Raining. My bed being pretty comfortable I concluded to lie
still until Jacques summoned, “Déjeuner
tout prêt, Monsieur
le Colonel,” at eight A. M. A nice one it was too. Dip toast, our regular
morning dish (we get a pint of milk now twice a day, ten cents per pint), and
fried pudding. Fletcher Abbott and Charley Sargent called in the afternoon. A
heavy shower coming up drove them off, and nearly spoiled our dinner, which you
know is cooked out doors, on three or four bricks, just back of our tent.
SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William
Francis Bartlett, p. 81
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