Our visitorial pilgrimage then commenced. We first visited Miss Nightingale’s dietary kitchen, in which I immediately recognised the whole of the little _camp batterie de cuisine_ which my friend Comte told me that the Duke of Cambridge had presented to the hospital. Justice was indeed done to it, for every separate article of which it was composed was in use. Miss Nightingale had a civilian cook as well as an assistant. Everything appeared in as good order as could be expected, considering what there was to be done. I noticed the very bad quality of the charcoal, which smoked terribly, and was nothing but dust. Of course, this interfered materially with the expedition of the cooking, which is a subject of vital importance in an hospital, where punctuality is as essential as quality. Addressing the Doctor, I said, “Suppose you have fifty or a hundred patients under your direction--according to the disease you vary the diet, and according to the state of the patient you vary the hour of his meal.” “Of course we do.” “Then, this defect, simple as it may appear, should be reported and immediately remedied.” “The only excuse I can find for the rations and diets not being ready at the time required is entirely owing to the bad quality of the charcoal, which, as regards time, would deceive the best of cooks, and is quite sufficient to upset the best of culinary arrangements. However, I will take note of the various things which strike me as being out of order or bad, and this will give me a good chance of effecting an immediate improvement.” “You are perfectly right,” said Miss Nightingale. “I assure you that Dumont, my cook, is always complaining of the charcoal, which, as you see, is so full of dust that it will not burn; and some days he cannot manage to cook at all with it.” “Well, I will endeavour to remedy this great evil.” “Doctor,” said Miss Nightingale, “you had better tell Monsieur Soyer to whom he is to apply in this matter.” “Oh, Mr. Milton or Mr. Tucker will be able to give him the necessary information. We will now visit another.” About half-way down the long corridor, we found another extra diet kitchen, managed by soldiers; but it was far from being in good order--on the contrary, all was in the greatest confusion. The kitchen was full of smoke, and everything was boiling too fast. In consequence of the bad quality of the charcoal, a wall of bricks had been raised round each stove, and thus wood and charcoal were used _ad libitum_, burning the rice-pudding, and over-doing everything. In fact, everything had the disagreeable flavour of being burnt. As I did not wish to alarm them, I merely remarked that the fire was too fierce; and, on the following morning, I took one of my men with me to teach them how to manage better.