must have only light work and nourishing food. After that I asked Mary to save everything for Burkman and make his recovery her especial care. The officers made fun of me, as they were rather incredulous, and thought a bit of shamming was being practised on me, but I knew better. They never failed to comment and smile when they saw the old defender of his country coming out of the kitchen-tent, his jaws working and his mouth full, while he carried all the food his hands would hold. To tell the truth, he kept up this prescription of nourishing food long after he had quite recovered.
It became the delight of my husband and the officers to chaff me about "Old Nutriment," for such was the sobriquet they gave him. At last, even Mary began to narrate how he swept everything before him with voracious, convalescing appetite. "Why, Miss Libbie," she said to me one day, "I thought I'd try him with a can of raw tomatoes, and set them before him, asking if he was fond of them. And he just drawled out, 'Always was,' and the tomatoes were gone in no time." His laconic answer passed into a proverb with us all, when invited to partake of anything we liked.
Such a tender heart as that old soldier had! I had noticed this first in Kentucky. My horse, which I prized above all that I have ever ridden, died during my temporary absence from home. I was too greatly grieved to ask many questions about him, but one day, some time afterwards, when we were riding through a charming bit of country, Burkman approached me from the place where he usually rode behind us, and said, "I'd like to tell Mrs. Custer there's whar poor Phil lies
