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 wall amongst others, taken in Chili, in all his medals and decorations. These are many, for he is a Knight of the Iron Cross, an Officer of the Legion of Honour, has the Turkish War Medal of 1854-6, the Indian War Medal of 1857-8, with the clasp for Lucknow, the South African War Medal of 1879, the Medjidieh (3rd and 4th class), the Osmanieh (3rd and 4th class), the St. Sauveur of Greece. He is a Chevalier of the Order of Franz Josef of Austria—the Redeemer of Portugal—etc.

We looked through a book of literary and pictorial reminiscences of the Crimea. Many of the sketches, the majority by Colonel Colville, now Equerry to the Duke of Edinburgh, are highly humorous. The gallant colonel has certainly depicted the chroniclers of war's alarms under very trying circumstances, and Captain Swaeby of the 41st, who was killed at Inkerman, presents the landing of the famous war correspondent and the total annihilation of the rival pressmen of the Invalide Russe and the Soldaten Freund in a boldly dramatic way. Here is a photograph by Robertson. It shows Balaclava—"The Valley of Death." On the opposite page is a cartoon from Punch. A mother and her children are sitting with open ears and excited, tearful faces listening to Paterfamilias by the fireplace, reading a description of the cavalry fight of Balaclava from the Times, and flourishing a poker over his head. That account was written by Dr. Russell, and there is little reason to doubt that the word-picture penned by him inspired Lord Tennyson to write the "Charge of the Light Brigade."

We turn over the pages of the album. This slip of blue paper is a delivery note from the Quartermaster-General for a box from England, which Dr. Russell got up with great difficulty at Balaclava. It created great joy, as the label on it of "Medical Comforts" suggested to the hungry warriors something good from the old country. They gathered round in anxious expectation. Alas! the box contained wooden legs, splints, and such useful supports in life! The letters from generals commanding are numerous—a passport to the interior after the war, a portrait of Catharine of Russia, and one of the Czar Nicholas, torn down from a wall at Buljanak, and many other mementoes. The reading of a letter from the famous French chef Soyer reminds Dr. Russell of an anecdote. Soyer was arrested one night in the Crimea as a spy.

"Who and what are you?" asked the officer into whose presence he was brought.

"I am an officer," was the reply.

"What rank?"

"I am chief of a battery."

"Of what battery?"

"Of the Batterie de Cuisine de l'Armée Anglaise, monsieur!" was the witty answer.

"M. Soyer," continued Dr. Russell, "was very eccentric, but very original—as a cook supreme. He erected a handsome monument to his wife's memory at Kensal Green, and was on the look-out for an inscription. At last he made known his wish to Lord Palmerston.

Well,' said the great statesman, 'I don't