plaint. "Oh!" said she, "I'll fix you all right in a week or two, only
keep up good courage." And to work she went, at once; made me a nice bed
on the floor, and fixed me a dose of herb tea in a very short time. I felt
very comfortable, I can assure you, that afternoon, as I lay there on the
floor, watching that good old Samaritan in her humble home; my heart was
filled with gratitude, and I felt safe in her hands.

There was only one room in the house, and that very poorly furnished;
still, every thing looked neat and home-like. There were two other
soldiers there at the same time; one from the 17th Michigan, with his leg
off, the other from Massachusetts, with his arm amputated at the
shoulder-joint. She took care of us all, and often assisted at the
hospital. I was with her two weeks, and then reported in person to the
surgeon in charge. He gave me leave to go back another week. At the end of
that time I was fit for duty. But I must not leave this good old mother
without saying a few more words. She was, in deed and in truth, a good
Samaritan to us all; and there are hundreds who can testify to the same
truth; hundreds who will remember her with heart-felt gratitude as long as
they live.

The soldier from Massachusetts died in a few days; the other was able to
go home in four weeks.

Some time after this, I received orders to report at Camp Convalescent,
Alexandria. I stayed there two weeks and then started off with a squad for
the front. We arrived at Aquia Creek, on Saturday, October 13. We were put
into camp there and told to wait until after the battle before proceeding
further. To wait there within sound of that terrible artillery-fire at
Fredericksburg, did not suit me. I longed to be with my comrades and share
their danger.

With these feelings I went to the Provost Marshal and stated my case. He
gave me a pass to report to General Fry, at Falmouth, but instead of
reporting to him, I found my regiment over in the city and took my place
in the ranks. The boys were glad to see me, but said I was a fool for
coming into that slaughter-yard, as they called it. It was my duty, and I
was willing to take my chances with the rest.

We went on picket Sunday night, but were ordered to fall back across the
river about four in the morning, and at day-light we were in our old
quarters, there to do picket duty on the Rappahannock, as the boys said.
This was the most discouraging place that I was in during my stay in the