On the second winter of my abode at West Point, we had a series of regular subscription-balls, held in the large up-stairs room of the mess hall—the expense being defrayed by the officers and professors. On the first of these evenings the ground was hard frozen, but as yet no snow had fallen. The managers had notified that the ladies were all to ride to the ball. We were at a loss to conjecture where they would find conveyances for us—and we were not Cinderellas with convenient fairy-godmothers to transform pumpkins into coaches. An omnibus would have been a glorious acquisition—but at that time there was nothing on West Point in the shape of a wheeled carriage, with the exception of the doctor’s gig. This vehicle was pressed into the service—and having great duty to perform, it commenced its trips at a very early hour, actually calling for the first lady at five o’clock in the afternoon—and from that time it was continually coming and going like a short stage. At last, by way of expediting the business, they thought proper to adopt, as an auxiliary to the gig, another conveyance not of the most dignified character. But then nobody saw us but ourselves—and newspaper correspondents had not yet begun to come up to West Point to forage among us in quest of food for their columns. My sister-in-law and myself had not quite finished dressing, when we heard my brother down stairs calling to our man to know why he had thrown open the large gate?—“To let in the cart, sir, to take the ladies to the ball”—was Richard’s reply. And, true enough, we found at the door a real _bonâ fide_ open cart, having its flooring covered with straw. In it were some rather inelegant chairs, upon which my sister and I seated ourselves, like a couple of market-women. My brother having assisted us in, seemed to think it unofficer-like conduct to ride in a cart, and therefore, preferred walking—which, however, was no great fatigue, the distance being only a few furlongs from the house in which we then lived to the mess hall. The driver perched himself on the edge of the front board—and after a few steps of the horse, each accompanied by one jolt and two creaks, we were safely transported to the ball. Fortunately, before the next _soirée de danse_ the ground was covered with a deep snow; and the sleighing was excellent during the remainder of the winter. As sleighs were singularly plenty on West Point, and as a sleigh has the faculty of holding ladies _ad libitum_, the company was conveyed very expeditiously to the subsequent balls. This mode of transportation was found so convenient, that at the close of the season, (which was not till late in March,) though the snow had all disappeared and the ground was clear, the sleighs were still kept in requisition; and we went to the last ball sleighing upon nothing.