e alone long, and when an hour had passed without his return I
grew anxious; and when two hours, and the shelling had grown terrific, I
momentarily expected to see his mangled body. All sorts of horrors fill
the mind now, and I am so desolate here; not a friend. When he came he
said that passing a cave where there were no others near, he heard groans,
and found a shell had struck above and caused the cave to fall in on the
man within. He could not extricate him alone, and had to get help and dig
him out. He was badly hurt, but not mortally. I felt fairly sick from the
suspense.

Yesterday morning a note was brought H. from a bachelor uncle out in the
trenches, saying he had been taken ill with fever, and could we receive
him if he came? H. sent to tell him to come, and I arranged one of the
parlors as a dressing-room for him, and laid a pallet that he could move
back and forth to the cellar. He did not arrive, however. It is our custom
in the evening to sit in the front room a little while in the dark, with
matches and candles held ready in hand, and watch the shells, whose course
at night is shown by the fuse. H. was at the window and suddenly sprang
up, crying, "Run!"--"Where?"--"_Back_!"

I started through the back room, H. after me. I was just within the door
when the crash came that threw me to the floor. It was the most appalling
sensation I'd ever known. Worse than an earthquake, which I've also
experienced. Shaken and deafened I picked myself up; H. had struck a light
to find me. I lighted mine, and the smoke guided us to the parlor I had
fixed for Uncle J. The candles were useless in the dense smoke, and it was
many minutes before we could see. Then we found the entire side of the
room torn out. The soldiers who had rushed in said, "This is an
eighty-pound Parrott." It had entered through the front and burst on the
pallet-bed, which was in tatters; the toilet service and everything else
in the room was smashed. The soldiers assisted H. to board up the break
with planks to keep out prowlers, and we went to bed in the cellar as
usual. This morning the yard is partially plowed by two shells that fell
there in the night. I think this house, so large and prominent from the
river, is perhaps mistaken for headquarters and specially shelled. As we
descend at night to the lower regions, I think of the evening hymn that
grandmother taught me when a child:

"Lord, keep us safe this night,
Secure from all our fears