the officers on leave from Petersburg; the lines drawn
close to the city furnished many an acquisition, who would willingly do
ten miles in and out, on horseback through the slush and snow, for one
_deux temps_ with "somebody in particular."

And many a brave fellow had ridden direct from the ball-room into the
fight. I can well recall poor H. now, as he looked when last I saw him
in life. Ruddy and joyous, with his handsome face one glow of pleasure,
he vaulted gaily to his saddle under the bright moon at midnight.
Curbing his restive horse, and waving a kiss to the bright faces
pressed against the frosty pane, his clear _au revoir!_ echoed through
the silent street, and he was off.

Next morning a country cart brought his lifeless body down Main street,
with the small blue mark of a bullet in the middle of the smooth,
clear, boyish brow. Never leaving his saddle, he had ridden into a
picket fight, and a chance shot had cut short the life of so much
promise.

But it is not meant that these parties entailed any waste of those
supplies, vital alike to citizen and soldier. They were known as
"Starvations;" and all refreshments whatever were forbidden, save what
could be drawn from the huge pitcher of "Jeems' River" water,
surrounded with its varied and many-shaped drinking utensils. Many of
these, even in the houses of the best provided, were of common blown
glass, with a greenish tinge that suggested a most bilious condition of
the blower. The music was furnished by some of the ancient negro
minstrels--so dear to the juvenile southern heart in days gone by; or
more frequently by the delicate fingers of some petted and favored
belle. And never, amid the blare of the best trained bands, the popping
of champagne, and the clatter of forks over _pate de foies gras_, was
there more genuine enjoyment and more courtly chivalry to the _beau
sexe_, than at these primitive soirees.

The "Starvations" were not the only amusements. Amateur theatricals and
tableaux again became the rage in midwinter; and talent of no
contemptible grade was displayed on many an impromptu stage. And that
especial pet horror of supersensitive godliness--the godless German
cotillion--even forced itself into the gayeties of the winter. Great
was the wrath of the elect against all amusements of the kind--but
chiefest among outrages was this graceless German. But despite the
denunciations, the ridicule, and even the active intervention of one or
two min