to have my well dug."

I inquired if she had ever got anything for the damage.

"Not much. I jest sold the bones of the dead horses. I couldn't do it
till this year, for the meat hadn't rotted off yit. I got fifty cents a
hundred. There was seven hundred and fifty pounds. You can reckon up
what they come to. That's all I got."

Not much, indeed!

This poor woman's entire interest in the great battle was, I found,
centred in her own losses. That the country lost or gained she did not
know nor care, never having once thought of that side of the question.

The town is full of similar reminiscences; and it is a subject which
everybody except the "Copperheads" likes to talk with you about. There
were heroic women here, too. On the evening of Wednesday, as our forces
were retreating, an exhausted Union soldier came to Mr. Culp's house,
near Culp's Hill, and said, as he sank down,--

"If I can't have a drink of water, I must die."

Mrs. Culp, who had taken refuge in the cellar,--for the house was now
between the two fires,--said,--

"I will go to the spring and get you some water."

It was then nearly dark. As she was returning with the water, a bullet
whizzed past her. It was fired by a sharpshooter on our own side, who
had mistaken her for one of the advancing Rebels. Greatly frightened,
she hurried home, bringing the water safely. One poor soldier was made
eternally grateful by this courageous womanly deed. A few days later the
sharpshooter came to the house and learned that it was a ministering
angel in the guise of a woman he had shot at. Great, also, must have
been his gratitude for the veil of darkness which caused him to miss his
aim.

Shortly after the battle, sad tales were told of the cruel inhospitality
shown to the wounded Union troops by the people of Gettysburg. Many of
these stories were doubtless true; but they were true only of the more
brutal of the Rebel sympathizers. The Union men threw open their hearts
and their houses to the wounded.

One day I met a soldier on Cemetery Hill, who was in the battle, and
who, being at Harrisburg for a few days, had taken advantage of an
excursion-train to come over and revisit the scene of that terrible
experience. Getting into conversation, we walked down the hill together.
As we were approaching a double house with high wooden steps, he pointed
out the farther one, and said,--

"Saturday morning, after the fight, I got a piece of bread at that
house. A ma