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brim turned up, and a pair of spectacles.
There he stood, a most out-of-place individual, with our uniform on, watching anxiously the progress of a pot, boiling on a fire.
The cavalry looked what I have learned to consider as very well; that is, the men looked healthy, the horses in good flesh, and the arms and equipments in proper repair.
To a European they must have been fearful; very likely so to Major Smyth, though he was silently polite — no polish, horses rough and woolly, and of all sizes and colors; men not sized at all, with all kinds of beards and every known species of hat; but as I know that men do not fight with their hats and beards, I was satisfied to see evidences of good discipline.
Thereafter we called on General Gregg, where I had a treat in form of some Newton pippins, of which excellent apple there was a barrel on hand.
November 24, 1864
This was Thanksgiving, which is sloppy and snowy and haily with us, as a general thing, but here was sunny and pleasant.
All day the waggons were distributing turkeys to the patriots, of whom I believe all got some, sooner or later.
Flint, having seen that his squadron had their poultry, called a sergeant and asked him how much it made to each man. “Well,” said the sergeant, “it makes about a quarter of a turkey, a piece of pie, and four apples.”
“Oh!”
said Flint, “quite a meal.”
“Yes,” said the sergeant dubiously, “yes, a small meal; I could eat half a turkey myself!”
The turkeys were ready cooked and were a great treat to our ragamuffins.
I took a ride in some woody spots within the lines, and it was pleasant, in the warm hollows, to hear the wee birds twittering and warbling, visitors from a northern climate, that have left you some weeks ago. Then there was a pileated woodpecker 