If anyone in the army loved good living, it was Major Blossom; and if anyone hated hard living, that man was Major George Blossom.

He hated Mexicans, too, and mosquitoes, and scorpions, and snakes, and sand-flies, and all enemies to his rest and comfort; and the manner in which he swore at these natural foes would have entitled him to a high commission in the celebrated army of Flanders.
Major Blossom was a quarter-master in more senses than one, as he occupied more quarters than any two men in the army, not excepting the general-in-chief; and when many a braver man and better officer was cut down to "twenty-five pounds of baggage", the private lumber of Major Blossom, including himself, occupied a string of wagons like a siege-train.
As I entered the tent he was seated at supper.

The viands before him were in striking contrast to the food upon which the army was then subsisting.

There was no gravel gritting between the major's teeth as he masticated mess-pork or mouldy biscuit.

He found no _debris_ of sand and small rocks at the bottom of his coffee-cup.