The picture represents a camp in the idle days between the great campaigns. The army has settled down to weeks of forced inaction, and the men make themselves as comfortable as the means at hand will allow. They have shown wonderful thrift and industry in housing themselves. The tent in the foreground shows this. Its builders have made a pen of logs neatly chinked with chunks and clay to keep out the wind. They have built a fireplace of clay and used an old plow on top of the chimney to assist the draft. The roof is made of pieces of shelter tents and ponchos and at the entrance has been laid a pavement of pork-barrel 안양오피 staves to keep mud from being carried into the sleeping apartment. The other tents in the distance show similar devices. The whole is as accurate a picture of a winter camp as the camera could make.

The veteran in the foreground is a man whose love of music is so strong as to be irrepressible. He has constructed a fiddle out of a cigar box and such other material as he could lay his hands on. It shows as much ingenuity as his tent. Probably the tail of the Colonel’s horse has suffered to furnish hair for the bow. The music made is far from that which could be drawn from a high-priced instrument, but he and his boy listener enjoy it a hundredfold more than the most cultivated listener ever did high-priced strains. And he plays the tune that always went most directly to the soldier’s heart, “Home, Sweet Home.”