le to rest a tired
head,--ice-water,--the last novel or periodical--all that can tempt your
fastidious taste, or help to while away the time, offered at your elbow,
is indeed pleasant; but wo to the fond imagination that pictures to
itself such luxuries on a United States Military Railroad. Be thankful
if in the crowd of tobacco-chewing soldiers you are able to get a seat,
and grumble not if the pine boards are hard and narrow. Lay in a good
stock of patience, for six miles an hour is probably the highest rate of
speed you will attain, and even then you shudder to see on either hand
strewn along the road, wrecks of cars and locomotives smashed in every
conceivable manner, telling of some fearful accident or some guerrilla
fight. These are discomforts hard to bear even when one is well and
strong; how much worse for a sick or wounded man. But thanks to the
United States Sanitary Commission and to those gentlemen belonging to
it, whose genius and benevolence originated, planned, and carried it
out, a hospital-train is now running on almost all the roads over which
it is necessary to transport sick or wounded men. These trains are now
under the control of Government, but the Sanitary Commission continues
to furnish a great part of the stores that are used in them. My first
experience of them was a sad one. A week before, the army had moved
forward and concentrated near Tunnel Hill. The dull, monotonous rumble
of army wagons as they rolled in long trains through the dusty street;
the measured tramp of thousands of bronzed and war-worn veterans; the
rattle and roar of the guns and caissons as they thundered on their
mission of death; the glittering sheen reflected from a thousand sabres,
had all passed by and left us in the desolated town. We lived, as it
were, with bated breath and eager ears, our nerves tensely strung with
anxiety and suspense waiting to catch the first sound of that coming
strife, where we knew so many of our bravest and best must fall. At last
came the news of that terrible fight at Buzzard's Roost or Rocky Face
Ridge, and the evening after, in came Dr. S. ---- straight from the
front, and said, 'The hospital-train is at the depot, wouldn't you like
to see it?' 'Of course we would,' chorused Mrs. Dr. S. ---- and myself,
and forthwith we rushed for our hats and cloaks, filled two large
baskets with soft crackers and oranges, and started off. A walk of a
mile brought us to the depot, and down in the further