some company (in a pig's eye). We left the Colonel, laughing among ourselves, saying that the Colonel must be mighty sharp if he catches any of us near his quarters to-morrow.
This evening we resolved to change our quarters to-morrow for a few days, or until Gen. Butler's division arrives, when we will follow it to the city of Mexico and there be attached to our own respective companies.
To-night, on account of our promise, we can burn candles and rest with ease without any fear of being disturbed by the patrol. So all four of us went to work and posted our notes of to-day's proceedings and wrote letters to several of our friends, one of which is to one of my old schoolmates, as follows:
|Puebla City, Mexico|
|December 11th, 1847|
Mr. William Strunk.
Dear Friend:—It has been a long time since I have seen you or heard from you, but for all this I have not forgotten you. No, I often think of you and the many pleasant and happy hours I passed at the old Hoffman schoolhouse, pelting each other with snow-balls and playing town ball. All these scenes and memories of my boyhood are constantly mingled with the many dreams in this tierra calientes. You are aware that I am now engaged and going to a different kind of school, as well as playing ball; yes, playing with balls that are dangerous, and when they strike will leave more painful marks than the ones you used to pitch or throw at me when running to base, or put me out on the fly and sometimes foul too. I will not now attempt to give you any outlines of our long marches, battles, guerilla fights, etc., and of the siege of Puebla, as I expect you have already, before this letter reaches you, read in print a full and accurate account of the whole action.
On our march from Perote Castle to Puebla City, we passed through a partly rough and beautiful valley. Some places it looked like an immense flower garden. The shrubs were