at army of union veterans who are beyond the
reach of pain and the need of pensions.

My own wound gave little annoyance except when the surgeon ran an iron
called a probe into it, which attempt met with so vigorous a protest
from his patient that he desisted and that form of treatment stopped
right there, so far as one cavalryman was concerned. The wound was well
bandaged and plentiful applications of cold water kept out the
inflammation.

Many of the officers and men came in to express their sympathy. Some of
them entertained me with the usual mock congratulations on having won a
"leave" and affected to regard me as a lucky fellow while they were the
real objects of sympathy.

But the circumstances were such as to repress mirth or anything of that
semblance. The regiment was in mourning for its bravest and best. The
Sixth, having been the first regiment to get into the fight, had
suffered more severely than any other. The losses had been grievous, and
it seemed hard that so many bright lights of our little family should be
so suddenly extinguished.

At daylight I was still wide awake but, even amidst such scenes as I
have described, fatigue finally overcame me and I sank into dreamland
only to be startled, at first, by the fancied notes of the bugle
sounding "to horse" or the shouts of horsemen engaged in the fray. At
last, however, "tired nature's sweet restorer" came to my relief and I
fell into a dreamless sleep that lasted for several hours.

When I awoke it was with a delightful sense of mind and body rested and
restored. The wounded foot had ceased its pain. A gentle hand was
bathing my face with cold water from the well, while another was
straightening out the tangled locks which, to tell the truth, were
somewhat unkempt and overgrown from enforced neglect. Two ladies full of
sympathy for the youthful soldier were thus kindly ministering to his
comfort. As soon as fully awake to his surroundings, he opened his eyes
and turned them with what was meant for a look of gratitude upon the
fair friends who seemed like visiting angels in that place of misery and
death.

It was an incongruous picture that presented itself--a strange blending
of the grewsome sights of war with the beautiful environments of peace.
The wonted tranquility of this rural household had been rudely disturbed
by the sudden clangor of arms. A terrible storm of battle--the more
terrible because unforeseen--had broken in upon the quietude of