In the formative period of enlistment, when we raised companies and enlisted men no greener than ourselves, I used to wonder at that requirement of the army regulations which related to the teeth of the recruit. It was explained that a good set of teeth were necessary for a recruit on account of the necessity of biting the end of the paper cartridge, but for this it appeared that only front teeth were required, though the regulations included the whole set, and grinders could not be brought into play in the operation of biting the cartridges. But when we passed out of the region of the recruiting barracks, and the early stage of soft bread, and when that wonderful creation of the culinary art known as the army cracker appeared, this mystery of the requirement of the teeth was fully cleared up. It then appeared that the men were selected not for courage or endurance, which could not be examined into, but for good grinders, and the wonder now is that men enough to put down the rebellion could have been found with teeth equal to the task of putting down the army hardtack. Did any comrade ever study this article in a geological way? It was a solid, there was no doubt about that. It was not a stratified rock. It was homogeneous and amorphous, excepting when wormy. It did not resemble anything in the vegetable, animal or mineral kingdom, excepting brick. It was inflexible, inelastic, infrangible, and indigestible, suited neither to the stomach nor bowels, and was adapted, except in shape, better as armor. Indeed, instances have been reported, though perhaps not in the official records, where the haversack of a soldier stopped the bullet of the enemy, and these perhaps are the only cases where it was found that the hardtack saved life. It is well known that the army mule would not eat it, and it is another proof of the high intelligence of that noble animal, without whose constant aid the rebellion never would have been put down. I am aware that in making this statement, in which I seem to attribute the suppression of the rebellion to the army mule, I am infringing the claims subsequently made by certain officers who have been talking ever since the war, notably that famous quartermaster whose stories led his infant son to inquire earnestly, “Pa, did anybody help you put down the rebellion?” We all helped, in fact, but with the volunteers the first duty was to chew, or at least to reduce the ration to chewable condition. Soaking in water was tried, but that was too slow. The ration of one day needed the soaking of the day before. Do any of the companions remember seeing it spluttering in the grease of the frying pan?