dreams. As it grew light, one after another rose and stretched himself,
rousing his seat companion. The train halted, a man shot a musket voice
in at the car door. It was loaded with the many syllables of 'Annapolis
Junction'. We were pouring out of the train shortly, to bivouac for
breakfast in the depot yard. So I began the life of a soldier, and how
it ended with me many have read in better books than this, but my story
of it is here and only here.

We went into camp there on the lonely flats of east Maryland for a day
or two, as we supposed, but really for quite two weeks. In the long
delay that followed, my way traversed the dead levels of routine. When
Southern sympathy had ceased to wreak its wrath upon the railroads about
Baltimore we pushed on to Washington. There I got letters from Uncle Eb
and Elizabeth Brower. The former I have now in my box of treasures--a
torn and faded remnant of that dark period.

DEAR SIR 'pen in hand to hat you know that we are all wel. also that we
was sorry you could not come horn. They took on terribul. Hope she wrote
a letter. Said she had not herd from you. also that somebody wrote to
her you was goin to be married. You had oughter write her a letter,
Bill. Looks to me so you hain't used her right. Shes a comm horn in
July. Sowed corn to day in the gardin. David is off byin catul. I hope
God will take care uv you, boy, so goodbye from yours truly

EBEN HOLDEN

I wrote immediately to Uncle Eb and told him of the letters I had sent
to Hope, and of my effort to see her.

Late in May, after Virginia had seceded, some thirty thousand of us were
sent over to the south side of the Potomac, where for weeks we tore the
flowery fields, lining the shore with long entrenchments.

Meantime I wrote three letters to Mr Greeley, and had the satisfaction
of seeing them in the Tribune. I took much interest in the camp drill,
and before we crossed the river I had been raised to the rank of first
lieutenant. Every day we were looking for the big army of Beauregard,
camping below Centreville, some thirty miles south.

Almost every night a nervous picket set the camp in uproar by
challenging a phantom of his imagination. We were all impatient as
hounds in leash. Since they would not come up and give us battle we
wanted to be off and have it out with them. And the people were tired of
delay. The cry of 'ste'boy!' was ringing all over the north. They wanted
to cut us loose and be through with d