able. It was a
pleasant change from the dull routine of camp duty, and my men were in
exuberant spirits, excessively merry and gay. While there, a
good-looking non-commissioned officer of the battery came up to me, and,
extending his hand, said: "How do you do, General?" I shook him by the
hand, but could not for the life of me recollect that I had ever seen
him before. Seeing that I failed to recognize him, he said: "My name is
Concklin. I knew you at Sandusky, and used to know your wife well."
Still I could not remember him. "You knew General Patterson?" he asked.
"Yes." "Mary Patterson?" "Yes; I shall never forget her." "Do you
recollect a stroll down to the bay shore one moonlight night?" Of course
I remembered it. This was John Concklin, Mary's cousin. I remembered
very well how he devoted himself to one I felt considerable interest in,
while his cousin Mary and I talked in a jocular way about the cost of
housekeeping, both agreeing that it would require but a very small sum
to set up such an establishment as our modest ambition demanded. I was
heartily glad to meet the young man. He looks very different from the
smooth-faced boy of ten years ago. I was slightly jealous of him then,
and I do not know but I might have reason to be now, for he is a fine,
manly fellow.

At Scrougeville--how softly the name ripples on the ear!--we were
entertained magnificently. Above us was the azure canopy; around us a
dense forest of cedars, and in a shady nook, a sylvan retreat as it
were, a barrel of choice beer. The mocking-birds caroled from the
evergreen boughs. The plaintive melody of the dove came to us from over
the hills, and pies at a quarter each poured in upon us in profusion;
and such pies! When night threw over us her shadowy mantle, and the
crescent moon blessed us with her mellow light, the notes of the
whip-poor-will mingling with the bark of watch-dogs and the barbaric
melody of the Ethiopian, floated out on the genial air, and, as
stretched on the green sward, we smoked our pipes and drank our beer,
thoughts of fairy land possessed us, and we looked wonderingly around
and inquired, is Scrougeville a reality or a vision? I fear we shall
never see the like of Scrougeville again.

On the morning of the 26th instant I received a telegram ordering our
immediate return, and we reached Murfreesboro at two o'clock P. M. same
day.

I had not forgotten the terrible scolding received from the General just
before starting