below which were little puddles of molasses.
Dined, alone, at Galpin�s. Loafing at the St.
Charles with Howell, Hayes, Ripley and others.
Ripley attached himself peculiarly to me, when
he was either sober or drunk, the other fellows
disliking him for his scarcely disguised Seces-
sion principles � or rather sentiments. He had
lived in New Orleans for some years before the
war, knew most people and had been attached,
I believe to the N. O. Picayune, the leading paper
of the city. A very able newspaper writer and
a likeable fellow, all his valuable qualities
were ruined by drunkenness. He would get so
deplorably inebriated as literally to tumble
in the gutters, presenting a most disgusting spec-
tacle. He lived as a �dead head� at the St.
Charles, where the landlord knew him. Every-
body expected that Ripley would kill himself
with brandy. Sometimes he�d stagger into the ro-
tunda and sit in a perfectly sodden condition,
stupefied in one of the chairs, being with difficulty
prevailed upon to go to his room. Once they
locked him in it, but he got out, through the
fanlight over the door, and was absent from
the hotel for a day or two, being brought home
crazy with delirium tremens. He had lost
a very good position on the Evening Post from this
habit, and through a friend�s interest, had got