sutler, but they are such poor things that I would rather do without than eat them, and I am quite sure they would try my digestion sorely.

“There is one very homely esculent which we crave in the camp—­I mean the onion.  It is an excellent preventive of scurvy, a disease to which our mode of living particularly exposes us.  We eat as many as we can get, and should be glad of more.  Tell Frank he may plant a whole acre of them.  They will require considerable care, but even in a pecuniary way they will pay.  The price has considerably advanced since the war began, on account of the large army demand, and will doubtless increase more.

“As to our military exercises, drill, etc., we have enough to occupy our time well.  I see the advantage of enlisting in a veteran regiment.  I find myself improving very rapidly.  Besides my public company drill, I am getting my young comrade, Frank Grover, who has been in the service six months, to give me some private lessons.  With the help of these, I hope to pass muster creditably before my first month is out.

“And now, my dear Mary, I must draw my letter to a close.  In the army we are obliged to write under difficulties.  I am writing this on my knapsack for a desk, and that is not quite so easy as a table.  The constrained position in which I am forced to sit has tired me, and I think I will go out and ‘limber’ myself a little.  Frank, who has just finished a letter to his mother, will no doubt join me.  Two of my comrades are sitting close by, playing euchre.  When I joined them I found they were in the habit of playing for small stakes, but I have succeeded in inducing them to give up a practice which might not unlikely lead to bad results.

“In closing, I need not tell you how much and how often I think of you all.  I have never before been separated from you, and there are times when my longing to be with you again is very strong.  You must make up for your absence by frequent and long letters.  Tell me all that is going on.  Even trifles will serve to amuse us here.