ime. Sometimes the officers who were
patients would take classes too, which was far less embarrassing than
having them ask permission to take the part of scholars, as they
sometimes did. Before we had Sunday school, the men in my own wards
would ask to have psalms and passages selected for them to learn on
Sundays. On Monday mornings each one would have his little book ready to
recite his lesson.

For a week before Christmas, active preparations were made for its
celebration. The men were allowed to go into the woods across the river,
and bring boughs of hemlock, pine, and laurel, and of holly laden with
bright berries. Every evening was occupied in twisting and tying
evergreen in the chapel. Many a reminiscence of home was told, as we sat
in clusters, wreathing garlands of rejoicing so strangely contrasting
with the sights and sounds of life and death around us. Late on
Christmas eve, some of the men from Section V., a tent department, came
to ask as a great favor that I would assist them in decorating the tent
of Miss H----. They said that she had been "fixing up" the wards all
day, and they wanted to have her own tent adorned as a surprise when she
came down in the morning.

On going over to the tent, I found that they had already cut out of red
and blue flannel the letters for "A Merry Christmas to Miss H----."
These were soon sewed upon white cotton, which, being surrounded with
evergreen, was hung in the most conspicuous place. Then there were
crosses, stars, and various other designs to go up, among them a Goddess
of Liberty of remarkable proportions, considered the masterpiece of the
whole. There were only a few men present, not more than a dozen; each
had been seriously wounded, and nearly every one had lost either a leg
or an arm. It was a weird sight as they eagerly worked, by the light of
dimly burning candles, on this cold, full-mooned midnight, cheerfully
telling where they were a year ago, lying in rifle-pits or on picket
duty, and wishing themselves only able to be there again.

Christmas morning came at last. As the sun shone brightly on the frosty
windows, each one showed its wreath, and the wards were gayly festooned.
In some of the larger ones there were appropriate mottoes made of
evergreen letters; as, "Welcome home,"--"He bringeth the prisoners out
of captivity." Friends in Philadelphia had requested to provide the
dinner, which was most lavish and luxurious. The tables were loaded with
turkeys