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drink of it with relish. Another cask of beer, a
diabolical[ly] concoction of flaxseed and
quinine is under brew. The The rudely
cultivated tastes of my party give me
many opportunities for calling things
generic by names specific and giving them
all the zest that belongs to the well
relished title. Thus this atomisation
of rape, intended solely for their kidneys
attacks their palates under the
name of beer as if hops and malts
were steaming from the barrel.
Washing frictions and attention to comfort
are now my only serious remedies, the
potash is suspended and the ([Fr. Fern ?:])
iron used only in two bloody nosed cases.
My greatest difficulty is to force change
of position, airing of bedding, exercise; my
one insurmountable trouble – to bring about
changes of mental routine – moral impression
interest, excitement &c. My task is
a hard and thankless one, totally unappreciated
by my clients, and made
Thank Heaven, without care or regard
for their appreciation or non appreciation.
"Thomas come out of your cot! Growling
the poor fellow limps out. I give him my
eider down coverlid and sleeping bench
by the stove. "Mr. Ohlsen wash your
legs." Growling the legs are washed and
I loan them (the legs) a pair of clean
blanket drawers. So I mix up orders
and [bestowals] favors and so I pass my
day.

To day I expended my last manila
hawser for fuel, the temperatures remaining
at the extraordinary mean of -52°
during our hours of sleep. We are