With Eyes To The Front And Hands
Down Their Sides They Looked Absurdly Like Wax Figures Waiting To Be
"Wound Up," And I Did Want So Much To Tell The Little Son Of General
Phillips To Pinch One And Make Him Jump.
He would have done it, too,
and then put all the blame upon me, without loss of time.
The first sergeant came to meet us, and went around with us. There
were three long tables, fairly groaning with things upon them:
buffalo, antelope, boiled ham, several kinds of vegetables, pies,
cakes, quantities of pickles, dried "apple-duff," and coffee, and in
the center of each table, high up, was a huge cake thickly covered
with icing. These were the cakes that Mrs. Phillips, Mrs. Barker, and
I had sent over that morning. It is the custom in the regiment for the
wives of the officers every Christmas to send the enlisted men of
their husbands' companies large plum cakes, rich with fruit and sugar.
Eliza made the cake I sent over, a fact I made known from its very
beginning, to keep it from being devoured by those it was not intended
for.
The hall was very prettily decorated with flags and accoutrements, but
one missed the greens. There are no evergreen trees here, only
cottonwood. Before coming out, General Phillips said a few pleasant
words to the men, wishing them a "Merry Christmas" for all of us.
Judging from the laughing and shuffling of feet as soon as we got
outside, the men were glad to be allowed to relax once more.
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