It was at Cairo that I first met Captain Walke. As he was often at the chief ports where the army was protected by gunboats, I had the privilege of meeting him occasionally. Two days before the running of the blockade at Vicksburg, a little company of us went over from the Sanitary boat to bid Captain Walke godspeed and farewell. He had just completed the task of pouring two barrels of coal-oil over his gunboat, and whitewashing the lower deck, where the guns were to be loaded by the light of the whitewash. The oil was to prevent solid shot from adhering; striking a smooth oiled surface they would be more likely to fly off on a tangent, he explained by way of apology, as the gangway was reached, and the dresses of the ladies were besmeared with coal-oil. The sides of the _Carondelet_ were more than three feet thick, and consisted of alternate layers of wood and iron. In answer to the question,-- “Is not the eve of a battle a season of great anxiety?” he said,-- “No; the time of anxiety with me is when I am putting the ship in order. When I have done all that I can do, then I can serenely trust in God.” In the course of the conversation, he said that the most beautiful sight he had ever seen was the bursting of shells against the side of his ship, sending out volumes of fire, and scintillations of light like a cloud of glory. Our godspeeds and good wishes were earnest and heartfelt. We all felt that it might be a last farewell. He went through the fiery channel in safety, but I never saw his face again. His death occurred not a great while thereafter. A grand, true Christian gentleman, and a brave soldier, was Captain Walke. HOSPITAL ABUSES--PUTTING LOGWOOD IN THE COFFEE. There was a very large hospital at Madison, Ind., which was very much crowded in 1864-1865 with the sick and wounded. I established a special-diet kitchen there for the preparation of food for the very sick and the severely wounded, and placed one of my lady helpers in charge. She had scarcely assumed the supervision of the cookery till she began complaining of the quality of the food, especially of the coffee. As she put it: “There is nothing in this hospital fit for a well man to eat, much less these sick and wounded and dying men.”