They belonged to a very good regiment and they had been starved for four months.

But in spite of their independence I got them to my porch.

I had just purchased at awful prices a few delicacies like sugar and tobacco, marmalade and a bottle of whiskey.

So I gave them to them and I never enjoyed anything so much-- The poor yellow faced skeletons ate in absolute silence still fighting with their pride until I told them I was an American and was a canteen contractor's friend-- Then I gave them segars and it was too pitiful-- In our column, if you give a man something extra he says a lot and swears it's the best drink or the best segar or that you're the best chap he ever met-- Just as I say it to them when they give me things.

But these starved bodies tried to be very polite and conversational on every subject except food--when I offered them the segars which could only be got then at a dollar twenty-five a piece (they had not cost me that as I had bought them in Cape Town for two cents apiece!) What has Dad to say to that for economy?
They accepted them quite as though it was in Havana--and then leaned back and went off into opium dreams-- Imagine the first segar after three months.