new band, all Cincinnati musicians, and they are truly welcome to the
camp.

Boys want to hear from home as often as possible. It will be well for
the girls to bear this in mind, and write often. Letters of love, we
may say, alphabetically speaking, are X T Z to those who get them.

ANECDOTE OF THE 63d OHIO AND COLONEL SPRAGUE.

The 63d boys love Colonel Sprague; they are not exactly afraid of him,
but many a one would rather be whipped, any day, than take a reprimand
from him. For instance: several nights ago one of the men, instigated
by the love of good eating, and not having the fear of God before his
eyes, attempted to pinch, as they say in the 63d, a can of fruit at
the sutler's tent. But, unluckily for him, the sutler saw him, sprang
out of bed, caught him by the collar and took him prisoner. As soon as
the sutler got hold of him he began to address him in language more
forcible than polite. "You d--d thief, I'll pay you for this; I'll
take you before the Colonel, and, if I had my boots on, I'd take it
out in kicking you."

"I'll tell you what," said the soldier, "I'll wait here till you put
your boots on, and you may kick me as much as you please, if you won't
take me before the Colonel."

The following exquisite poem was handed me by Colonel Durbin Ward, of
the 17th Ohio. I wish I knew the author. They are beautiful lines:

THE SOLDIER'S DREAM OF HOME.

You have put the children to bed, Alice--
Maud and Willie and Rose;
They have lisped their sweet "Our Father,"
And sunk to their night's repose.

Did they think of me, dear Alice?
Did they think of me, and say,
"God bless him, and God bless him,
Dear father, far away?"

O, my very heart grows sick, Alice,
I long so to behold
Rose, with her pure white forehead,
And Maud, with her curls of gold;
And Willie, so gay and sprightly,
So merry and full of glee--,
O, my heart yearns to enfold ye,
My smiling group of three.

I can bear the noisy day, Alice--
The camp life, gay and wild,
Shuts from my yearning bosom
The thoughts of wife and child;
But when the night is round me,
And under its starry beams
I gather my cloak about me,
And dream such long, sad dreams!

I think of a pale young wife, Alice,
Who looked up in my face
When the drum beat at evening
And called me to my place.
I think of three swe