"A certain captain writing to a fair and undoubtedly dear friend, could not brook the idea of being limited to six lines, when he had so much to communicate; so resorting to the use of invisible ink, he comfortably filled the sheet with 'soft and winning words,' and then fearing lest his _inamorata_ would not discover the secret he added this postscript: "'P.S.--Now, my dear, read this over, and then bake it in the oven and read it again.' "This was too much. The rebels thinking if the letter would improve by baking it might be well to improve it at once, accordingly held it over the fire. This brought to light four closely written pages of the tenderest and most heart-rending sentiment." Ever after all letters sent out by the prisoners were carefully inspected and subjected to the "ordeal by fire," so that, to use the expressive language of an old soldier, "that game was played." Among Glazier's fellow-prisoners at this time was a certain Major Halsted. He was one of those social anomalies that are not infrequently met with in this country, a man of obscure origin, a member of a very humble calling, prior to entering the army, and yet possessing the personal appearance and manners of a man of distinction. He really belonged to that terribly maligned craft of whose followers it is popularly said, "It takes nine to make a man,"--he was a tailor. Upon this fact some of the little wits of the prison, forgetting that one of the bravest of Napoleon's generals, and one of the most intrepid of America's sons, had each followed the same occupation, were in the habit of jokingly asking him to repair their old and dilapidated clothes. When this jest was first indulged in, those who knew the undaunted spirit and somewhat irascible temper of the major, expected to hear him blaze out upon the perpetrator of the _mauvaise plaisantrie_, or possibly knock him down. To their surprise, however, he did neither. For a single moment a gleam of passionate wrath shot up in his eyes, but it was instantly suppressed, and he joined in the laugh against himself. Seeing, however, that the victim of the joke did not appear at all disturbed or hurt, other, better-natured fellows followed in the wake, and the jest of asking the major to patch a pair of breeches or mend a coat, became somewhat threadbare by repetition.