I wish they had more time to visit the remnants of battalions defending the hills--out in cold and rain all night, out in the blazing sun all day, with nothing to look forward to but a trek-ox or a horse stewed in unseasoned water, two biscuits or some sour bread, and a tasteless tea, generally half cold.

No beer, no tobacco, no variety at all.

To me, one of the highest triumphs of the siege is the achievement of MacNalty, a young lieutenant of the Army Service Corps.

For nights past he has been working in the station engine shed at an apparatus of his own invention for boiling down horses into soup.

After many experiments in process and flavouring, and many disappointments, he has secured an admirable essence of horse.