79
      In Fortress Monroe.     Officers after �a
		Champagne Spree.�
In blind-room, dozing and scribbling.   Aiken
in.   Saw Whittemore below, newly arrived from
the camp.   A sudden and violent rain-storm
prevent Hall and myself from going thither.   In
the evening, Steiner who has lodgings within the
fort comes for me with a message from Winchester,
requesting my presence at his room, Casemate No
7.       So I don india-rubber overcoat and am piloted
through the rain and puddles to the locality in
question, where Winchester gives me the heartiest of
receptions.  As the casemate is a spacious room with 
a cheery fire burning in a grate in one end of it
I have made a pleasant exchange from my Hygeia 
disaccommodation.    Winchester has a brother offi-
cer with him, a Capt. Richardson, an Englishman.
We are presently summoned to whiskey and talk
in another casemate.    Returning, we are conversing
and smoking by the fire when the door of com-
munication with the adjoining casement opens to ad-
mit a festive procession of half a dozen young
fellows, officers, headed by one playing the Rogue�s
March on a fiddle, to which really pretty tune they
promenaded and danced round the table, with
infinite hilarity.   They had been indulging in a
�champagne spree.�   They vented dramatic mor-
ceaux with any amount of perversion and jocular
absurdity, always to the accompaniment of the
violin which was excellently played.   Amid all