pected that the young men had set up a job on him.

The regiment went on a foraging expedition yesterday, under Colonel
Keifer, and was some fifteen miles from Huntsville, in the direction of
the Tennessee river.

At one o'clock last night our picket was confronted by about one hundred
and fifty of the enemy's cavalry; but no shots were exchanged.

29. The rebel cavalry were riding in the mountains south of us last
night. A heavy mounted patrol of our troops was making the rounds at
midnight. There was some picket firing along toward morning; but nothing
occurred of importance.

Our forces are holding the great scope of country between Memphis and
Bridgeport, guarding bridges, railroads, and towns, frittering away the
strength of a great army, and wasting our men by permitting them to be
picked up in detail. In short, we put down from fifty to one hundred,
here and there, at points convenient to the enemy, as bait for them.
They take the bait frequently, and always when they run no risk of being
caught. The climate, and the insane effort to garrison the whole
country, consumes our troops, and we make no progress. May the good Lord
be with us, and deliver us from idleness and imbecility; and especially,
O! Lord, grant a little every-day sense--that very common sense which
plain people use in the management of their business affairs--to the
illustrious generals who have our armies in hand!

30. We have just concluded Colonel Turchin's case, and forwarded the
proceedings to General Buell.

General Ammen for many years belonged to a club, the members of which
were required either to sing a song or tell a story. He could not sing,
and, consequently, took to stories, and very few can tell one better.
The General is a member of the Episcopal Church, and, although a pious
man, emphasizes his language occasionally by an oath. When conducting
his brigade from the boat at Pittsburg Landing to position on the field,
he was compelled to pass through the immense crowd of skedaddlers who
had sought shelter under the bluffs from the storm of bullets. A
chaplain of one of the disorganized regiments was haranguing the mob in
what may be termed the whangdoodle style: "Rally, men; rally, and we may
yet be saved. O! rally! For God and your country's sake rally!
R-a-l-l-y! O-h! r-a-l-l-y around the flag of your c-o-w-n-try, my
c-o-wn-tryme-n!" "Shut up, you God damned old fool!" said Ammen, "or
I'll break your head! Get out of the way!