We lost fifteen or sixteen men a day. Some people said we pitched our camps too closely; but Sir George Brown's division covered nearly twice the space which would have been occupied by the encampment of a Roman legion consisting of nearly the same number of men, and yet there is no account in history of any of these camp epidemics in Gaul, or Thrace, or Pannonia, or in any of the standing camps of the Romans, and we must believe that the cholera and its cognate pests arise out of some combination of atmospherical and physical conditions which did not occur in former times. The conduct of many of the men, French and English, seemed characterized by a recklessness verging on insanity. They might be seen lying drunk in the kennels, or in the ditches by the road-sides, under the blazing rays of the sun, covered with swarms of flies. They might be seen in stupid sobriety gravely paring the rind off cucumbers of portentous dimensions, to the number of six or eight, and eating the deadly cylinders one after another, till there was no room for more--all the while sitting in groups in the fields, or on the flags by the shops in the open street, and looking as if they thought they were adopting highly sanitary measures for their health's sake; or frequently three or four of them would make a happy bargain with a Greek for a large basketful of apricots ("kill Johns"), scarlet pumpkins, water melons, wooden-bodied pears, green-gages, and plums, and then retire beneath the shade of a tree, where they divided and ate the luscious food till nought remained but a heap of peel, rind, and stones. They then diluted the mass of fruit with raki, or peach brandy, and struggled home or to sleep as best they could. One day I saw a Zouave and a huge Grenadier staggering up the street arm in arm, each being literally laden with enormous pumpkins and cucumbers, and in the intervals of song--for one was shouting out "Cheer, boys, cheer," in irregular spasms, and the other was chanting some love ditty of a very lachrymose character--they were feeding each other with cucumbers. One took a bit and handed it to his friend, who did the same, and thus they were continuing their amphiboean banquet till the Englishman slipped on a stone and went down into the mud, bringing his friend after him--pumpkins, cucumbers, and all. The Frenchman disengaged himself briskly; but the Grenadier at once composed himself to sleep, notwithstanding the entreaties of his companion. After dragging at him, head, legs, arms, and shoulders, the Zouave found he could make no impression on the inert mass of his friend, and regarding him in the most tragic manner possible, he clasped his hands, and exclaimed, "_Tu es là, donc, mon ami, mon cher Jeeon! Eh bien, je me coucherai avec toi_;" and calmly fixing a couple of cucumbers for his pillow, he lay down, and was soon snoring in the gutter in unison with his ally. The Turkish soldiers were equally careless of their diet and living.