he
cars--'no, not to Harrisburg'--through the main street, and turned away
from the town, still unconscious of officers' intentions. We privates
never know anything of plans or objects. We never know where we are
going till we get there, nor what we are to do till we do it, and then
we don't know what we are going to do next. I soon got used to this; and
although conjectures and prophecies fly through the ranks, of all kinds,
from shrewd to ridiculous, I very early learned it was sheer bother of
one's brains attempting to discover anything, and ceased to ask
questions or form theories--getting up when I heard 'Company I, fall
in,' without seeking to know whether it was for march, drill, picket
duty, or what not. Company officers seldom know more about the matter
than their men, and I speedily came to content myself with trying to
extract from past work and present position some general notion of the
'strategy' of our movements. Nor is this ignorance wholly unblissful, as
leaving always room for hope that the march is to be short or the coming
work pleasant. Well, in the present case, just out of the town we halted
in the Fair grounds; an ample field, a high tight face around it, a
large shed in the centre. We all stacked arms--most went to sleep. I
always took sleep when I could, because, in a regiment constantly on the
move as ours was, if you don't want it now, you will before long.

By and by, in came the left wing, weary but safe, and were greeted with
three tremendous cheers. I hastened to find Company I. The first
lieutenant had come on with us--the captain I had not yet seen. To him I
was now introduced.

Very soon the Fair ground was a camp; we on one side--the 8th N.Y.,
Colonel Varian, opposite. Tents were up, fires blazing, and cooking and
eating going on. As I had not started with the regiment, I had no tent,
and none could be had here, so my camping consisted of piling my traps
in a heap. But I needed none, and indeed, throughout the whole time was
under one but twice. Tents are all very well, when you are quietly
encamped for any length, of time; but when, as with us, you are on the
more continually, I consider them a humbug and nuisance. You must carry
half a one all day, and at night join it with your comrade's half. The
common shelter tent, which is the only one that can be so carried, is a
poor protection against heavy rain, for the water can beat in at the
sides and form pools beneath you; against mid