oud talking and cheering in front of the tent, which called me out.
There I found that the recruits had arrived from Camp Randall, thirty
stout and hearty looking men with mouths wide open, gazing at their "to
be" comrades. Anyone could see that they were raw recruits, but nearly
everyone had friends to receive and congratulate, but I knew no one, but
was cheered by the handing of a package to me by a stranger. It was from
home. Hardly waiting to go to my tent, I tore it open, found a pair of
socks knit by the hands of my mother; she who so often in times gone by
has contributed to my comfort and happiness, had again remembered me in
her labors, while suffering severely under the ruthless hand of disease.
Oh how precious she is to me, and how fondly I will cherish her humble
gift. Also a number of the _Phrenological Journals_ bound in with the
calico strip as of old--my favorite paper, loaded with valuable reading
matter; also a gift from Brother John, a diary such as I need. The
whole so impressed me with the scenes of home and its endearments that I
could hardly refrain the tears. When the mail arrived I received four
letters--nearly enough for one day.

Huntsville, Tuesday, March 8. Rainy. Appearance of bad weather. Henry
Robson taken to smallpox camp, having been sick in camp for nearly a
week with varioloid. On duty, hauling wood for the cooks both morning
and afternoon. Recruits were drilled by Sergeant Sweet. Reports of
several court-martials read at dress parade, of artillery men. ---- of
our Battery, ten days hard labor after twenty in confinement in guard
house. News reached us of a terrible calamity having befallen the
homeward bound veterans of the 4th Minnesota. Cars running off the
track, killing eighteen soldiers, five or six wounded. Having braved
many battles, thus to die on the way to see those whom they loved.

[Sidenote: 1864 Dance in Camp]

Huntsville, Wednesday, March 9. Hitched up four guns and caisson and
went out for battery drill under Lieutenant Hood. Horses balky and
unused to work, had to unhitch one and returned with but little drill. I
rode on lead, third caisson. Standing gun drill and parade in the
afternoon. Rainy evening. Privates had a grand ball to-night in Alabama
Hotel to try to excel the shoulder-strap fizzle of Feb. 22. I understand
they had a grand time. No officers allowed, no one with shoulder straps
on. Forty ladies in all. Lieutenant Clark little better with the
smallp