I can go--that is all
sufficient for the present, and we expect to leave for Pittsburg this
evening at nine o'clock.
The late start gives us a long day here with nothing to do. After a
while, when it is not quite so hot outside, we are going out to take a
farewell look at some of our old haunts. Our friends are all out of
the city, and Jackson Barracks is too far away for such a warm
day--besides, there is no one there now that we know.
It seems quite natural to be in this dear old hotel, where all during
the past winter our "Army and Navy Club" cotillons were danced every
two weeks. And they were such beautiful affairs, with two splendid
military orchestras to furnish the music, one for the dancing and one
to give choice selections in between the figures. We will carry with
us to the snow and ice of the Rocky Mountains many, many delightful
memories of New Orleans, where the French element gives a charm to
everything. The Mardi-Gras parades, in which the regiment has each
year taken such a prominent part--the courtly Rex balls--the balls of
Comus--the delightful Creole balls in Grunewald Hall--the stately and
exclusive balls of the Washington Artillery in their own splendid
hall--the charming dancing receptions on the ironclad monitor
Canonicus, also the war ship Plymouth, where we were almost afraid to
step, things were so immaculate and shiny--and then our own pretty
army fetes at Jackson Barracks--regimental headquarters--each and all
will be remembered, ever with the keenest pleasure.
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