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[Page 27]
draught & the cursed dust, is seated at his correspondence, giving one the impression of a bird with a fountain pen – I notice that most of the time it is in his mouth – for a break, brooding in a dowry nest of note paper, composed of the numerous letters he has received dur in the course of the last five mails or so.
The next man, who sleeps next to me is just outside the tent engaged in a hot argument, to his shame be it said, for he is on first picket & should
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