er and system began to
pervade all departments. A baggage-master, with several temporary
assistants, found work for several days in disposing of the knapsacks,
haversacks, blankets, etc. As fast as they were claimed, they were
ticketed with the number of the ward and bed of the claimant, and
piled away to await his return to his regiment. Those unreclaimed and
known to have belonged to the dead were labelled as far as possible
with the name and date of death, company, and regiment, and stored
until friends should come or write for them.

The work of organization was not nearly complete, when Dr. McAllister
received orders to report with his hospital staff at Ringgold,
Georgia. The sick were to be removed elsewhere,--at any rate were not
to accompany us. Hospital stores would be supplied at Ringgold. The
doctor and his attendants awaited transportation, which seemed
difficult to obtain. Many bodies of soldiers crowded every
train,--passenger, freight, and even cattle cars.

Dr. McAllister decided to send his wife and myself by private
conveyance to Marion, Alabama, to remain there until we should receive
final directions. Two servants belonging to Mrs. McAllister
accompanied us. Our kind hostess had put up a basket of provisions.

I took a sad leave of the patients who had become so dear to me, and
one bright morning we drove rapidly out of Gainesville on our way to
Marion.

The ride was a perfect delight, over excellent roads, or through
aisles of the forest, where the healthful odor of the pines perfumed
the air, and myriads of birds made sweetest music. Stopping beside
some sparkling spring to lunch and dine, chatting gayly all day,
growing thoughtful and silent, as, borne upon the breeze of evening,
there came to us the whispering voices of memory, renewing the sorrow
of parting, awakening afresh anxious fears for the absent.

We slept at any house along the road where night overtook us, always
expecting and finding a welcome. In these homes, as everywhere else
over the South, sorrow and care had taken up their abode. Haggard,
weary-looking women, from whose hearts and homes joy had departed with
the dear ones who had gone forth to battle, plied us with eager
questions. We related to them all we knew of military movements. But
it was very little, and we could give them no tidings of their own.

The third day brought us to Marion, where, at the pleasant home of
Mrs. McAllister, we awaited further orders.

I h