after another was found to be rotted in the same way, but, occasionally, 

 there would be a sound one and, out of a couple of dozen, I managed 

 to get eight serviceable blankets. Completely bewildered, I asked the 

 officer what could be the meaning of such an extraordinary state of 

 affairs and he told me to look at the roof. That structure had large 

 holes all over it and must have been a very ineffective means of keeping 

 out the weather. The Quartermaster went on: "The people in Wash- 

 ington won't give me the money to mend the roof, while thousands of 

 dollars worth of stores are ruined for want of protection." That was 

 the most flagrant case that came under my notice, but I saw enough 

 to show the need of a radical reform of the army administration. 



Letters, official and personal, had been given me to the post-com- 

 mander and surgeon. The former. General Merritt, Colonel of the 5th 

 Cavalry, was one of the most distinguished of the younger cavalry 

 leaders of the Civil War. Both he and Mrs. Merritt were exceedingly 

 kind and helpful to us, nothing daunted by our disreputable appear- 

 ance. The post-surgeon also, Dr. H. O. Paulding ("Hop"), whose early 

 death was deplored by a wide circle of friends, and Mrs. Paulding en- 

 deared themselves to us all by their unstinted kindness and hospitality. 

 Dr. Paulding's memory was a treasury of army yarns and I am sorry 

 that I can remember but two of the many stories he told us. 



Both of these tales referred to an old staflf officer, of high rank, who 

 had the reputation of being the most profane man in the army and, 

 like many such people, was quite unconscious of the language he was 

 using. He was accustomed to tell a story of his wife and daughter that 

 awakened the wildest hilarity among those who knew the ladies and yet 

 the General himself never understood why people thought it so funny. 

 A bowdlerized version would be somewhat as follows. The General 

 loquitur: "One night I heard the damnedest racket in my wife's bed- 

 room; I ran in there and found my wife standing on one chair and 

 Sallie on another, both with their skirts gathered tight around them 

 and yelling to beat hell. 'General,' says my wife, 'there's a God damned 

 rat in here.' 'Yes, father,' says Sallie, 'you kill the dam' son of a — '." And 

 so the tale meandered on, attributing the most awful language to a 

 couple of ladies who could no more have talked like that than they 

 could have walked down the street on their hands. 



The other story related how a civilian once came into the General's 

 office and asked for some favour which was refused. The visitor in- 

 timated that he had done many favours for the General and thought he 

 might ask something in return. That was too much; the old man 



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