Dear Wife,-

I have not improved in strength any for the last week. I do not feel as well as I did before I came into this ward. I feel I have been going back. Since I came in here the food does not agree with me. We have most of the time for breakfast coffee without milk, sweetened with molasses, bread and hash. The hash is made of pieces of bread, the thickest of the soup that was left from dinner the day before, potatoes and what scraps of meat that can be picked up. For dinner we always have bread and soup and nothing else. For supper we have black tea sweetened with molasses, mush and molasses, or bread and dried apple sauce sweetened with molasses. You can see that the above food is not very good for a man who is recovering from a recent attack of fever. I would fare pretty hard if it were not for the money you sent me by Mr. Spoor. I bought some butter and we (I say we as I speak of George Beebe and Barker) keep it hid under the bed tied to a slat in the center so it cannot be seen by the warden. When we go to our supper we take the slice of bread that is at our plates (there is one slice laid at each plate), hide it under our coat and go back to our ward, toast it at the coal stove, spread it with the butter and make out quite a supper. I divide my butter with Beebe and Barker. Dr. Kennedy knows nothing about my food as the doctors have a table in another room, and if he did he could not help me any. But it is my food that is pulling me back. Beebe stands it better than I do and is holding his own and Barker the same. Alex H. is very much improved, send his people word. He sat up half a day yesterday. I have written to Mr. D. B. Cole about our business. I trust it all to him as I cannot attend to it and I have all confidence in him. I have had a letter from brother Will. He had a hard time getting back to his Company and advises me not to return until I am well and strong. He says he is almost sick and works hard every day. I hope he will not get down on his bed, as that would be worse than hard work. The Chaplain preached in one of the sick wards today. We had a good sermon from St. John 8:39.

Affectionately,

R. Cruikshank