f a Confederate newspaper. A commotion near the stairway! Fifty
or a hundred cluster around an officer with a clear strong voice, and
listen as he reads aloud the news, the editorials, and the selections.
The rebels are represented as continually gaining victories, but
singularly enough the northern armies are always drawing nearer!

Toward sunset many officers walk briskly half an hour to and fro the
length of the room for exercise.

Another roll-call by the mysterious heterogeneous if not
hermaphroditical Carolina sergeant!

Brooms again by the mess on duty. Again oral language-lessons by Cook
and Putnam. Then discussions or story-telling.

It is growing dark. A candle is lighted making darkness visible. We have
many skilful singers, who every evening "discourse most excellent
music." They sing _Just before the battle, mother; Do they miss me at
home? We shall meet, but we shall miss him_ (a song composed on the
death of one of my Worcester pupils by Hon. Charles Washburn); _Nearer,
My God, to thee_, etc. From the sweet strains of affection or devotion,
which suffuse the eyes as we begin to lie down for the night, the music
passes to the _Star-spangled Banner_, _Rally round the flag_, _John
Brown's body lies a'mouldering in the grave_, and the like. Often the
"concert" concludes with a comic Dutch song by Captain Cafferty, Co. D,
1st N. Y. Cav.

Sleep begins to seal many eyelids, when someone with a loud voice heard
through the whole room starts a series of sharp critical questions,
amusing or censorious, thus:

"Who don't skirmish?" This is answered loudly from another quarter.

"Slim Jim." The catechism proceeds, sometimes with two or three distinct
responses.

"Who cheats the graveyard?"

"Colonel Sprague."

"Who sketched Fort Darling?"

"Captain Tripp." (He was caught sketching long before, and was refused
exchange.)

"Who never washes?"

"Lieutenant Screw-my-upper-jaw-off." (His was an unpronounceable foreign
name.)

"Who knows everything?"

"General Duffie." (Duffie was a brave officer, of whom more anon.)

"Who don't know anything?"

"The fools that talk when they should be asleep." (The querists subside
at last.)

For warmth we lie in contact with each other "spoon-fashion," in groups
of three or more. I had bought a heavy woolen shawl for twenty
Confederate dollars, and under it were Captain Cook, Adjutant Clark, and
Lieutenant Wilder; I myself wearing my overcoat, and snuggling u