re."

Now, fair and gentle reader, this was the poetry, and you see for
yourself that there was no "shenanigan" in that letter; and if a fellow
"went back" on that sort of a letter, he would strike his "mammy."
And then the letter wound up with "May God shield and protect you,
and prepare you for whatever is in store for you, is the sincere prayer
of Jennie." You may be sure that I felt good and happy, indeed.

MY FRIENDS

Reader mine, in writing these rapid and imperfect recollections, I find
that should I attempt to write up all the details that I would not only
weary you, but that these memoirs would soon become monotonous and
uninteresting. I have written only of what I saw. Many little acts of
kindness shown me by ladies and old citizens, I have omitted. I remember
going to an old citizen's house, and he and the old lady were making
clay pipes. I recollect how they would mold the pipes and put them
in a red-hot stove to burn hard. Their kindness to me will never be
forgotten. The first time that I went there they seemed very glad to see
me, and told me that I looked exactly like their son who was in the army.
I asked them what regiment he belonged to. After a moment's silence the
old lady, her voice trembling as she spoke, said the Fourteenth Georgia,
and then she began to cry. Then the old man said, "Yes, we have a son
in the army. He went to Virginia the first year of the war, and we have
never heard of him since. These wars are terrible, sir. The last time
that we heard of him, he went with Stonewall Jackson away up in the
mountains of West Virginia, toward Romney, and I did hear that while
standing picket at a little place called Hampshire Crossing, on a little
stream called St. John's Run, he and eleven others froze to death.
We have never heard of him since." He got up and began walking up and
down the room, his hands crossed behind his back. I buckled on my
knapsack to go back to camp, and I shook hands with the two good old
people, and they told me good-bye, and both said, "God bless you, God
bless you." I said the same to them, and said, "I pray God to reward you,
and bring your son safe home again." When I got back to camp I found
cannon and caissons moving, and I knew and felt that General Hood was
going to strike the enemy again. Preparations were going on, but
everything seemed to be out of order and system. Men were cursing,
and seemed to be dissatisfied and unhappy, but the army