my hands pleasantly, and I tried to
be faithful in my ministrations.

I believe that most of the soldiers in this ward were from Iowa and
Indiana.

One I remember particularly, a captain of cavalry, who was shot
through the throat and had to receive nourishment by means of a rubber
tube inserted for the purpose. A young man in a blue and yellow
uniform--an aide or orderly--remained at his side day and night until
he died. His eyes spoke to me eloquently of his gratitude, and once he
wrote on a scrap of paper, "God bless you," and handed it to me. He
lived about five days.

The mortality was very considerable in this ward. I grew to feel a
deep interest in the poor fellows, and treasured last words or little
mementoes as faithfully for their distant loved ones as I had always
done for Confederates.

Among the personal belongings taken from me by raiders at Macon,
Georgia, was a large chest, full of articles of this kind, which I
intended to return to the friends of the owners whenever the
opportunity offered.

In another ward were several renegade Kentuckians, who constantly
excited my ire by noting and ridiculing deficiencies, calling my own
dear boys "Old Jeff's ragamuffins," etc. One day Dr. Gore happened to
be visiting this ward when these men began their usual teasing.
Something caused me to eulogize Dr. Gore and all the Kentuckians who
had sacrificed so much for "The Cause." One of these fellows then
said, "Well, I'm a Kentuckian too, what have you got to say about me?"
I replied, "I think you hold about the same relation to the true sons
of Kentucky that Judas Iscariot bore to the beloved disciple who lay
upon the bosom of our Saviour." Then walked out of the ward.

It was rather a spiteful repartee, I must confess, but was provoked by
many ill-natured remarks previously made by this renegade, and had the
good effect of putting an end to them.

We were comparatively safe once more,--for how long no one knew. I now
became very anxious about the men in the trenches at Atlanta who were
lying day after day, always under fire. Suffering from insufficient
food, exposed to the scorching sun or equally pitiless rain, sometimes
actually knee-deep in water for days. The bombardment was heavy and
incessant, ceasing only for a while at sunset, when carts were hastily
loaded with musty meat and poor corn-bread, driven out to the
trenches, and the rations dumped there. Many of my friends were lying
in these trenches,